Tag Archives: k morris poet

Listening To The Morning

The sun on my bookcase.

Books, their plain binding suffused with light.

Cars pass.

The song of the bird, here then gone.

The traffic continues on

Swishing as the great tide

That ebbs and flows.

The bird sings again

Competing with the vehicles noise (and winning)!

A crow khaws once.

A woodpecker joins in.

9:40, sitting at my computer, listening to the morning.

Fiona Sinclair And Message In A Bottle Poetry Magazine

Several days ago I was helped across the road by the partner of the poet, Fiona Sinclair. Fiona was on her way to the Poetry Society for a poetry reading. I must confess to not having been familiar with Fiona’s work prior to our chance (and very brief) meeting earlier this week.

On reaching home I did some digging (if one can do such a thing as digging online) and found that in addition to her own work Fiona also produces “Message In A Bottle”, a magazine featuring the work of poets other than herself. The magazine’s description reads as follows:

 

“Fiona started the poetry magazine Message in a Bottle about seven years ago. The magazine was started at the height of her illness as an antidote to boredom.

The only remit is that the work be unusual and well written. The magazine is now Poetry Kit recommended. Several of the poems included have won Poetry

Kit awards. It now attracts the best of poets from all over the world and is enhanced by the artwork of  Derek Sellen”. (For information on the magazine please visit http://www.fionasinclairpoetry.com/message-in-a-bottle.php.

Unfortunately (unless I am missing a trick) there appears to be no contact information for the magazine (or Fiona Sinclair herself) on her website.

Much of Fiona’s poetry concerns the personal. Take, for example her poem “How To Lose A Friend” (http://www.fionasinclairpoetry.com/how-to-lose-a-friend.php), in which the poet describes in a matter of fact manner how she lost a friend. The poem’s matter of factness adds to the poignancy of the poem.

For Fiona Sinclair’s website please visit http://www.fionasinclairpoetry.com/.

Heaven And Hell

To float on a cloud

As angels sing loud

Hymns

about the redemption of sins

Would, I think

Drive me to drink.

The devil would wink

And invite me to sink

To his abode below.

Should I choose to go

There would be good cheer.

bitter beer

and a warm fire, forever near

 

Well Spoken Girl

A girl well spoken.

The doors that could open

close

on this delicate rose.

The primrose path to hell is sweet

But the way back will defeat

Those who walk on dainty feet.

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover

Or you may discover

Something other

Than you bargained for.

Janus stands atop the door

while the raven does khaw.

 

From The Dark We Come And To The Dark We Shall Return

We come out of night.

Oh brief delight.

The song of the bird

A loving word

All are heard.

Nature’s scent

Our lives are spent

In joy and pain.

In the end ‘tis all the same.

From the dark womb

We come

For a time dally under the sun

Then to the tomb.

It is over all to soon.