I am marrying a young lady named Chancer
Who has a job as an erotic dancer.
She thinks I have money
And calls me her honey –
But, dear reader, I am also a chancer …
Miss Chancer the Dancer
Leave a reply
Tag Archives: kevin morris author
Kafkaesque
A young man sitting at his desk
Said, “your poems are so very Kafkaesque!”
When I said, “how so?”
He said, “I don’t know!
But The Trial will come nonetheless!”
Matt’s Hat
I know a young man named Matt
Who wears a very fine hat.
He sits on the ground
And says nothing profound.
But he wears a very fine hat!
I Go out in the Rain
I go out in the rain
Again and Again
My mind on poetry.
The ground smells fresh
Of life and death
And I return again and again
To the rain
Thinking on poetry
And my mortality
Happy 2026
A very happy new year to all of my readers. I hope that 2026 is a good year for you.
Very best wishes. Kevin
The Passing Year
Should I shed a tear
For the dying year?
I survived a brain abscess
And lived to see the tree undress
In autumn.
My hair has longed turned white.
I can not fight
The passage of time.
Yet take delight
In this brief rhyme
Of life.
All things pass.
Yet my glass
Is at least half full.
The weather is dull
But I still hear the steady tick tock
Of the clock
On the wall
And relish these fallen leaves
For I, as they
Must pass away.
Stream of Consciousness Ramblings
My stream of consciousness runs
As the clock ticks.
The night is dark.
My heart is part dark.
I hear the TV
In the other room.
I imagine a girl’s perfume
But it is just I
Alone, unable to call.
Yet I may fall again
When I return to the capital city.
I can be witty
And I have desired pretty
Girls. I still do so,
But know
The night is cold
And I grow old
As the clock ticks the hours away.
In May
Girls dance around the pole.
I desire women and wine,
But time is short
And what I ought
To do
Is …
But to kiss
A girl’s soft lips
And for it to be meaningful
Would kill
This itch of mine
For women and wine.
Or perhaps I lie
To myself.
It is a truism
That wealth can not buy
Happiness.
Yet I
Continue to lie …
Cupid’s Bow
She wore heels
And brought a short
Dress to fulfil his fantasy.
They drank wine
To kill the time
And hide
The emptiness they both denied.
His transfer
Made everything fair and square.
And no arrow fell
From Cupid’s bow.
Philosophical Holly
A philosophical young lady named Holly
Owns an old and interesting folly.
I’ve talked of philosophy
With pretty Miss Lee –
But now lets discuss Holly’s folly …
Desires
I have desired
The fire
And sought for sparks
In another’s heart.
I have made art
From lust and dust
And found fleeting charms
In no lover’s arms.
I have heard words
And known the lies.
But a girl’s thighs
Delight. And the night
Covers many a fall.
I lost my grace
Many years ago
And know
The sadness that hides behind
The painted face,
The silk and lace.
Yet we both smile
And play the game
For we all fall
In the end
Be we lovers.
Or a kind of friend.
K Morris - Poet 