Tag Archives: croydon poets

Sirens and Birds

I heard sirens and birds

As I stood

In the darkening wood.

Later, when the sirens where gone

The birds sang on

As I passed through

The churchyard

Pondering on what is true

 

Table Dancing

I know a young lady named Spink

Who is extremely fond of a drink.

Her and Miss Mabel

Dance on the table

When we gentlemen buy them a drink …

 

Indifference

I have been kissed

By passing lips.

They soon move on,

And are gone.

 

I have met ships

At midnight

Who sail at dawn.

 

 

How forlorn

Is the cold light

Of morn

After a sultry night

Of pleasure

In indifferent weather.

When I Met the Infamous Professor Moriarty

When I met the infamous Professor Moriarty

Who said, “come along to my party!”

The great Homes was there

With a big dancing bear.

And Watson danced nude at that party!

Sometimes, in Dreams

Sometimes, in dreams, it seems

To me

That what I feel and see

Is reality.

But, when I awake

I realise my mistake,

And partake in what we designate as reality.

Yet I may dream

And the solid things I feel and see

May merely seem to be

As Poe saw long ago

Poet Kevin Morris on the World Poetry Cafe

On 4 December, I appeared on the World Poetry Café. During my segment, I read Ernest Dowson’s “They are Not Long” and Sir Walter Ralegh’s “Even Such is Time”. In addition, I read a number of my own poems and talked about my writing process.

 

To listen to the show please follow this link World Poetry Cafe Dec 4 2025 with Kevin Morris by VictorSchwartzman | Mixcloud. My bit appears approximately 20 minutes into the podcast.

 

My thanks to Ariadne Sawyer for hosting me on the World Poetry Café.

The Autumn Dark

The Autumn dark is coming down.

One day I will drown

And leave the night

And the light.

For I am bound by dark

And will not fight

The inevitable  night.

An Elderly Writer Known as Ted\

There once was an elderly writer known as Ted

Who said, “burn all my works when I’m dead!”

His young lover Divine

Said, “they’re all online!

With the picture of the vicar in our bed …!”

Ennui

Me alone at home

Listening to the autumn rain.

You, on the train

Coming to relieve me of ennui.

We will play

On this rainy day.

But I can not pretend

That ennui will not descend again.

For I often find

That the rain

Hides behind a smile