I am not a huge fan of the pop group Madness. However there recently released song, “Mr Apples” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWUisvmZRiw) caught my attention. The song deals with hypocrisy as does my poem “The Hypocrite”, (https://newauthoronline.com/2015/07/26/the-hypocrite/). Madness’s song does, I think make the point with humour and (possibly) a touch of compassion for Mr Apples.
When you leave your shoes
You lose
Them for a while,
Yet there can be no denial
They will be found on the floor
Outside the front door, and you will smile,
Put them on
And be gone.
When you lose your jeans
There will be scenes,
But they will be discovered
On the ground where they lie.
I sigh
And idly speculate
Whether you learned to late
That some things can not be recovered.
Fools
Seek for ghouls
Under the bed.
And strain in fear
To hear
The tread
Of those long since dead.
The bogeyman’s cold hands
Commands
Terror on the part
Of those who are to blind
To find
The demon in their own heart.
Many thanks to Creative Dreamers for publishing my poem “Leaves”, as a guest post. For “Leaves” please visit, https://creativedreamers.wordpress.com/2016/09/14/leaves-by-kevin-morris/.
Be careful what you wish for. You might actually get it
—
No harm in wishing
But, if you go fishing
In deep pools
Where fools
Fish,
Then sooner or later you may attain your wish.
A dainty dish
Not meant for the tasting by such as you
Has led many a man to rue
Their wish
For forbidden fish.
The cat sat on a river bank
Desirous to catch a fish.
Stretching out his paws, he obtained his wish
But, leaning too far over, fell into the water and sank.
‘Tis better to stay on the river bank …
Hoping against hope
Is a slippery slope.
Will the phone ring
And bring
A temporary release,
A kind of peace?
Hope tenuous as fingers that on the cliff edge scrabble,
And a mouth dry as gravel.
Thoughts travel
Back:
A lack
Of control, Shown by a boy
With a shiny new toy.
The plaything once tried
The child cried
Out once more for the toy
That brought such joy,
But the bauble left
Leaving him bereft.
Should the phone not sound
No lesson profound
Will be learned
For the spurned
Boy
Will batten on a new toy.
When we go to the fair
All life is there.
One’s fortune may be told
For a piece of bright gold
By the crone
Who seeing the lone
Girl, the one with the wistful look in her eye
Looks into her crystal ball and does lie.
“I see
What will be.
A tall dark handsome stranger comes your way”
She may say.
Or looking into the tea leaves and seeing only damp dust,
Thinks “needs must”
And a smile
Does beguile
In a thirsty heart.
We all play our part.
The storeholder does grin
For he offers baubles to win.
We take
And perhaps, afterwards, rue our mistake.
The day has barely begun.
Yet the fair goers after pleasure run.
All must have their fun
While the sun
Is high
In the sky.
At night the rides are idle.
A black cat does sidle
Into the fortune teller’s tent.
A clatter
As the crystal ball does shatter
And dreams that where never meant
Are forever rent.
There was a young lady from Pretoria
Who wished to stay at New York’s Waldorf Astoria.
She went there by plane,
But imagine her pain
When she ended up in London Victoria!
There was a young man called Lee
Who owned a very large flea.
It bit a man most religious
Who was very litigious,
It was the strangest court case I ever did see!
I have updated the “About” page on newauthoronline.com to reflect the recent publication of my latest collection of poetry, “Refractions”. For details of “Refractions” and my other works, please visit HERE
For recent reviews of “Refractions” please visit https://libroliv.com/2016/09/01/refractions/
https://www.amazon.com/review/R2C5Y543GV780B/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01L5UC2H2
https://www.amazon.com/review/R369MURZIN01WP/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01L5UC2H2 and
https://www.amazon.co.uk/review/R1YT6QRD3VUNLR/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01L5UC2H2
K Morris - Poet 