The sun comes and goes on a cold Autumn day
And I think on fun and how quickly it passeth away.
The flower that bloomed
Is soon entombed,
Or if it blooms still
A rill
Of tears
Marks it’s all too tender years.
Passing
4 Replies
Tag Archives: poets
Monster Poetry Writing Competition
Candy Korman, of Candy’s Monsters is running a poetry competition. The competition closes at the end of October. anyone interested in entering can either post their entry in the comments section or email Candy directly. All entries must have a monster theme. For details of the competition please see http://www.candysmonsters.com/poetry-me/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+CandysMonsters+%28Candy%27s+Monsters%29
There Was A Young Man Called Judd
There was a young man called Judd
Who married a girl called Rudd.
They where happy together
In all kinds of weather
And particularly relished the mudd!
Black Ice
2 Cars in search of a crash
Jump red lights
On nights,
When black ice
Holds the heart in a vice-like grip.
Girls trip
By
On heels to high
For walking.
Tongues are talking,
“They are prisoners of their own making”.
Much head shaking.
Vehicles collide and slide
Down the embankment towards the river of unmindfulness
Where those who drink
Into forgetfulness sink
And remember not
That it is their lot
To constantly pay
the ferryman Who carries their soul away.
It Catchs Up With You
It catches up with you, in the end,
Although its easy to pretend
That the late nights
And fights
With an unknown friend
Under the sheet
Will not defeat
Roistering youth.
The truth
Oft creeps
Up on a man as he sleeps.
Or when, on seeing nature’s beauty he weeps
Over something irredeemably lost,
And counts the cost for a while,
Then with a weary smile
Returns to the merry-go-round
Which will spin him round, and round and round
A Poem for National Poetry Day
It had slipped my mind
But now I find
That it is National Poetry Day.
Poets will make hay
Or not
Depending on whether they have lost the plot.
I have got
No plot at all
So will my readers stall
With words that writhe
As they strive
To go somewhere.
Shall I write about a pair.
A clever play on pair and pare?
I swear
That the pair
I have in mind
Is more divine
Than any wine
One will find
In vineyard
Where maidens pick the hard fruit.
How long shall I pontificate?
For it is getting late
And National Poetry Day
Will soon pass away
Have I anything to say
Or do I merely play
With a word
Absurd
Which, joined with another,
(All words are brothers)
Forms a sentence perhaps,
Or do I collapse
Into something, I know not what?
Indeed, I believe that I have lost the plot.
Happy National Poetry Day!
Happy National Poetry Day! (http://nationalpoetryday.co.uk/http://nationalpoetryday.co.uk/).
Facade
Outer beauty shows
And throws
Shadows of distraction.
The magnet feels an attraction
To steel
And is drawn to seal
Its destiny in unholy communion,
A union of empty clang
And bang.
The fine façade
Hides a hard
Truth.
The roof
Is rotten
And forgotten
Woodworm Has eaten through
The fine oak beams
Which, at first sight it seems
Should hold true.
The magnet will rue
The day it did settle
On metal
Base.
Yet to the beautiful face
It is drawn, As a fly
To the sty,
Where it will wallow
In hollow
Joys, then die.
Rain and Poets
The rain pours
As I read poets long past heeding applause.
Their words will continue to speak
For many a week.
While papers display
Pictures of prancing idiots who have nothing to say.
The celebrities are revered for a while.
Their style
Is all the rage
Until the papers engage
In character assassination.
It is the sport of the nation
To throw stones,
Yet bones are brittle
And journalists loyalties fickle.
Beware for people may find
Behind
Your rictus grin
Your own particular sin!
Poets anthologised stand
As beacons in this troubled land.
While half-dressed celebrities are here today.
They strut and threat
Then fade away.
Self
He met an elf
Intent on self.
Taking her down
From the shelf
He did forsake the straight path
And with a bitter laugh
In self
Man and elf
Drowned.
K Morris - Poet 