The Kent and Sussex Poetry Society are running their 2020 Open Poetry Competition.
Anyone can enter, either online or by post, and submit a poem and/or poems on any subject.
The closing date for entries is 31 January 2020. For details please visit, https://kentandsussexpoetry.com/the-kent-sussex-poetry-society-open-competition/.
When a barmaid who is more than divine
Said, “sir, you have had to much wine!”,
And I said, “only a fool
Could possibly fall off this stool!”,
She said, “you are lying in the wine!”.
An interesting article in The Times, which is, on the whole not very complimentary about Instapoets (I.E. those poets who post on Instagram), https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/why-instagram-means-poetry-is-going-from-bad-to-verse-d25rc9h3s.
The article ends with a list of the 10 leading poets on Instagram.
I do (occasionally) post some of my poetry on Instagram and you can find my page here, https://www.instagram.com/kmorrispoet/.
(Please note, The Times is protected by a paywall, which means that you can only read articles if you have a subscription to the newspaper. You can, however register free of charge for 1 month and access content, however after this period your card and/or bank account will be debited, unless you cancel within the period specified on The Time’s website).
When a young lady named Leigh
Said, “I really like your poetry!”,
And I said, “thank you very much!
Would it be okay to go Dutch?”,
She said, “no, pay for me!”.
(to “go Dutch”, is to share the cost of something, for example a meal in a restaurant).
The rain
Patters Amongst these leaves.
I listen again
And ascertain,
That its the breeze
Midst these trees.
Yet it sounds the same
As rain.
A mix
Of limbs
And diverse sins.
Some get their kicks
From rhyme.
Time
Passes
For lads and lasses.
Bodies intertwine
Genes travel on
Though we are gone,
Whilst others leave a rhyme
Behind, for posterity to find.
When a young lady named Leigh
Said, “you have had too much tea!”,
And I said, “are you judging?”,
She said, “no, I am begrudging,
The fact you left none for me!”.
Its my birthday today.
I shall walk in the wood
And maybe see
A nymph.
But, if so,
I shall be good!
I shall go to the pub
Tonight
And delight
In the company of companions dear,
As we sit near
To the open fire.
I am 51.
Over half a century has passed.
Tonight I shall raise a glass
And wonder where the time
Has gone,
And be glad
That I have
Friends, and rhyme.
Whilst walking in The Forest of Dean
I met a girl by a stream,
Who said, “I’m a nymph”.
I said, “you should rinse,
As your teeth are far from clean!”.
I
Would rather die
In this darkening park,
While
Evening birds sing,
Than in some sterile
Hospital wing,
Where drugs oblivion bring,
And no birds sing.
—
Having written the last line, I am reminded that I owe a huge debt to John Keats, “La Belle Dame sans Merci”, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44475/la-belle-dame-sans-merci-a-ballad).
The last 2 lines of the first stanza of Keat’s poem read:
“The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing”.
While the last stanza of the poem runs thus:
“And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing”.
K Morris - Poet 