Victoria (Tori) Zigler, is author of the month on one of the Goodreads groups she is a member of. To ask Tori a question, or to find out more about her and her books please visit, http://ziglernews.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/im-september-2016s-author-of-month.html.
I am pleased to announce that my latest collection of poetry, “Refractions” is available to purchase in the Kindle store. To read a free sample of “Refractions”, or to buy the book, please visit Amazon HERE (for the UK) and HERE (for the US).
The book description for “Refractions reads as follows:
“The poet may redact
The light that through his poem does refract.
But the reader will therein construe
That she believes to be true”.
Light refracts causing confusion as to where it is going in the same
way that poems do. What the reader thinks the poet means and
what he actually does are often 2 rather different things but readers
will, none the less draw their own conclusions (eroneous or
otherwise).
(For my previous collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” please visit http://moyhill.com/lost/).
Heels approaching
Conscience’s reproaching
Din Shrieks, “This is sin”!
But oh, how sweet it is to give in …
Sound ever nearer,
Clearer and clearer.
The man fears her
Yet desires.
unquenchable fires.
The body tires
Yet still he aspires
To take
And her passion awake.
Is it better to be a contented pig
And dig
In the mire,
Or a rich man who’s every desire
Is met
And yet
Each new toy
Brings but a fleeting joy?
Or is it preferable to be a philosopher who thinks
And ever further sinks
Into a slough of Despond?
How should one respond
To such a question, other than to interrogate the mind
For an answer it is impossible to find?
—
The above was prompted by this post, (https://alittledaydreamer.com/2016/05/30/do-we-need-the-answers-to-everything/)
Sometimes the words won’t come
And my thoughts run
Confused
Away.
I lose
The sense of what I want to say.
My muse
Doth refuse
To play
Today.
Sinking into bliss.
A kiss.
A silver penny
So many
Shine
On women and wine.
As Dowson searches, for love divine.
Pale lost lilies.
Sillies
Weak
No words they speak
Will make him cease
In his search for peace.
Dowson died young.
No joy his lovings brung.
The same old song sung
Once more.
The hoare
Frost froze the poet, to the core.
—
Ernest Christopher Dowson was one of the Decadent or Catholic poets. Born in 1867 and dying in 1900 the poet spent a life full of wine, women and song, often seeking solace in the arms of the world’s oldest profession.
The reference to “Lilies” refers to Dowson’s fine poem, “Cynara” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Dowson).
I will not play tonight she said
shaking her flirtacious head.
But tomorrow who knows
for that is the way writing goes
I have updated my About page to include my most recent guest post on Chris the Story Reading Apes blog which deals with my collection of poetry and prose, Dalliance.
For my About page please go to http://newauthoronline.com/about/
For Dalliance; a collection of poetry and prose please visit: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E for the UK and http://www.amazon.com/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E for the US
Many thanks to Jane, of Fluency for the below guest post, which first appeared on her blog and can be found by following the below link, (https://fluencyofwords.wordpress.com/2014/11/18/death-march/). The below poem is reproduced by kind permission of Jane and remains her property.
—
Onward, men, don’t linger for longer,
feel that pride rushing through you,
the unworn wind filling your lungs.
Don’t look over your shoulder no more,
I vouch no guns pointed at your head.
Don’t worry about the world,
about your dead friends and lives,
of your soul in the barracks.
Ain’t nothing you can do,
if you wake up in a nightmare.
Lads, don’t make trouble,
to hear a bomb explode is mad,
you hear?
Don’t go telling others what’s not,
or you’ll live in a damn facility.
Go on, soldier,
live the rest of your life
with family,
in peace.
I came across Carol Ann Duffy’s poem, Adultery while leafing through “The New Poetry”, edited by Michael Hulse, David Kennedy and David Morley (Bloodaxe Books), yesterday evening. It is a powerful poem which speaks of the guilt and excitement of adultery, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cjLftgJuuM
K Morris - Poet 