Category Archives: musings

Poet Kevin Morris’s Interview on Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series, on Thursday 17 December 2020

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

Churchyard Tree

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.

December Author Newsletter

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

From The Selected Poems of K Morris

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

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?”.

The Past

Perhaps one ought
Not to look back.
Yet I walk
That old, familiar track.

I pass the flats,
(Once a bustling, hustling pub).
And remember idle talk
Over Sunday grub.

Having passed the flats
I retrace my tracks.
For one can not go back,
To what is long since gone.

A Bird On The Wing

Below are 2 slightly different versions of a poem I composed earlier today.

—

A bird on the wing
Is such a temporary thing.
Though, when it dies,
In poetry, it survives.

—

A bird on the wing
Is such a temporary thing.
Though, when it dies,
It’s poem may survive.