Shall I write a poem in free
Verse?
Sometimes it seems perverse
To me
To be
Free
Free Verse
4 Replies
Tag Archives: k morris poet
An Ordinary Girl
The paper is peeling
And the ceiling
Is dirty grey.
“How long will you stay?”
He asks. “What will you pay?”
I say.
Shall I be nice
And offer him a lower price?
Its so easy to pretend
To be “a friend”
When you’ve done this for a while.
You smile
And lose yourself in drink
Or think
Of Coins
And gird your loins.
Having wrangled
I lie
Entangled
In the sheet.
“You are sweet”
I say,
Thinking of my pay.
—
Me in jeans
On the bus, with my university books.
No one looks
At an ordinary girl,
Her head in a whirl
Over forthcoming exams,
And last night’s scenes.
When The Clock Strikes
“When the clock strikes, I must go” I said.
Lucifer shook his head,
For the clock had long since struck.
Sun Cream
Sun cream.
A perfect dream
Of skin
And sin
There Was A Young Man Called Grant
There was a young man called Grant
Who wished a tree to plant.
His uncle’s wife stood far too near
And, I fear
That he accidentally planted his aunt!
Pan
They say
That nymphs play
In the ancient wood.
Yet as I stood
There yesterday,
No nymphs did play.
Waking this morning
I sensed a warning
In rock.
Mysteries may unlock
As Pan pipes play,
But the nymphs they
Will not stay
Tell the truth and shame the devil
“Tell the truth and shame the devil” the people said.
So he told it straight
And hate
Descended upon his head.
So he told a lie
And said “the sky
Is always blue”.
The people clapped, although they in their hearts knew
That it really wasn’t true.
There Was A Young Chap Called Dan
There was a young chap called Dan
Who met a girl with a fake tan.
To his surprise
She batted her eyes,
And introduced herself as Ann!
There Was A Young Poet Called More
There was a young poet called More
Who wrote using metaphor.
His wife Jane
Did complain
That his poems made her snore!
Who is the I in I?
On Tuesday evening (23 May), I had dinner with 2 old friends. During the course of our conversation my friend, Jeff asked “Who is the I in I”? My response was that we are composed of a mix of genetic data inherited from our parents, environmental influences and the culture we absorb from a young age. All of these factors, I said, help to determine who the I in I is.
The snippet of conversation related above, reminded me of my poem “Genes” which is reproduced below:
“Are we just our genes
Means
To a meaningless conclusion,
A confusion of arms, legs and bed?
The head
Is often overruled
By the fool
Lust.
Into eternity we thrust
Desperately hoping to leave one of our kind
Behind
Ere our dalliance ends in dust”.
(“Genes” can be found in my collection of poetry, “Refractions”, which is available, as a Kindle download in the Amazon Kindle store).
