Tag Archives: poets

Stream of Consciousness

An interesting post, on the site Interesting Literature, regarding “Stream of Consciousness”. The article defines “Stream of Consciousness” as follows:

“Put simply, ‘stream of consciousness’ describes a literary style in which the various thoughts and impressions of a character are relayed
to us in a way that captures the suddenness, spontaneity, and often inconsequentiality of those thoughts and impressions. Usually, the syntax will reflect
this, and it will either break down into fragmentation or, in some extreme cases, punctuation will be largely absent”. (See https://interestingliterature.com/2020/02/what-is-stream-of-consciousness-introduction/).

The author traces the origin of “Stream of Consciousness” from 19th-century psychology and philosophy, through to the 20th-century author James Joyce’s “Ulysses”.

Back in 2016, I composed “Composed Mor or Less in Realtime While Sitting in a Liverpool Garden”. At the time of composition, I thought of my poem as being (in part at least) a “Stream of Consciousness” composition. However, having read the above article on Interesting Literature, I think that it is, perhaps better described as an “Interior Monalogue”, rather than as a “Stream of Consciousness” piece of writing. To read my poem please follow this link, https://kmorrispoet.com/2016/05/30/composed-more-or-less-in-realtime-while-sitting-in-a-garden/.

When A Young Lady Named White

When a young lady named White
Knocked at my door after midnight,
And said, with a grin,
“May I please come in?”,
I wished that girl good night.

When A Young Lady Named Hannah

When a young lady named Hannah
Said, “I really don’t like your manner!
You are extremely rude!
And so incredibly crude!
I said, “but you designed this banner!”.

Whilst Staggering Home Drunk One Night

Whilst staggering home drunk one night
I saw a ghoul dressed in white,
Who said, “my name is Dave
And I’ve risen from yonder grave.
I said, “do you have a light?”.

When A Young Lady Named Beth

When a young lady named Beth
Said, “you are obsessed with death”,
I spoke of cooking oil
And of Shakespeare’s mortal coil,
Which bored poor Beth to death!