When I stayed in a haunted old house
With ghastly ghouls and a very small mouse,
I awoke with a fright
As the clock struck midnight,
And ghouls screamed with fear of that mouse!
The Haunted Old House
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Tag Archives: kevin morris poet
The Poem of Age 35, by Turkish poet Cahit Sitki Taranci.
Yesterday, whilst Zooming with fellow poets, I was introduced to “The Poem of Age 35”, by Turkish poet Cahit Sitki Taranci. I have never visited Turkey and know very little of Turkish culture. I was, however deeply impressed and moved by Cahit Sitki Taranci’s “The Poem of Age 35”. Hence I am sharing it here The Poem of Age 35 by Cahit Sitki Taranci – Eppur Si Muove
White Poet Pretended to be Black to Get Published
Aaron Barry, a white poet pretended to be black and had poems published which had previously been rejected when submitted under his own name. This story has not surprisingly provoked a good deal of controversy and I’ll leave it to you my readers to make up your own minds on the rightness or otherwise of the situation described in this article How white man became famous as a queer Nigerian poet – Businessday NG, and Elsewhere online.
Hutt’s Lamp
When a man whacking me with a lamp
Demanded that I give him a stamp.
I said, “dear Hutt,
Please accept this uppercut!”,
Then I stamped on him and his lamp!
Lust
If you had come
That night, there might have been delight
On my part.
But old time runs
And I find women of your kind
Leave no broken heart
When they depart.
Though I have sometimes been left bereft
When fun is done
For my clock
Must stop, and I return to dust.
Yet still I find
My man’s mind
Is full of lust.
I Once Met a Man Named Max
I once met a man named Max
Who refused to pay any tax.
A young lady called Miss Lou
Spanks paying gentlemen with her shoe –
I hope that she pays her tax!
Honey
She uses the word “honey”
As easily as he spends his money
On pretty birds whose words
Are meaningful as ads seen at night
On boards offering the delight
Of ice cream dreams that melt away
Into the mundanity of day
Looking at her mobile
She smiles her painted smile,
And says, “that was fun.
Now I must run”.
Then, not forgetting her money
She leaves her honey
Who, as heels fade away
Thinks, we both pay,
Each in our own way .
The Joys of the Fairground
I know a young lady named Round
Who is extremely fond of the fairground.
Whilst on the Big Dipper
I met with a stripper
Whose name I found to be Round!
Miss Flow’s Delicious Cake
Have you seen that pretty Miss flow
Who works from a flat in Soho?
Please make no mistake
She serves delicious cake –
Well that’s what I’ve heard from Joe …!
Moriah and the British Empire
When a most forgetful old lady named Moriah
Asked, “what has happened to the British Empire?”,
And they said, “it is long gone!”,
She sighed and said, “eaten by Ron”.
She’s a most amusing old lady is Moriah!
K Morris - Poet 