I am delighted to announce that around 20 of my poems have been included in the Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology for 2021-2022. The anthology is available in paperback from lulu.com and can be purchased HERE
Among those of my poems included, is “Fallen Blossom”, which is reproduced below:
I found
Blossom on the ground
Which brought
To mind the thought,
We all,
As the blossom, fall.
I am swallowed by dark
In the churchyard at night.
Then a brief beam of the floodlight
Shows the graves all stark and white.
My feet return to peopled street
And I drink of life’s wine
For I must smile
While I have time.
Would I be glad to have
This thing called fame?
I think to win the game
Would be good.
But, in the wood
Leaves turn brown
On the ground.
Its close to 1 am when
I hear the wild wind shake
My window. Later, when I go
Out I will see
How his dances
Have made free
With poor branches
And leaves
Brought low
By his breeze.
When men go
Among fallen trees
And scattered leaves
They know they to must go
And join fallen trees and leaves
Damp leaves in cold park.
Autumn days are growing dark.
The wind whistled
In the churchyard.
Then the rain came again.
Listening to rain
While reading poetry.
But why read poetry
When there is rain?
For there is poetry
In the rain.
—
Reading Clare
While listening to rain.
But why read Clare
For there
Is poetry in rain?
(The above is 2 versions of the same, maybe similar poem. The poem flows from me listening to the rain through my open bedroom window yesterday evening, while reading the poetry of John Clare).
I spent part of yesterday afternoon watching Into “The Wasteland” on the BBC Iplayer. The programme examines TS Eliot’s poem “The Wasteland”, arguing that much of the poem stems from the poet’s personal life, particularly his experiences with women and his nervous breakdown.
You can watch the programme here, https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m001d1yy#:~:text=An%20exploration%20of%20TS%20Eliot’s,20th%20century%2C%20The%20Waste%20Land. In order to do so you will need to have (or create) an account with the BBC Iplayer and click to confirm that you have a TV license. It is my understanding is that only those resident in the United Kingdom are able to avail themselves of the BBC Iplayer, so my apologies to those of my readers based outside of the UK.
I enter the graveyard
Where men forget regret
While the living
Forget their eternal
Bed is made
In waiting grave
And choose to lose
Their day
In play
With technology,
Which makes none free
Of the eternal grave.
I sat alone
On a train
In early morning.
When a young woman on her phone
Said, “are you still with your friend?”
The memory remains.
A couple yawning
In early morning.
And 2 strangers on a commuter train.
I pass by graves
On a rain soaked day.
I know those below
Do not regret the wet.
I relish the fresh
Scents of this passing day
For after my death
I will know
No rain below.
K Morris - Poet 