Ships slide
And collide
At night when the tide
Is high.
I
Have been left high
And dry
When the tide is gone.
Ships sail on
And I will find sport
At a different port
And ride
The tide
Again
Though it cause me pain.
In weather hot
Girls in heels trot.
As legs catch the sun
Men dream of fun.
What time have I got?
I know not.
Riding a mare
To nowhere.
The pace is fast
And he
Will Spill
Into the vast
Gulf she
Can not fill.
But the run
Was fun
Was it not?
And he will trot
Again,
Though his heart says “beware
For the mare
Can not take away your pain.
The wise can see
That she
Is as thee”.
I have no experience of this course. It does, however sound interesting and its free, https://josephinecorcoran.org/2018/05/29/how-to-make-a-poem-free-online-course/
A single flower on a cacti
I thought dead. Should I toil
In barren soil
For hope? Yet there is that flower
To brighten this dull hour
Of shower
And thunder.
The wonder
Of existence,
The persistence
Against all odds
In sods
I thought sterile.
On my window ledge
On the edge
Of rebirth
From seeming barren turf
My cacti
Teters and I
Recall how, only yesterday,
I was on the point of throwing it away.
Some men collect metaphors,
Others a girl’s stiletto
(some literally so).
Some collect doors
That open onto corridors,
And girl’s faces (so romantic by starlight)
For the night
Is full of metaphor.
Some collect stamps
Under street lamps
But the stamps
Are ultimately the same
For they all play the game
Of metaphor
I long
For the busty blonde,
And yearn for the slim brunette.
What point in regret?
When both black and white
Provide such sweet delight
And the night is short
And those who do as they ought
Find that time’s chariot can not be caught?
The lightning flashes across the sky
And I
Hear the roar
Of Thor.
Its just passed midnight and from my window
I am reluctant to go
For I know
That although
The roar
Of Thor
Will be heard once more,
That this show
Of an evening late
Which I spectate
May survive
For a time
In rhyme
Twas such bliss
Her kiss
So sweet and soft
As we lay
In the hayloft.
Then the devil coughed
And I heard him say
“Apologies, I have terrible hay fever today …”.
Emma Lee has written a helpful post on producing a collection of poetry. Emma discusses the advantages and disadvantages of publishing a collection dealing with one theme VS producing a book containing a variety of themes.
Emma’s post caused me to ponder on my own writing and, in particular my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”. The title of the book brings to mind both clocks and time more generally and there are, indeed a number of poems which deal with this subject matter. There are, however also poems which touch upon a variety of other issues, for example “Crack” which deals with addiction to hard drugs and “Count Dracula Went Out To Dine” (a poem of a more humorous nature). I deliberately chose to include poems on a multiplicity of themes on the basis that “variety is the spice of life”. I enjoy reading collections which cover various subjects and wishing to offer my readers the kind of collection that appeals to me, I took the decision to include a mixture of poems thereby (I hope) enhancing the enjoyment of my readers and avoiding the risk of being pigeonholed as the poet who only writes about time.
You can find Emma Lee’s post here, https://emmalee1.wordpress.com/2018/05/23/working-towards-a-collection-of-poems/.
“My Old Clock I Wind” is available from Moyhill Publishing and can be found here, http://moyhill.com/clock/. It is also available in the Amazon Kindle store, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0735JBVBG
K Morris - Poet 