On Friday I received author copies of my book, The Further Selected Poems of K Morris , which was published on 27th February. The photographs below show me holding the front and back cover of my book, as well as two poems from the collection; ‘Dog Bed’ and ‘To a Departed Dog’. My book is also available as a Kindle download, and can be found here
For the UK please visit here and for the US please visit here
My friend, Henry took the below photograph in Spa Wood, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spa_Wood on 18 March.
The wood, which is only a few minutes walk from my home, has inspired many of my poems, including this one entitled “Rain”:
“The Rain
Patters amongst these leaves.
I listen again
And ascertain
That it’s the breeze
Midst these trees.
Yet it sounds the same
As rain.”
I was reminded of the above poem as the rain was (actually) falling as Henry and I strolled through Spa Wood.
(“Rain” can be found in my collection “Light and Shade”, https://www.amazon.co.uk/Light-Shade-serious-not-poems-ebook/dp/B08B4X3GVX).
A young lady who did earnestly strive
To be watched by Great Britain’s MI5,
Climbed a very high tower
Wearing naught but a flower,
Whilst watched by a guy from MI5!
A gorgeous young lady named Lin
Plied me with whisky and gin.
Then, along with Miss Rose
We took off our clothes ..
I blame the whisky and gin!
A young lady whose name is Lou
Makes her money from movies most blue.
But she’s not as shocking
As that naughty Miss Hocking.
And I really must return Lou’s shoe!
There once was a young man of Calcutta
Who lay drunk in that fine city’s gutter.
A stray dog walking by
Said, with a great sigh,
“Do you know that is my favourite gutter?”.
There once was a girl from Bombay
Who said, “the men they never stay”.
A man from Ealing
Danced on her ceiling.
So they threw him out of Bombay!
My money spent
On short dresses.
And caresses,
Not meant.
Girls in high-heels
Never stay.
Time steals
Our day away.
A most sinful young lady named Rose
Is well known for stealing men’s clothes.
I must return a stocking
To that forgetful Miss Hocking.
But I can’t leave wearing no clothes!
I recall, as a teenager, recording plays and other things onto cassette tape. I also recollect that sinking feeling when the cassette tape became horribly tangled (those c120 tapes where amongst the worst offenders, at least in my memory).
Besides recording, I also built up (and still retain) a large library of spoken word cassettes, ranging from Stevenson’s Kidnapped through to The Turn of the Screw and When Eight Bells Toll.
Despite my memories of cassettes becoming mangled, I still have great affection for the technology, which perhaps explains why I still retain those spoken word cassettes from my childhood and teenage years.
I therefore confess to having given in to a certain amount of nostalgia as I listened to an item on BBC Radio 4’s Front Row about the rise and fall of the cassette tape, https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000sz98. The item is about 10 minutes in length and can be found at the start of the podcast.
K Morris - Poet 