Tag Archives: poets

If I Could Look Into Your Mind

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If I could look into your mind
And you into mine,
What would we find?

Will you pretend
That no friendships would end
And that our inner feelings
Would not leave one another reeling?

A smile
May just that be,
A smile
But all agree
That guile
May hide inside a smile.

Some maintain
That man will
Never fully understand the brain,
While still
Others maintain
That you will never find the mind
Within the brain.

I know not whether the mind
Is separate from the brain,
But I can not pretend
That many a friendship would not end
Where you and me
To be able to see
Into the mind
Or brain
Of our dearest friend

I Know A Talented Poet Named Purse

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I know a talented poet named Purse
Who has published a collection of verse.
Each page has no writing,
Which I find quite exciting,
As its fun to read blank verse . . .

Wednesday Morning Humour

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I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m extremely fond,
But when I suggested a date
She just couldn’t wait
To throw me in the pond!

—

I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m extremely fond.
Her name is Louise,
And being a tease
She pushed me in her pond!

—

I know a petite young blonde
Of whom I’m rather fond.
Her name is Louise
And a hive of bees
Nests in her hair dyed blonde!

—

A most saintly vicar named White
Patrols the streets at night,
Where he saves fallen women
From their life of sinning,
By taking them home at night . . .

I Sit in Quietude

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I sit in quietude
With no
Tech to intrude.
I know
The inanity
And vanity
Of all
This stuff.
Birds call
Yet most men hear not
For the white hot
Heat of technology beckons.
I count the cost
Of countless seconds
Lost
In this screen
Dream
Where you and I
Fly, but never see the sky.

On Going To Bed Last Night

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On going to bed last night
I met 2 young ladies in white.
When I gazed in surprise
They batted their eyes
And said, “do you have lodgings tonight . . .?”.

—

On going to bed last night
I met 2 young ladies in white.
When I gazed in surprise
They said, “we shall tell you no lies,
We are vampires who haunt the black night . . .”.

When A Man Whose Name is Grub

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When a man whose name is Grub
Recited his poems in my local pub,
And he fell drunk on the floor
I called out for more,
Although his verse I never understood!

A podcast of poet Kevin Morris’s appearance on Vancouver Co-op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series

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On the evening of Thursday 16 May, I was honoured to appear on Vancouver Co-op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series.

 

I am pleased to announce that a podcast of my interview (which includes me reading my poems) is now available and can be found here, http://worldpoetry.ca/?p=14391.

My interview starts approximately 3-4 minutes into the podcast and runs for around 25 minutes. I listened back to my interview using the Chrome Browser so know that Chrome works. I can not vouch for other browsers though.

My thanks to Ariadne and Victor of The World Poetry Reading Series for their kindness in hosting me.

Kevin