There was a young man called Matt
Who kept an enormous rat.
It caused the girls to scream,
But some say I dream,
And it was, in fact a cat!
There Was A Young Man Called Matt
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The Sensation Book Is Here!
I have been aware, for some considerable time now, that there is emerging a wholly new kind of book. I am not speaking here of ebooks for these are now “old hat”. Rather I am referring to the Sensation Book.
So what is the Sensation Book I hear you ask?
I was recently contacted by Sensation Books International with a request that I take a look at their forthcoming book, “The Traditional English Garden”. Being a lover of gardens and, in particular scented flowers I, of course jumped at the opportunity.
My experience of this book is rather painful! On turning to the first chapter “The Rose in the English Garden” I was blown away by the scent of the many roses which wafted up from the paper (the scent is, I understand kept fresh and ever changing by a series of tiny chips in the paper which keep the pages constantly refreshed with scents deriving from the Cloud, a kind of virtual reality). My pleasure was, however soon curtailed by a most painful sensation, that of being stung on the nose by an extremely large bumble bee.
The dratted thing was concealed smack bang in the middle of a gorgeous red rose which I had, until that moment been savouring.
Needless to say I closed the book immediately and have written a strong letter of complaint to the Director of Sensation Books International, one Ms J Ker expressing, in the strongest possible terms my dissatisfaction with the company’s offering.
In conclusion the idea of connecting books to the cloud and the utilisation of virtual reality to enhance the experience of the reader is, in theory a wonderful concept. However such projects should be handled with great care as my poor nose can testify!
A review of my forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind And Other Poems”
I am grateful to Annette Rochelle Aben, for writing the below honest review of my forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”, in exchange for a free electronic copy of the book:
28 March 2017
My review for “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” by Kevin Morris
If you have yet to find yourself lost in a book of poetry by English poet, Kevin Morris, then lose yourself in My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems. Allow yourself to wander through the changing seasons, to experience the magic of limericks, and to be entertained by the musings of a man who sees this world through different eyes.
You’ll learn about girls with unsuitable shoes, what having dinner with Dracula might be like and wonder if a garden log might be an alligator or perhaps a crocodile. Be thought provoked, by a magpie and perhaps find yourself shaking your head in agreement with the last line of Kevin’s Melting Ice. “and now the call, of the bird, goes unheard, by those drunk on their own words.”
For Kevin Morris, another notch on the belt of his writing career. For us, the readers, yet another opportunity to experience the world through the poetic eyes of a multi-faceted English poet. My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems belongs in your collection.
Date Night
The black girl talks in a loud voice.
The white man drinks
And thinks
On choice.
The wine is okay.
He knows she will stay
For a while
With her fixed smile.
They chat
About this and that.
“Have you dated white guys before?”
He asks opening the bedroom door.
Coin
She was hot as the weather
As hell for leather,
They rolled in the heather
With the chink of coin
To join
Them together.
There Was A Young Man Called Birch
There was a young man called Birch
Who never would go to church.
The vicar did say
“For your soul I shall pray.
You reprehensible young man called Birch!”
Nothing
How can one repent
When there is no scent
Left behind
For a man to find?
My Forthcoming Collection of Poetry (An Update)
I have now received the proof-read manuscript of my forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind And Other Poems”.
So what inspired the title of my collection?
On the bookcase in my living room sits a Ting-Tang clock which dates, I believe from the early 1900’s.
The clock inspired the first poem in my collection (and the title of the book) and is entitled, appropriately enough “My Old Clock I Wind”.
As I wound my faithful old time piece I felt acutely aware of time passing. The pendulum swings and another second is, forever lost.
Next Tuesday (4 April) my friend, Jeff will take a photograph of my clock, which will adorn the front cover of “My Old Clock”.
The photograph and the manuscript will then wing it’s way to my publisher who will produce both an electronic and print version of the book, (I plan to use Moyhill who published my collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, http://moyhill.com/lost/.
Kevin
Butter
The cook does mutter
About the missing butter,
While the dog licks his lips
And eyes up the chips …
—
Yesterday (25 March), I found my guide dog Trigger with his nose in a tub of butter. I had heard a crash in the kitchen earlier. however, on investigating and there appearing to be nothing amiss, I returned to the living room, until the sound of my hungry canine tucking into a tub of butter reached my ears!
Chained To The Rhythm (Katy Perry)
