A very happy Christmas to you all.
I hope that whether you are with family and friends during this festive season, or if you are spending the period alone, that your heart will be full of the joy of living.
All the very best to you all, Kevin
On hearing the tick tock
Of the clock,
On the wall,
I know not
What to write,
For the clock
Says it all.
When a young lady named Leigh
Said, “do you like my poetry?”,
I said, “its very nice,
But its full of vice,
So I really like it Leigh!”.
My hands are cold
And I am growing old.
The wall clock measures time
As I rhyme
Of young women
And sinning.
But I am growing old
And my hands are cold.
Thinking of a young woman I met,
I enter my bathroom.
No scent of perfume,
Just cars, in the distance passing by.
There is nothing to regret
So why do I
Think on a young woman I met
And cars passing me by?
I was delighted to receive the following email earlier today:
“Dear Mr Morris,
I am writing to tell you that your poems in “The Collected Poems of K Morris” that you gave me on the train on my way to college are exceptional. You might not remember me but I am the girl doing politics and history that you met on the train and gifted your amazing book to. I have always been interested in writing poems and therefore you have really inspired me to carry on my interest and write some poems of my own. I would really like to thank you for gifting me your book and inspiring me to continue writing”.
“The Selected Poems of K Morris” can be found here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/ (for the UK), and here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. (for amazon.com customers).
(Please note, I have not included the young lady’s name in order to protect her privacy).
A young man named Lake
Said, “your poems are very opaque”.
So I wrote one in latin,
About girls in pink satin,
Who keep wicked old poets awake.
I
Hear the seagulls cry,
In Liverpool,
And recall my grandfather, who said,
“They warn of a storm
out at sea”.
Am I a fool
To believe what he said?
I know that the ocean’s commotion
Will long outlast me,
And the waves will still roar
When man is no more.
Girls from ghettos
In cheap
Stilettos
Keep
The numbers of regulars on their mobile.
And, when down on their luck
Will text, or phone
And say, to men who are alone,
“Let me make you smile.
Come and feed a duck.
And lonely men reach for bread
For the duck
Must be fed
‘Ere a man’s need
For spilled
Seed,
Can be fulfilled.
When a young lady named Lou
Got her shoe stuck in very strong glue
And she said, “help me get it off!”,
I said, with a delicate cough,
“But we are in public just now, Lou!”.
—
When I saw a witches coven
Dancing around a very hot oven
And they said, “come here”,
I offered them some beer,
And joined them in their coven.
K Morris - Poet 