“Good morning stranger, I know you well”.
They greet
Under well worn sheet.
“There is no spell
To hold you here
Tis simply the sprinkle,
The familiar tinkle
Of worldly dust
That has thrust
We two together.
In stormy weather
Ships seek any port.
On a wave of need caught
They chance their luck
And sometimes buck”.
A confusion about socks.
A delusion over his and her’s.
“Mine” she said
As she sat upon his bed.
It is an easy mistake
To make,
To take
Something that you should not possess,
Be it an item of dress
Or a smile
Bought for a little while.
There was a man who suffered from introspection,
Which frequently led to dejection.
A surrealist, called Mark
Said “your future is dark,
As you are a mere computer projection”!
A burned child dreads the fire,
They say,
But, as day follows day,
We see that he
Grasps the hot coal
To his soul,
Again and again,
Despite the pain.
The coal burns
And the child turns
Away,
(Perhaps for a day)
Or so.
Yet back he will go,
To that place I know,
Truth to tell,
All too well.
There was a young lady named Coral
Who was extremely stern and moral.
She dated a man named Bill
Who asked “I wonder will …?”
It led to quite a quarrel!
Wires going into your head.
Are you dead
Or on life support?
Perhaps I aught
Not to intrude,
For it is rude
To stare.
But there,
To my surprise,
In front of my eyes
Is an actual cyborg,
Who does on technology gorge.
Pale ghosts.
Stale scent.
Notches in bedposts.
Copybook blotches.
Too many to remember.
May to December
It didn’t happen because
She was
A prude.
“I wasn’t rude”
he thinks
As he drinks
Bitter beer alone,
His hand itching for the telephone.
How long before they impale
Themselves on email
Or text?
How vexed
They would be
To hang from their own tree.
The goal stands undefended.
The keeper pretended
To watch, but slept.
Inevitably someone wept
As into the open goal, the ball crept
First speaker: “Is it romantic?”
Second speaker: “no,
Although,
Some hold it to be so.
It is a frantic dance
Where romance
Has little chance”.
First Speaker: “Are you friends
Of a kind?”
Second speaker: “I find
That there are schemes,
Means
To ends.
It all depends
On what you mean by friends …”.
First speaker: “Is there ever respect?”
Second speaker: “I can not reject
The idea that there is sometimes respect,
But some will never accept
That this is often the case
So after imagined nightmares chase”.
First speaker: “Is it cold?”
Second speaker: “Warm arms enfold
But gold
Is by it’s nature cold”.
K Morris - Poet 