Me reading my poem ‘Apart’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Apart’
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Guest author: Kevin Morris – Kipling may regret…
My thanks to Sue Vincent for her kindness in publishing the below poem by me.
Image: StockSnap at Pixabay
*
In the restaurant its 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 who’s empire the sun would never set.
*
Kipling may regret,
Yet
The sun continues to shine
And there is curry
And wine,
While in the street
Multiracial feet
Hurry along,
Beating out a more or less harmonious song.
*
About The Author
I was born in Liverpool in 1969, a year best known of course for my birth. Well no, actually it is better known for the moon landings which certain peculiar conspiracy theorists still maintain never took place (the moon landings that is, not my birth!).
It was from my grandfather that I derived my first love of literature and I…
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There Was A Young Lady Called Bell
There was a young lady called Bell.
Who I knew extremely well.
She worked as a dancer
And was a bit of a chancer
As all the boys will tell.
There Was A Young Man From Town
There was a young man from town
Who wore a perpetual frown.
He went out on the lash
And splashed lots of cash
But he never lost that frown.
(Note: to “go out on the lash” means to go out drinking, frequently with the intention of becoming intoxicated.
To “splash”, in this context means to spend).
There Was A Young Man Called Lee
There was a young man named Lee
Who wrote a limerick about me.
It was extremely rude
And rather crude
So I can’t repeat it you see!
There Was A Young Lady Called Michelle
There was a young lady called Michelle
Who had a friend named Nell.
They lived on my street
And we would meet
By the local wishing well.
—
There was a young lady called Michelle
Who decided her soul to sell.
Having run out of money
The devil paid her in honey,
Or so her friends do tell.
When Young
When young
His blood was hot.
He flung
Himself into expense
And many a wench
Did smile
A crocodile smile
As with each python hug
He dug
His own trench.
As he grew older, his blood cooled somewhat
Though heaven knows
That passion hot
Still arose
From time to time
And manifested itself in
What some call sin …
Though to rhyme
Is no crime …
Promote your work…
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Do you have a book launch coming up…
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Tips for bloggers or writers…
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Or just try something new?
Why not write a guest post?
Promotion, especially for authors, can be difficult and finding the right opportunities at the right price is not easy. Free is always good, especially when you know the sites you are writing for have the potential to reach a wide range and number of new readers.
I like to host a guest post in the five pm slot every day whenever I can and previous guests are always welcome for a return visit. Nor am I alone in seeking guests. There are any number of bloggers out there who are always happy to…
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A Sober Satyr Reflects
So many angels with broken wings.
Do fortune’s slings
Bring them low?
Some things
I know
And wish it where not so.
Heaven is here
When angels are near,
But as the years advance
The dance
Is ever more staid.
I have with angels played
And for the pleasure paid.
There Was A Man Who Lived In The Gloom
There was a man who lived in the gloom
As he would allow no light in his room.
Many say that he was a vampire
And very few had any desire
To meet that man who dwelt in the gloom!
K Morris - Poet 