The steady tick tock
Of the clock.
I am here,
You are not.
All my human pride.
I can not hide
From the inexorable tick tock
Of the clock.
Now I am here,
Then I am not.
Tick Tock
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Category Archives: creative writing
There Was A Young Lady Called Honey
There was a young lady called Honey
Who had the brain of a bunny.
She got a job
With a man named Bob,
But he never paid any money!
Your assistance in choosing a book cover for “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” would be much appreciated
As many of you are aware, I am in the process of publishing a further collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”.
The collection derives it’s title from the first poem, which is entitled (appropriately enough) “My Old Clock I Wind”.
I am in the midst of choosing a photograph for the book cover and would greatly appreciate your views on the photographs featured here, which show the clock from which the book derives it’s title.
Comments concerning the quality of the images, which picture you prefer and why (together with any other input) would be much appreciated.
Version 1: Clock Close-up
Version 2: Clock
Version 3: Clock and Picture
Please leave your comments below or, if you prefer send an email to newauthoronline (at) gmail dot com (please note, the address is rendered in this manner to avoid spam)!
There Was A Young Man Called Holmes
There was a young man called Holmes
Who investigated some missing gnomes.
But if one takes a look
In Watson’s enthralling book,
There is no case of “The Missing Gnomes!”
Kipling May Regret
In the restaurant its just the waiter and I,
While outside the window Vehicles speed by.
“There are a lot of beautiful women outside today”,
He remarks by way
Of conversation.
I drink
My wine and think
About this nation
On who’s empire the sun would never set.
Kipling may regret,
Yet
The sun continues to shine
And there is curry and wine,
While in the street
Multiracial feet
Hurry
Along,
Beating out a more or less harmonious song.
There was a middle-aged man called More
There was a middle-aged man called More
Who was a saloon bar bore.
He asked the barmaid,
“How long have I stayed?”
She gave a very loud snore!
Should I Explain?
Should I explain
Or leave those who gather the grain
To glean
What I mean?
I am no expert
But hope my words divert
And cause readers to think
As they from poetry’s fountain drink.
There Was A Ghost Called Frank
There was a ghost called Frank,
Who liked his chains to clank
In a manner most foul,
(Which caused the dogs to howl)!
And his stare was cold and blank.
—
A disreputable old ghost called Frank
Liked his chains to clank.
He stole a young lady’s towel,
In a manner most foul
As she lazed on the river bank.
Mums The Word
An interesting expression
Is “the world’s oldest profession”.
Many a confession
Has the priest heard.
Mums the word.
He knows the flesh is weak
And will not speak
Of the desire
Burning in peasant and squire,
For discretion
Is his profession.
A review of “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”
I was pleased to receive the below review of my forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”. Please note, the reviewer received a free electronic copy of “My Old Clock I Wind” in exchange for an honest review. I am grateful to JC for taking the time to read and review my book.
—
“From the very first poem, My Old Clock I Wind, the subject of this volume of poetry is known… we can stop the hands of a clock but not the hands of time.
And if there were a soundtrack to this book of poetry, it would be George Harrison’s, All Things Must Pass.
Every time I review one of Kevin’s books I am struck by the way he can take a subject matter and make it sound fresh to each poem, not one poem ever feels
like it is just filler material, each can stand on its own.
Although the main theme is of time marching on to an unknown destination, death, and decay, we must question that destination and fully embrace it if we
want to start living life to the fullest. These themes are interwoven in poems about the seasons, ecology, social media, the modern world versus the past.
A few of my favorite are Count Dracula Went Out to Dine, Feather, Twenty Seventeen, and Graveyard.
A notable mention is Daffodils; one would think there has been enough poetry about this flower but Kevin manages to place it in a new refreshing situation.
In another poem, we are invited for an Evening Walk along with Kevin’s guide dog, Trigger to Hampton Court.
I think this is a handsome volume of poetry and would make a good companion on any day no matter the weather”.
(JC’s website – https://nimbus432.wordpress.com/).
K Morris - Poet 