I awake from sleep
And start my day
With tea.
I feel the life within me
Flowing strong
I will be
Just me
Ere I find sleep
Again.
Sometimes I weep
But the wood
Is full of birdsong.
I will walk there again
For I am half in love
And I do not have long
Ere sleep finally takes me
To beyond birdsong,
Love and sleep
When the vicar’s daughter named Miss Lee
Said, “life is merely a tragic comedy!”
And she danced quite nude,
Which the congregation found rude!
I made her a nice cup of tea!
On Thursday 29th January, I appeared on the World poetry Café together with the author of “Through the Roman Gate”, a historical novel which is available to purchase in the Kindle store. The book sounds like a fascinating read and I will be downloading it onto my Kindle.
During my segment of the podcast I read a number of my recently published work and talked about what inspires me to compose poetry.
To listen to the podcast please visit https://flashfiction2.substack.com/p/world-poetry-cafe-jan-29-kevin-morris?utm_source=podcast-email%2Csubstack&publication_id=5716717&post_id=186013381&utm_campaign=email-play-on-substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=play_card_post_title&r=dv63h&triedRedirect=true. My segment appears approximately 27 minutes in.
I am grateful to Ariadne Sawyer and Victor for hosting me on the World Poetry Café.
Sometimes I dash
Along the churchyard path.
But those who sleep
Have no appointments to keep.
And I pass by
The graveyard plot
Until I do not.
Yet I must
My final appointment keep
With worms and dust.
And the earth
Will continue to turn
Without heed or need
Of me
Walking along the familiar street
I meet
A lady who asks me
For £1
So that she
Can get to bank.
I give her the pound
And laugh at her story.
I receive no thanks
But get asked for £5
(Which I deny I have).
I go home
Thinking on philosophy,
Lies,
And the fickleness of charity.
But who
Exploited who
I wonder
As I sit alone
At home
Writing poetry …
(Note: “Bank” refers to bank station on the London underground).
When Count Dracula went to a pub
In search of some good wholesome grub,
A barmaid named Kelly
Offered him fruit jelly.
But he wanted another kind of grub …
Have you heard of a dominatrix named Nicks
Who is known for her love of sticks?
If you ask how I know,
I heard it from Vicar Joe;
Who is known for his love of sticks …
Standing in the cold park
I heard the birds
Sing in early January.
I will hear them in spring.
And think I see
Cold birds.
Yet I know that the winter
Lives in me
And poets sing
Of what is true.
Whilst browsing a dodgy website
I encountered a young lady named White.
She came round to mine
And after much wine
I kissed that young lady good night …
I am dating a young lady from Gen Z
Who says that she is in love with me!
She calls me her honey
And thinks I have money.
So don’t tell her the truth about me …
K Morris - Poet 