Tag Archives: k morris poet

Lust

Unadulterated lust.

Needs must.

No scent of musk,

Just dust

And my nose savouring the scent of books!

 

(The above was inspired by reading the following post by Jennifer Calvert, https://jennifercalvertwriter.wordpress.com/2015/06/17/lustful-sin/. If you haven’t already please do check out Jennifer’s blog).

 

Kevin

A disillusioned Man Of The World’s Song

A rhythmic motion

Like a ship upon the ocean

Your legs swung

But to me no joy brung.

You spoke in a foreign tongue.

No songs where sung.

You where young

Eighteen or twenty

Our hearts they where empty.

Yes you where young,

Your feet in heels swung .

I see them swinging still

I have had my fill

Of desert beds and swinging legs.

Love to me is dead.

The Great Experiment!

BookCrossing is the practice of leaving books for others to find. Usually a message will be included allowing the person who finds the book to inform the individual who has left it that it has been found. There exist Book Crossing websites to facilitate this process.

I decided to release my baby, “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose” into the great beyond. It is already available in the Amazon Kindle store, in my local book store (The Bookseller Crow) and direct from me. However I thought it would be fun to put a note in 4 copies of “Dalliance”, saying that I would love to know what people think of my book, and release it into the wild. It may be that I receive no feedback but nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Later today I will leave 2 copies of “Dalliance” in public places while a friend will drop off a further 2.

(for “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose” please visit http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E.

For a recent review of “Dalliance” please go to https://bibliomad.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/dalliance-a-collection-of-poetry-and-prose-by-k-morris-book-review/.

You can find information on BookCrossing by visiting this link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BookCrossing.

The Bookseller Crow can be found by clicking here http://booksellercrow.co.uk/.

If you are interested in obtaining a print edition of “Dalliance” direct from me please email newauthoronline (at) gmail dot com).

A 5 Star Review Of My Book “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose”

Many thanks to Olivia Emily for taking the time to read and review my book, “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose”. For Olivia’s 5 star review of “Dalliance” please visit the following link, (https://bibliomad.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/dalliance-a-collection-of-poetry-and-prose-by-k-morris-book-review/).

 

Kevin

John

This is the place of passing delight,

Where souls are lost at dead of night.

This is the place of lust and sighs,

Where something in each man dies.

This is the place of creaking boards,

Where men unsheathe their mighty swords.

This is the place of guys called John,

Where satisfaction, once obtained, they are gone.

 

 

The Personal In Poetry

Recently I asked an acquaintance whether, in her opinion my poetry “is to personal?” She responded that poetry is, by it’s very nature personal and that my writing does not, in any case fall into the category of overly personal poetry.

The above conversation started me pondering on what a poet’s work says about the writer. The first point which must be made is that the mere fact of writing about a topic does not imply that the poet has any involvement in it. For example he may write about boxing or stamp collecting without ever having participated in either activity. One must be careful therefore not to draw erroneous conclusions that A must be somehow involved in Z merely owing to A expending much ink on Z. Having entered the above caveat, it is undoubtedly true that much poetry is personal and by immersing ourselves in the poet’s work we gain an enhanced understanding of both the poet and his poetry.

In his poem, “Aubade” Philip Larkin describes waking at 4 am, looking around his room and thinking about death, from which none of us can escape, try as we might to hide from the fact of our own mortality. Larkin’s poem is intensely personal, “I work all day and get half-drunk at night …”. Larkin describes religion as a “moth eaten brocade” and his lack of religious conviction adds to his fear of death. Larkin’s fear of the grim reaper is intensely personal and the brilliance of Aubade lies in the manner in which the poet communicates his dread of “unresting death”. (For an interesting article on the poem please see http://www.telegraph.co.uk/comment/columnists/anwilson/3554550/Philip-Larkins-almost-perfect-poem.html).

Ernest Dowson’s Cynara is another profoundly personal poem. In it the poet describes his encounter with a prostitute,

“All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,

Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;

Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;

But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:

I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion”.

Dowson’s hedonistic lifestyle, “I called for madder music and stronger wine” is an attempt to escape from the memory of Cynara, the poet’s unrequited love interest. Despite Dowson’s attempts to blot out the recollection of Cynara she remains ever present, a kind of Banquo’s ghost at the poet’s parties. Dowson’s life was cut short (he died at the age of only 30). Yet he left behind the wonderfully moving and personal Cynara.

In conclusion it can be seen that poetry can (and frequently) does reveal much about the poet. Indeed it is virtually (perhaps entirely) impossible to write poetry without revealing something of oneself. However, as pointed out earlier in this post we should not conclude that writing about a subject necessarily implies that the writer is somehow a participant in the matter being described.

One Night Stand

The passage of time muddles the brain, I don’t recall your name.

Perhaps Marie or Melisa, no matter its all the same.

Though some would consider it shocking, it meant absolutely nothing,

You kept on your stockings,

I feared my neighbours knocking.

It signified everything and nothing,

A girl in suspenders and stockings.