Tag Archives: crystal palace poetry

On the Death of a Writer Read by Kevin Morris on Dodo Modern Vidpoets

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I am pleased to have had my poem On the Death of a Writer included in the October readings of Dodo Modern Vidpoets, DODO MODERN VIDPOETS 2024/2025: VIRTUAL DODO FOURTEEN – OCTOBER 2025

 

Also included, are readings by Sophia Argyris, and my friend Nick Alldridge.

 

My poem On the Death of a Writer can also be found in my most recent collection, Passing Through; Some Thoughts on Life and Death, which is available from Amazon Passing Through: Some thoughts on life and death: Amazon.co.uk: Morris, K: 9798284279151: Books

A Patch of Sunlight

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A patch of sunlight on the hall floor.

I close the living room door

And the light is seen no more.

 

I know the night kills the light

And the ferryman waits to take

Me to the final gate

Where  there is no Cerberus

To prevent our escape.

Just what was us

And implacable fate.

My Literary Estate

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I am marrying a young lady named Kate

Who will inherit all of my literary estate.

She says, “writers have money”,

Which I find really funny –

As she’ll inherit all of my literary estate …

The Last of the Summer Grass

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The last

Of the summer grass

Is mown.

The future is unknown.

The past

May be a guide.

But we decide

What seed is sown.

But does grass

In the mower’s grasp

Feel itself free …

Jacinta’s Splinter

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When a young lady named Jacinta

Went and trod on a splinter,

She hopped all around

And said something profound.

And then she cursed that splinter!

Early October Thoughts

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The wind is fresh

Carrying the scents of life and death.

While from a tree

The autumn leaves are falling on me.

 

I lose myself in rhymes

Of passing time

And others who once stood

In autumn’s wood.

 

My friend collects acorns from leaf-strewn lawns

Hoping that Oaks may grow.

Others may see the fully grown tree.

While we will not know.

 

If there is No Heaven or Hell

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If there is no heaven or hell

Then one may as well

Give in to sin.

 

 

But they say Hell’s fire is hot

So perhaps better not

Play with pretty Miss Moriah.

 

 

Though I have heard the atheists tell

There is no hell.

So I’m going to heaven

With Moriah at 7 …

Reading in Bed

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When I met a young lady in red

Who said, “do you read when in bed?”,

I said, “dear Miss Ling

Do you fancy a fling?”,

She said, “I only read in my bed!”

A Visitation

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Hearing you cry twice

I thought of rats and mice.

 

You live in my heart

Inspiring my art.

In Shakespeare’s Macbeth

Your cry portended death.

 

 

When I hear your cry

I know I too must die.

 

 

But perhaps you and I

Will find in rhyme a kind

Of immortality –

 

 

Though, in the graveyard plot

It matters not.

Careless Miss White

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A careless young lady named Miss White

Often falls in the street at night.

A kindly vicar called Paul

Said, “many young women fall”,

As he picked her up last night …!