There was a young author named White
Who stayed up late to write.
He went on Facebook
For a quick look
And remained there until the morning light!
There Was A Young Author Named White
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Tag Archives: k morris poet
“The Devil In The Belfry” by Edgar Alan Poe
The writer, Edgar Alan Poe is noted for his tales of horror and his dark poetry. Those thinking of Poe will, in all probability recollect his dark poem “The Raven” and stories such as “The Fall Of The House Of Usher”. Po was, however also capable of satire as is demonstrated by his short story “The Devil In The Belfry”.
“The Devil In The Belfry” is a satire on a small dutch town in which nothing changes. The inhabitants of the place are contented to live with their clocks which all keep perfect time and are governed by the timepiece in the steple of the town hall, the latter being attended to by a very important gentleman who is looked up to by the townspeople.
The good people of this unchanging world find joy not merely in clocks but also in cabbages which proliferate in the place. Indeed these nourishing vegetables grow not only outside but can also be found adorning the mantlepieces of every home.
Fun for the boys in the town consists of appending watches to the tails of cats and pigs, while their fathers smoke contentedly on leather bottomed chairs and the women cook indoors. But, unhappily this blisfull life is turned up-side-down.
To read Poe’s story please visit, http://xroads.virginia.edu/~hyper/poe/belfry.html
In The Early Morning
In the early morning,
Stretching, yawning
I see
The world drear
With all it’s fear.
Or is it me
I see?
There Was A Young Lady Named Ruth
There was a young lady named Ruth
Who invariably told the truth.
Her friends disappeared one by one
Until all of them where gone.
They found her most uncouth!
There Was A Young Lady Named Holly
There was a young lady named Holly
Who stole my favourite brolly.
I met an au pair
Upon the stair.
Her name was Louise or Molly.
—
There was a young lady named Holly
Who stole my favourite brolly.
My wife found me with an au pair
Who’s name was Flair
And whacked me with a trolley!
Conscience Uncontrolled Screams In Dreams
Conscience uncontrolled screams
In dreams.
In the lair
Of nightmare
The pretence of day
Is stripped away.
If you would discern
Me, then turn
And look behind
My smile to find
What lies within my heart.
But you do not possess the art
To traverse the curse of another’s dreams
The Game Of Fame
Far and near
Oft I hear
The echo chamber resound
With the sweet sound
Of those who play,
Day after day
The game
Of fame.
Sometimes I join in
With the happy din,
Or with a cynical grin
Stay away.
But o how tempting it is to play
The game
Of fame.
There Was A Young Journalist Named Lou
There was a young journalist named Lou
Who wrote a story that wasn’t true.
A lawyer called Moat
Composed a strong note
In which he threatened to sue!
Cryogenics
A recent article in “The Daily Mail, entitled “Humans Frozen by Cryogenics Could Be Revived Using Stem Cells” http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-5462963/Humans-frozen-cryogenics-revived-using-stem-cells.html, reminded me of my poem, “Cryonics which is reproduced below:
“It is a will-o’-the-wisp, followed by the frightened or blind,
Who themselves bind
To the delusion, that the mist does not forever close
Over mouth and nose.
There are few posies for the departed,
Just an idea started
In the mind
Of those who would salvation find
In a deep freeze,
Designed to please
The ego
Of people who fear to go
Down that dark track
From whence none come back”.
“Cryonics” can be found in my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind” http://moyhill.com/clock/.
There Was A Young Lady Named Bell
There was a young lady named Bell
Who quite spectacularly fell.
I was elsewhere at the time
Composing an intricate rhyme,
In a place called Dingley Dell.
—
There was a young lady named Bell
Who quite spectacularly fell.
I was elsewhere at the time
Engrossed in rhyme
As I did her mother tell …
