When the blood
Is warm
We go with the flood
And think not of the swarm
That may hide
Inside.
For in the midst of pleasure’s sigh
We think not that we may die.
When The Blood Is Warm
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Tag Archives: k morris author
Two of my earlier poems
Below are 2 poems, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There” and “Two Voices”.
Both poems can be found in my collection of poetry, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There”, which was published in September 2015 and can be found HERE.
—
I am the girl who wasn’t there.
I did not sit upon that chair,
Playing provocatively with my hair.
I did not drink that expensive wine,
While gazing on your paintings fine.
I did not recline under the quilt so red,
Or moan with ecstasy in your bed.
If, by chance, an earring she should find,
Worry not; it is not mine.
—
You talk to me of lambs gambolling, of ramblers ambling, through fields green, beside the meandering stream.
You speak to me of verdant bowers, where lovers while away the hours, in love’s young dream.
I tell you of an urban street, where the gale buffets and people battle to retain their feet.
I impart to you the wind’s loan moan, as I wander home alone, in weather bleak.
Party Girl
She was a party girl
Her head in a whirl
Of boys
And expensive toys.
She offered
“No strings fun”
In exchange for money proffered
By those who would
(if they only could)
outrun
The solemn tick tock
Of the ever present clock.
She was gone one day,
Who can say
Where?
Few care
To know.
The man of the world shrugs.
“Drugs.
Best not go
There.
She had naturally blonde hair
I think.
Will you take another drink?”
Shadows
On such a day, when the winter sun
Casts my shadow upon yonder wall,
It is difficult to recall
That all
This will, one day, be done.
In future, will some other one, sitting here and seeing their shadow fall
Upon this self-same wall,
Know that they may not forestall
The night
Where dancing shadows are forever lost from sight.
—
(Written on 3 December 2016, while sitting in my study).
—
(Note: “Shadows” can be found in my latest collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”, which is available from Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0735JBVBG and from Moyhill Publishing, http://moyhill.com/clock/).
Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Dog’.
Poet Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Dog’.
Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘I saw a great tent’.
Author Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘I saw a great tent’.
Wind
I can hear the wind laughing outside
At our human pride.
The tide
Of time moves on
And we are gone,
With the wind
That will rescind
All
These scribbles on the wall.
I Saw A Great Tent
I saw a great tent.
In I went
And found therein
Every man’s particular sin.
There I met
A girl called regret
Who did smile
And for a while
Invited men to forget
All pain.
Returning again and again
They Forged their own chain.
I shook my head
As the gambler said
“This time I shall win”,
For I saw the bookie grin
Drinkers from far and near
Revelled in wine and beer.
They drank and drank
As the sun rose and sank.
“Cheers.
More beers
Here, barmaid for we are soon dead”.
Someone said.
As he spoke
That tent disappeared in sulphur and smoke.
Ivory Tower
The poet in his ivory tower
Has not the power
To change
This deranged
Place
Where the lunatic’s face
Flushed with belief
Brings the world to grief.
Those who think themselves sane
Cudgel their brain
And impose dreams
(which they call schemes)
For the improvement of man.
When dreams fail
The believers wail
“We will get it right next time”.
Or, for shame
They blame
The poor
Gardener who asks nothing more
Than to be left alone to cultivate his garden.
The poet begs pardon
To be excused,
With an amused smile,
For there can be no denial
That time spent in rhyme
Keeps him safe from humanity’s grime.
Crossing
Waiting at the zebra crossing
I heard a disco in a box.
I crossed
And the beat
Ceased.
K Morris - Poet 