Category Archives: books

Check before you hit that “Publish” button in the WordPress dashboard!

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The importance of checking prior to hitting the “publish” button on the WordPress dashboard was brought home to me this morning. I had (as is my usual practice) composed a poem entitled “Birds that Fly” using Microsoft Word. I then cut and pasted my poem into the edit field in “compose a new post” and, having selected tags and categories hit the “Publish” button. Up popped the dreaded “Mozilla crash reporter” indicating that something had gone awry. Having saved my poem in Word I wasn’t unduly concerned and restarted Firefox. Great! My draft had been automatically saved and all I had to do was hit the “publish” button for the second time. This I duly did only to find that “Birds that Fly” had (despite the earlier crash) in fact been published, leaving me with 2 posts with precisely the same content, including tags and categories! Had I taken a moment to check, prior to hitting the “Publish” button whether my earlier post had gone live, I could have avoided having to delete the extraneous copy thereby avoiding potential confusion among my readers. I will, in future double check when the internet crashes as to whether a post has, in fact gone live rather than merrily hitting the “Publish” button!

Kevin

Reprieve

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Is a poem a thing of art
Carefully crafted in every part?
Or does the poet roughly ssing
Of Cupid’s sting
And pages wet
That he may not forget
His unrequited love?

The heart
Finds expression in art.
Rough hewn or not
The poet has got
To find a voice.
He has no choice
Other than to obtain a brief
reprieve
From grief
In the words he doth weave.

The Play

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Sitting on a bench in the school playground
With children milling all around.
Yes, I remember it as though it was yesterday,
The actors came to perform a play.
Me weak
With a longing only half understood.
Unable to speak
And gawkishly shy,
I would
Die
Where I to address
The girl in the summer dress.

I recollect nought of the play
Yet thoughts of the actresses with me stay.
With age
‘Tis said one becomes a sage.
Today
Different actors perform upon the stage
And now my hair is grey
I pay
To see the players play.
As with the actors of yesterday
They too, will fade away.

Burning

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The fire
Rages
In stages.
At times it burns low
And I know
Sleep
Will creep
Into my room,,
Her sweet perfume
Rendering me
Free
Of desire.

Yet at other times the fire
Doth burn
Bright.
My thoughts turn
To delight,
Which slippery as eels
Itself reveals,
Then, a fleeting satisfaction seals.

Midnight steals
Away.
The hot coal
In my soul
By day
Burns low
Yet I know
The glow
Is always there
And will, once more, flare

Squire and Peasant

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I see a vanished land
Where the squire held command
Over the countryside,
Before the tide
Turned
And paternalism was spurned,
Or merely ebbed away
Ushering in a new day.

To hounds he rode
Or through his estate strode
In search of grouse or pheasant.
With countenance pleasant
Or severe
He ruled his peasants
Far and near.

Sometimes a thinker
And often a drinker
He felt a connection with the whole
Estate, his soul
Was as one
with generations long since gone.
Frequently inarticulate
He did hate
The untried
And cried
Out for the preservation of the old ways.

Nothing stays
Unaltered.
The rock-like squire faltered
As the wind of progress
That does redress
All ills, brought salvation
To the nation.
Now those who the price of everything know, hold command
While squire and peasant stand
Bemused, upon this altered land.

“The Dead Man Walking” by Thomas Hardy

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Thank you to my colleague Alison, for drawing my attention to Thomas Hardy’s poem, “The Dead Man Walking”. It is a powerful piece which does, I believe speake for itself, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZP1v54SeHY4

A review of my latest collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”

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Thank you to Emma Lee for taking the time to read and review my latest collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”. You can find Emma’s review here, https://emmalee1.wordpress.com/2016/05/11/lost-in-the-labyrinth-of-my-mind-k-morris/.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be

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Polonius famously remarks, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be, for loan oft loses both itself and friend”. While I haven’t lost any friends as a consequence of lending books, I have determined not to let others borrow my work in future.
As those of you who follow this blog will know, the print edition of “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” has been available to buy for several months. Since it’s publication I have given away copies to family and friends. In addition several libraries and my local pub (who maintain a small lending library) have been recipients of free copies of “Lost”. While I am delighted to have my book available in libraries and dens of iniquity (sorry I mean pubs)! I have clamped down on lending “Lost in the Labyrinth” to readers other than via the institutions (including my local pub) who hold copies. My rucksack usually contains several copies of “Lost” which, if the opportunity arises I show to potential readers in the hope they will purchase a copy. While a number of people have bought copies without asking to borrow my work, I have been surprised that several individuals have asked, “Can I borrow it?” The first few times this question was asked resulted in me answering in the affirmative. I have, however now come to the conclusion that if, after having looked at my book someone is sufficiently interested to request to borrow a copy, then they are (potentially) intrigued enough to purchase one. I have therefore taken to saying that the book is for sale and (thus far) readers have happily bought my work.
Someone or other famously remarked that “its nice to be nice”. Indeed it is. However authors are not registered charities and we should not be expected to give away or lend out our books for free. This may sound harsh, however one would not expect the local butcher or publican to give away free joints of meat or beer so why should authors be expected to do so? Having said that, I have given away at least one copy of my work to a person who, I sensed could not afford to pay for it. I felt this was the right thing to do. However those who can pay (unless they are family and/or close friends) should, in my opinion do so. I wouldn’t expect a free haircut in my local barber’s nor should he expect a free copy of my book.
In conclusion, generosity is a wonderful trait but, as authors we need to insure that we are not taken advantage of by those who could easily pay for our work but instead choose to request a free copy or to borrow one. Charity is a splendid thing and I have (with fellow authors) contributed to a charity anthology in aid of Guide dogs). However charity and money making need to be separated out, otherwise authors risk what is (often) only meagre earnings from their litary endeavours being swallowed up by paying out for their own work which they then give away or lend rather than sell.

To all those who hate

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There is a quiet place out of reach
Of those who hatred preach.
They prate,
And understand to late
Or perhaps not at all
That pride comes before a fall.

Words meaningful as a harlot’s compliment fall
On the ear
Of men who hear, What they want to hear.
The truth clear
Is, I fear
To often lost, in sound and beer.

The fanatic’s words drear
Will Fill the empty soul
Of those who’s goal
Is the destruction of the whole
Liberal project,
To which They object
Without knowing why,
Then, pointlessly die.