This wine
Is not divine.
Yet it is good.
The sun may shine
On me tomorrow.
And the clock on the wall
Has no will at all.
Nameless women survive in a rhyme
And time
Would laugh, if it could
At poets who obsess
Over their reputation,
And the unknowing tick tock,
Of the uncaring, ensnaring clock.
There once was a turkey called Paul
Who, not liking Christmas at all
Escaped one snowy Christmas eve
With a fox called Steve.
The rest I fail to recall.
We both drank tea.
She smoked a cigarette
At my open window.
Pleasure tinged with regret.
Smoking is not my vice.
Thrice I have seen.
I know
A poem maybe
A window
Into a man’s soul.
When I said to pretty Miss Ling,
“Passion, it is a very strange thing!”.
The vicar raised his old eyebrows
As she took off her blouse.
While the bishop spoke of the spring.
On Monday 14th December, I was privileged to be interviewed by Ariadne Sawyer for Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s the World Poetry Reading Series. The interview took place over Zoom, and was broadcast earlier this evening.
My interview takes place approximately 12 minutes into the podcast and lasts for around 10 minutes.
I listened to the show using Google Chrome, so can verify that this browser works.
Please note, there is a minute or so of dead air at the start of the podcast, prior to the show beginning.
To listen to the podcast of my interview please visit this link, http://www.coopradio.org/station/archives/1707
A tall tree
Arrested me
As I
Passed by
The churchyard yesterday.
When I
Go away
The tree will stay.
And others will pass by.
And, perhaps, think as I.
My December Author Newsletter is now available. In it, I talk about my forthcoming interview on Vancouver Co-Op Radio, and whether my visual impairment influences my writing. To read or subscribe to my newsletter please follow this link: https://mailchi.mp/8b5f8f289d55/december-author-newsletter
I make her mine
With a kiss.
But no,
It is not so.
For her mind
Runs free
Of me.
And behind
All the gloss,
Hides innocence
Half lost.
In the restaurant, it’s 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 whose empire the sun would never set.
Kipling may regret;
Yet,
The sun continues to shine
And there is curry
And wine,
Whilst in the street
Multiracial feet
Hurry along
Beating out a more or less harmonious song.
—
“Kipling May Regret” can be found in my “Selected Poems”, which is available in paperback or as a Kindle download https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/
When an elderly spinster named Jean
Called me a wicked old libertine.
My new friend Miss Hocking
Said, “I’ve lost my stocking.
And Jean, what is a libertine?”.
K Morris - Poet 