Tag Archives: k morris author

The Decision

“I haven’t done this kind of thing before. I mean girls from my background do sometimes. I know they do, but it’s not kind of a normal thing to do is it? I know other girls do it but, really I’m not sure …”, she said, conscious of repeating herself.
The girl leant forward on the hotel barstool, her stillettos clicking against it as she did so.
“There is a first time for everything”, he said trying not to be overt in his admiration of those slim bare legs. “Why not give it a go, I’ve never had anyone regret it afterwards?”

“Oh I don’t know. What will my friends think of me? As I just told you, girls don’t usually do this kind of thing. Well girls like me that is”. She said staring nervously at the money on the bar.
“Go on, you know you want to”, the man replied giving what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Well … as you say my friends don’t need to know and I’m an open minded kind of girl, always up for trying new things. No one is watching are they?” she said glancing around the practically empty bar.
“No, no, no one is looking at us. Now is as good a time as any if you want to go through with it”, he said, glancing at her tiny, perfectly manicured fingers as they played nervously with the cash on the bar.
“OK, I’ve made a decision”, she said picking up the money and, glancing around for one final time handing it to her companion. “I like what I’ve seen so, yes I’ll buy your book. Will you sign it for me?”, she asked smiling shyly …

Woman

What is a woman that she holds such power
Over men?
She is a delicate flower
Who when
Scorned
Reveals thorns
That prick
The hapless man to the quick.
Woman is a pussycat with soft furr
Giving off a throaty purr.
But those who dare
To stir
Her
Wrath she will, with polished claws tear
Apart.

Beware for the heart
In love given
May with stillettos be ridden
Over.
“You drove her
To it by your behaviour”.
“I am your saviour”
She will say.
And, as sure as night follows day
You will be begging the girl to stay
For her claws are now sheaved
And who would believe
That one with a face so fair
Could rend and tear?

In Search of the Ultimate

The search for the ultimate thrill
May chill
Or kill
The fickle heart.
Better to leave dark
Yearnings to art
Where they can do no harm,
Than down the primrose way start.

The charm
Of a thing
May oft times bring
A fleeting pleasure,
But come the set of sun
When our fun is done
The sting
We feel, then repent at leisure.

“Knock, knock! Never at quiet. What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I’ll devil-porter it no further. I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire”.
Macbeth. Act 2, Scene 3.

Welcome

Welcome to a world of plastic
Where values elastic
Forever stretch
And men letch
After robot girls
Who are Ever ready for action.

Welcome to a world where satisfaction
Is guaranteed
And men are from bordom freed
By pills
Producing thrills
Of the most delightful kind.

Welcome to a world where the troubled mind
Is no more
For technology has in store
A virtual Paradise, In which dreams that shatter
No longer matter
For the programme can be infinitely changed.
Welcome to a world deranged!

The Crowd

I am a ripple lost upon the commotion
Of the great ocean,
As the sea around me roars.
The applause
Of gulls
Lulls
Me towards a kind of doze,
A daydream, wherin I smell the sweet rose
or poetry compose.

Caught in a trap Of my own device.
I hear the clapping hands
Of those I do not understand,
For the flock know not, that they have lost the land.
I could walk away
But I must stay
And try not to guffaw
At the empty roar
Of the fickle crowd.

I would rather be a cloud
That sails high
In a tranquil sky,
Or a fish,
The ocean’s
Erratic motion
Becoming a gentle swish
As I swim through
Waters deep
Flecked with blue.

I stand aloof
Searching for the truth.
Sometimes I feel
The real
Break through
As I blindly grope for what is true.

The Wolf and The Forn

To recognise the human and still do.
To see a heart true
And yet go through
With it, for a deal is a deal,
And ‘tis foretold
That an agreement sealed
By gold
Will hold
For what is sold is forever sold.

The heart may command
The hand
To withdraw
From the wolf’s paw.
But the forn
Torn
By circumstance dallies
With the wolf, who yawns
While the fawn tallies
The cost
Of innocence lost.

May

In forests green
I have seen
The nymphs play.
Cometh May
They will around the pole
Dance.
By chance
Some kindred soul
Seeing a special one twirl
Will take a girl
Into his arms
For who can resist the charms
Of beauty fleeting
As the budding rose
Pressed to a young maiden’s nose.
There will be time enough for weeping
When the dance is over
And we are pushing up the clover

Sugar

Sugar so sweet
Looks down on girls who, on ill shod feet
Patrol the cold and lonely street.
She turns up her delicate nose
At those who in cheap clothes
Under street lamps pose.

Sugar loves fine wines
And in expensive restaurants dines
With her darling Honey
Who spends his money
As though there were no tomorrow,
Thereby concealing some inner sorrow?

Sugar so sweet
And the girl on the street
Engage in the same profession.
Discretion
Is sugar’s middle name
But, in the end they are both the same.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3564927/Think-takes-MISTRESS-Real-life-sugar-babies-share-tips-charge-wear-dates.html

A Review of my collection of short stories, “The Suspect and Other Tales”

My thanks to Alain Gomez for this review of my collection of short stories, “The Suspect and Other Tales”, (http://bookbrouhaha.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/review-of-suspect-and-other-tales.html).

An edited version of my interview on Croydon Radio is now available

With huge thanks to David Cronin of Moyhill, I am pleased to be able to post an edited version of my interview on Croydon Radio. The previous version (posted here) ran to some 2 hours, of which my contribution is approximately 30 minutes. The edited version (which contains only my interview) can be found at:

(http://moyhill.com/lost/assets/km-interview-croydon-radio-2016-04-09-16-00-53-edited-64k.mp3).