I have sat on bar stools
As fools
Pontificate in love and hate.
From on high, I
Have judged women and men
Thinking myself superior to them
Yet in the quiet
Of morning time
I rhyme
Of imperfect man
And I who am
As them.
I am pleased to announce that my poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong, will be available to purchase from Amazon in Kindle and paperback in the next 4-6 weeks.
Book Description:
Shadows and Birdsong brings together poems that reflect on nature, memory, friendship, and the quiet passing of time. Moving through woodlands, graveyards and everyday rooms, Kevin Morris writes about the moments that stay with us and the ones that slip away.
The collection touches on ageing, loss, companionship, and the small details that shape a life: birds calling in the trees, the steady tick of a clock, the feel of rain, the presence of shadows. Some poems remember those who are gone; others simply observe the world as it is, with its mix of beauty and impermanence.
When I found a young man named Dave
Lying in a freshly dug grave,
And I said, “are you dead?”,
He said, “No! I am ted!”
I said, “No, you are most definitely Dave!”
Let us deconstruct all things
In this Postmodernist day.
All our elusions must fall
Away
And everything be analysed
Until our eyes
Can no longer see
Beyond this reductionist
Ideology
We role played.
Afterwards you stayed
And spoke of your childhood
Which, on the whole, was good.
Then you told me
Of a family friend’s knee …
But now you are at university
And all that was long ago,
And besides, you do not know
Whether it was really so.
And of course you are free
To say “no”
To me
It happened years ago
And I have no responsibility
For what he may
Or may not have done.
Its just fun
To engage in role play.
No harm is done
Or so we say
Sitting in just
My boxer shorts
In the cool of a summer morning,
I think on is and ought.
I touch
My own skin.
And think how thin
Is the veil
That separates me
From the eternity
Of dust
A man in a sweet shop chooses
From a menu online.
The sweets are divine
The website says
So no-one loses.
The candy arrives
In pretty bows
And wrapping
Fragile as flowers.
He knows
How it goes:
The tapping of heels
Bring deals
Of sugar sweet
He can’t keep,
While the website
Offers fleeting delights
Of fresh flowers
He takes,
But his thirst
Remains unslaked
I sit here
Drinking beer
Alone at home
In this dying heatwave
Unable to forget
What I could not save.
As I drink
I think
Of girls who padded like cats
Around my bachelor’s flat
In their bare feet.
We drank wine
And, sometimes
I would find
A kind
Of comfort in a stranger’s arms.
A few left charms behind.
A hairband
I kept in a drawer,
Though I saw her no more.
I returned hair extensions.
There was no pretention
Of love.
Drinking my beer
I look back on half wasted years.
There where tears and laughter
But what comes after …
Perhaps I can find
A sort of tenderness
Tinged with regret.
I can not forget
And sometimes wonder
What they remember
Of me
I know a young lady named Marr
Who works in a very rough bar.
I like to drink there
With a tough guy called Blair,
And we’re all terrified of Marr!
The thunder came
In the early morning.
I heard the heavy rain
And saw the lightning
Flash across the summer sky.
Alone at home
I thought of the old gods
Who will remain
When man can no longer see
The lightning
Nor hear Thor
Laugh
For he knows
Civilisations rise and fall
And men are fragile
As glass
In shop windows
Lighted at night
To display
What we know
Must pass away.
K Morris - Poet 