Tag Archives: k morris poet

The jaded Pleasure Seeker

Feet that dance
Awhile,
Perchance
Provide surcease
A kind of peace.
But romance Is not my style.

The painted smile
May for a time beguile.
A fleeting kiss.
A kind of bliss
But romance is not my style.

Lovers may dally
In verdant valley
While
I love’s cost tally.
But romance is not my style.

Would that I could resile
The made up face
The silk
And lace.
But romance is not my style.

The 10 Worst Story Openings

An interesting article on “The 10 Worst Story Openings”, (http://lauralee1.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/10-ways-not-to-open-story.html). While I agree with some of the points made in this piece, getting hung up on how one should (or should not) begin a story can lead to a loss of spontaneity, with the writer worrying about the perfect (if such a thing exists) beginning rather than simply writing the best story they are capable of. Again what one reader perceives as being clichéd may well be regarded by others as constituting a great opening paragraph.

Kevin

A 5 star review of my collection of short stories, “The Suspect and Other Tales”

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I was delighted to receive the below 5 star review for my collection of short stories, “The Suspect and Other Tales”:

“This is a well-written collection of tales, some of which have surprising endings, and all of which make for great reads.
I enjoyed “the Condemned Man” a lot. But “Something Wicked” and “The 8.32” were my favourites”.
For the review please visit HERE
Many thanks to the reviewer for taking the time to read and review “The Suspect and Other Tales”.

Kevin

In an efort to help fellow authors, J K Rowling shares her rejection letters

In an efort to help fellow authors, J K Rowling shares her rejection letters, (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3509237/We-publish-book-commercial-success-Harry-Potter-author-JK-Rowling-shares-rejection-letters-publishers-writing-pen-Robert-Galbraith.html).

How Thin

Oh how thin
Is the divide betwixt virtue and sin.
A rake’s grin
Or a smile
That beguiles
Girls who flirt
In skirts
Short.

Ought?
Ought not?
Passion hot.
Cool reflection
May lead to dejection.
There is no rejection
When the coin does spin
And what some call sin
Enters in.

Of poets and virgins

Yesterday evening (Tuesday 22 March) saw me with fellow poet, Toby Wheeler at Poetry Unplugged (http://poetrysociety.org.uk/event/poetry-unplugged-2/2016-03-29/). Poetry Unplugged is a weekly event, hosted by the Poetry Café, affording poets the opportunity to read their work. Yesterday evening was my first time reading at Poetry Unplugged, however I was not alone in this as a number of other “virgins” (the label applied by the host to we first timers)! Also read their work.
Those wishing to read had to register between 6-7 pm, with the open mic session starting at 7:30. There where 34 readers and given the significant interest in participating each poet was allowed a slot of 4 minutes duration. I think this was entirely fair as it afforded all those wishing to participate an opportunity to do so.
I read the following poems from my recently released collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”:
“Lost”
“Leaves Blown at Night”
And “Raining”.
In addition I read my poem “Midnight”, which appears in my collection of poetry and prose, “Dalliance”.

The atmosphere in the Poetry Café was warm and friendly with everyone wishing to read being given a fair crack of the whip. It was great to be introduced to the voices of so many unfamiliar poets and hear my friend and fellow poet, Toby Wheeler read his work.
If you are interested in attending Poetry Unplugged, either as a reader or a member of the audience please see the above link for details (you don’t need to book. Those wishing to read should sign-up between 6-7 pm, prior to reading commencing at 7:30 pm).

—

For details of my collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” please visit http://moyhill.com/lost/. For details of “Dalliance” please go to http://amzn.com/B00QQVJC7E.

I am reading at the Poetry Cafe tomorrow (Tuesday 22 March)

As announced on 9 March, I will be reading at the Poetry Café, 22 Betterton Street, Covent Garden, London, on Tuesday 22 March.

Poems will be taken from my recently released collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, which is available in print and electronic formats (http://moyhill.com/lost/).

If you are in the vicinity of Covent Garden, it would be wonderful to see you at the Poetry Café. Kevin

Where to buy or borrow “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”

Yesterday (Saturday 19 March) I announced that my collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” is available to purchase (in print) from Moyhill Publishing (http://moyhill.com/lost/).
Saturday morning saw me visiting my local independent bookshop, The Bookseller Crow who have, I am pleased to announce agreed to stock “Lost in the Labyrinth”. To find out more about Bookseller Crow on the Hill please visit (http://booksellercrow.co.uk/).
My wanderings took me from The Bookseller Crow to Upper Norwood Joint Library, who have also agreed to add “Lost” to their shelves. To find out more about Upper Norwood Joint Library please go to their website (http://uppernorwoodlibrary.org/). My thanks go to Bookseller Crow and Norwood Library for agreeing to stock “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”.
“Lost” is also available from Waterstones (https://www.waterstones.com/book/9781905597697), and as a Kindle download (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AF5EPVY/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_ZfN7wb1B014G1).

Dowson

Sinking into bliss.
A kiss.
A silver penny
So many
Shine
On women and wine.
As Dowson searches, for love divine.

Pale lost lilies.
Sillies
Weak
No words they speak
Will make him cease
In his search for peace.

Dowson died young.
No joy his lovings brung.
The same old song sung
Once more.
The hoare
Frost froze the poet, to the core.

—

Ernest Christopher Dowson was one of the Decadent or Catholic poets. Born in 1867 and dying in 1900 the poet spent a life full of wine, women and song, often seeking solace in the arms of the world’s oldest profession.
The reference to “Lilies” refers to Dowson’s fine poem, “Cynara” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Dowson).