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Tag Archives: poems
The River Rose
The river rose
But stopped halfway.
His banks will flood
Another day.
An Invitation from Kevin Morris…
My Old Clock
Poet and author Kevin Morris invites you to join him for the launch of
his latest poetry collection My Old Clock I Wind and other poems on
Wednesday 5th July at 6.30pm at the Railway Bell, 14 Cawnpore Street, Norwood, London SE19 1PF
Further details about the venue can be found HERE
The title poem of the book.
My Old Clock I Wind
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 Kevin Morris
Kevin comes from Liverpool and attended a number of schools for the
sight impaired and following his A-levels went onto study for his BA in
History and Politics and then his MA in Political Theory at Swansea
University.
Since 1994 he has lived and worked in London where he works
full-time and since 2012 has found the time to write and publish books
and post interesting articles on his blog New Author Online.
The added twist to this is that Kevin uses software that most of you reading this will never have to utilise.
Kevin has been blind since a blood clot caused severe damage when he was
just 18 months old.
Whilst he possesses enough vision to distinguish between light and dark and can see the outlines of objects he requires the assistance of Jaws (Job access with speech) and braille to use his computer.
However, you will find as you enjoy conversations via the web that this
does not cramp his style in anyway and he is a prolific author with
several published collections of his short stories.
Here are Kevin’s Online Links:
Blog – Goodreads – Twitter
Kevin’s Amazon US author page
Kevin’s Amazon UK author page
Wine and cheese will be provided for guests on the evening and other drinks and refreshments can be purchased at the bar.
Please RSVP to Kevin Morris directly at his email: newauthoronline (AT) gmail (DOT) com
In terms of getting to the venue, the nearest station is Gipsy Hill, which is about a 5 minute walk from the pub.
Crsytal Palace Station is approximately a 10-15 minute walk from the pub.
Kevin looks forward to welcoming you on 5th July to celebrate the publication of his latest work.
Were we always to say what we mean
Were we always to say what we mean,
Then the well oiled machine
Would falter
And things would alter,
For a single lapse
May lead to a collapse
Revealing the hard
Behind the façade.
Many a writer does hide
Inside
His art.
His secrets oft go to the grave,
Though the brave
Cry over art.
It is too hot
It is too hot.
Girls and boys
Sweat,
But have not
The energy for fleeting joys,
Let alone regret
Grenfell
I have just been reading of the Royals visit to Grenfell tower,
and the welcome they did receive.
I see the power
Of a non-political head of state, to represent the unity
Of the community
And grieve
That you do not perceive
The Monarchy as I do
But construe
Them as hangers-on
Who’s time is long gone.
Every week
I hear you speak
The same old guff.
I have had enough
But politeness makes me hold my tongue
For a word carelessly flung
Can cause lasting distress and bile
To often provokes a vile
Reply
Causing acquaintance to die
In a gutter of abuse.
I think you obtuse
But being wise
And somewhat to my own surprise
Hold my peace.
Sow’s Ear
Often I hear
That one can take
A sow’s ear
And a silk purse make.
This appears to be the common view
So, perforce it must be true …!
Two Lonely Rivers Met
Two lonely rivers met
And being single
Did their waters mingle.
They are lonely yet
Women, and rhyme, and wine
I have known you for a long time:
Women,, and wine, and rhyme.
The prospect is most fine:
With women, and rhyme, and wine.
The hill does gently decline:
With women,, and rhyme, and wine.
Yet the world is surely divine:
With women, and rhyme, and wine.
—
Note: I was influenced, I believe, when composing the above poem, by Ernest Christopher Dowson’s “The Poet’s Road” which runs thus:
“Wine and woman and song,
Three things garnish our way:
Yet is day over long.
Lest we do our youth wrong,
Gather them while we may:
Wine and woman and song.
Three things render us strong,
Vine leaves, kisses and bay;
Yet is day over long.
Unto us they belong,
Us the bitter and gay,
Wine and woman and song.
We, as we pass along,
Are sad that they will not stay;
Yet is day over long.
Fruits and flowers among,
What is better than they:
Wine and woman and song?”
Fly
To live and die
As a fly,
Knowing only this wood, this sky.
Yet here am I
K Morris - Poet 