Pangloss’s Song From Candide By Richard Wilbur
Leave a reply
Tag Archives: poet
Max Miller Poet
This young poet (Max is 16-years-old) is well worth checking out, http://maxmillerpoetry.wordpress.com/. I particularly enjoyed Max’s poem, The Boy On The Train. The poem resonates with me as someone who travels on the tube Monday through to Friday. I can imagine Max sitting or standing, on the tube, pen in hand quietly observing his fellow passengers.
The Highwayman
Listening To The Rain
Listening to the rain. Safe inside, no fear of the midnight knock on the door. I am at peace free to think my own thoughts. No pyres of burning books, no sound of jackboots coming over the hill. Only the noise of the comforting rain wild and free.
My Page On hellopoetry.com
I have published a couple of my poems on hellopoetry.com. You can find them here, http://hellopoetry.com/-kevin-morris/.
The Libertine By Louis Macneice
A wonderful reading of Louis Macneice’s poem, The Libertine. The poem explores the feelings of a man who has explored the pleasures of the flesh to the fullest extent possible and now, in middle age feels, to borrow a line from Keats, “half in love with easeful death”. All the libertine now desires is “leave me alone”. Profoundly sad and moving, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ru3q1LZOAw8&feature=em-subs_digest
A Question
Conversation diverting, we two flirting. Words meaning’s, lost in dreaming. Mutual attraction or mere distraction?
Where I to broach, would your reproach, destroy all hope? Would your objection, to my suggestion end in dejection? Fear of rejection, no suggestion? Should you agree, what then for you and me?
High Heels
The sound of stilettos approaching. He, fearing, hoping. Tremulous with expectation, torn twixt dread and elation, he holds his breath, waiting.
Sea And Sky
Take my hand, let us walk along the sand, where the seagulls mournful cry fills the sky. See the beauty of the sky, the wild clouds on high, you and I will die, be as one with sea and sky.
Thoughts on the unatainable
Oh that I might, in the softness of night, steal a kiss from your lips. Oh that my hands might go awandering in your unexplored land. Your mysteries remain hidden, forever forbidden to those such as I, who yearn to walk at your side. Oh to lie in your arms and forget life’s harms. Beauty or duty?I do forget myself.
K Morris - Poet 