Tag Archives: kevin morris poet

“My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” is now available, as an audio download, from Audible

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I am pleased to announce that my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” is now available, as an audio download from audible.co.uk and audible.com.

“My Old Clock I Wind” derives its title from the clock which sits, in pride of place, on the bookcase in my living room. The title poem reads as follows:

“My old clock I wind
And much philosophy therein find.
I can bring
The pendulum’s swing
To a stop with my hand;
Yet I can not command
Time to default
On his duty and halt
The passing of the years.
He has no ears
For our laughter and tears
And his sickle will swing on
Long after we are gone”.

About The Author

I was born in Liverpool in 1969, a year best known of course for my birth. Well no, actually it is better known for the moon landings which certain peculiar conspiracy theorists still maintain never took place (the moon landings that is, not my birth!).

It was from my grandfather that I derived my first love of literature and I have many happy memories of him reading to me. As I grew older I learned to read Braille which opened up the world of independent reading and I still remember how amazing it was to me, as a young boy, to be able to sit with a book on my knee reading for myself.

I attended school in Liverpool and later went on to read history and politics at university. Having obtained my BA, I went on to gain an MA in political theory.

Since 1994 I have lived and worked in London. I find that I cannot write with background noise, other than the singing of birds, and am lucky that my home overlooks a large garden and an historic park in Crystal Palace, famed for it’s steep hills and fresh air.

Where to buy “My Old Clock I Wind”

Audible (UK) – https://www.audible.co.uk/pd/Arts-Entertainment/My-Old-Clock-I-Wind-and-Other-Poems-Audiobook/B077VYT3X6/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1512505394&sr=1-1
Audible.com – https://www.audible.com/pd/Drama-Poetry/My-Old-Clock-I-Wind-and-Other-Poems-Audiobook/B077VS5CTN/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1512505653&sr=1-1
Amazon (US) – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0735JBVBG
Amazon (UK) – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0735JBVBG
Moyhill Publishing – http://moyhill.com/clock/
The royal National Institute of Blind People (braille edition) – http://shop.rnib.org.uk/ or call 0303 123 9999, quoting order number 25870603.

Any Port

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“Good morning stranger, I know you well”.
They greet
Under well worn sheet.
“There is no spell
To hold you here
Tis simply the sprinkle,
The familiar tinkle
Of worldly dust
That has thrust
We two together.
In stormy weather
Ships seek any port.
On a wave of need caught
They chance their luck
And sometimes buck”.

A burned child dreads the fire

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A burned child dreads the fire,
They say,
But, as day follows day,
We see that he
Grasps the hot coal
To his soul,
Again and again,
Despite the pain.

The coal burns
And the child turns
Away,
(Perhaps for a day)
Or so.
Yet back he will go,
To that place I know,
Truth to tell,
All too well.

A Conversation

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First speaker: “Is it romantic?”
Second speaker: “no,
Although,
Some hold it to be so.
It is a frantic dance
Where romance
Has little chance”.

First Speaker: “Are you friends
Of a kind?”
Second speaker: “I find
That there are schemes,
Means
To ends.
It all depends
On what you mean by friends …”.

First speaker: “Is there ever respect?”
Second speaker: “I can not reject
The idea that there is sometimes respect,
But some will never accept
That this is often the case
So after imagined nightmares chase”.

First speaker: “Is it cold?”
Second speaker: “Warm arms enfold
But gold
Is by it’s nature cold”.

Naïve?

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Naïve?
Who to believe?
What we perceive,
The signals we receive,
Are so much
Double Dutch.
Or are they so?
For the wise may know
The meaning
Of scheming.

An imagined delight
Takes flight.
The perceived swan
Is gone
And the old owl
Has no time
For the poet’s rhyme,
For behind each word
Is heard
The wolf’s foul growl.

Lothario Growing Old

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As I grow older, my blood cools.
I shall leave fools
To kick against the rules
And retire
From desire,
For the fire
Has burned me to the core.
The flames roar
On occasions still entices.
But no, I will not haggle over prices!
Fools may pursue their own devices
While I drink
The water that cools
And think
On half-forgotten spices.