In the dark
An urban
Fox’s bark
Pierces my heart.
I maintain
The urbane.
Amongst friends.
But, in the end,
The glass is thin
Betwixt me and him.
In the Dark
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Tag Archives: free verse
Acrostic
Provider of pleasure.
Romance isn’t free.
Oldest profession
Some say.
Time has a price
In your brief arms.
The clock jingles.
Under the sheet
They meet.
Eagerness of him.
Some say sin.
If We Had Met, Other Than We Did
If we had met,
Other than we did
Perchance the fast dance
Would end in friend.
But you had
Your need
To feed.
And I was glad
For I had
My loneliness and lust
To lose
For a while
In a girl’s smile.
But dust
I can not escape
In the loss
Of high-heel shoe
And girl’s short cape
A Poem from “The Selected Poems of K Morris”
Shadows on the wall,
I recall.
One can not catch a shade,
For it is made
Of Moonbeams
And passing dreams.
(Shadows on the Wall can be found in my Selected Poems, which can be accessed here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/.).
A Connoisseur Reflects
“The nervousness before.
I am sure
She feels it too.
But that door
We have walked through
Many times before.
And after polite conversation
With girls of diverse nations,
I take my wine.
But it’s a fact
That so often anticipation
Is better than the act.”
The Recorder
Is there a recorder, somewhere
Noting down our every act?
I doubt the fact
Of god
But who has not
In the depths of dreams
Heard the recorder
That does die with I,
And seen
The thick black book
Wherein his every sin
Is writ?
And when he is gone
The record lives on
Be it known or not.
What Prose Writers Can Learn From Great Poetry
An interesting post entitled “What Prose Writers Can Learn From Great Poetry”, https://emmalee1.wordpress.com/2021/06/30/what-prose-writers-can-learn-from-great-poetry/”.
Kevin
Leaving
On my way home
I touched the stone
Of my local church.
And longed to stay
With the singing birds
On this summer evening.
I have oft heard
The birds singing
And regretted leaving.
I envy them
For, unlike men
They do not weep.
For they see not
The final sleep.
While I
Knowing that man must die
Have the beauty of birdsong,
Which does not last long
Foxes Mating – Flash Fiction
“The foxes are mating”, I said.
Then, in bed
You used a word rarely heard
In polite company.
But there was no tea party.
Merely us 3.
I Awoke From a Doze
I awoke from a doze
Refreshed, in my old armchair.
Who knows
I may go that way.
For many a man goes
In doze.
If it be so
I shall not know.
K Morris - Poet 