Lonleness kills,
Seeks solace in thrills.
Emotions shut down,
A crisis profound,
Seed spills on stoney ground
Stoney Ground
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Tag Archives: reading
Windy Park
The wind blows through the park,
My mood is bleak and dark.
Teenage voices glad,
What hope do they have?
In a world gone mad,
Should not one be sad?
The weather speaks to me,
Why can not man be free,
Flying with the breeze,
Amongst the dancing trees.
Acrobatics
Familiarity makes the unbearable so-so.
Music from a phone playing.
Exploring hands.
Acrobatics in the bedroom.
The brook, once babbling is choked with weeds.
Diseased trees.
Fat brown paper envelope.
Shopping is the new religion.
The hypocrite
You choke on your cornflakes over stories of vicars and hoares,
And when the death sentence is imposed you give loud applause.
When they call for moral regeneration your first in the queue,
Oh my friend what if they knew what you do.
Behind closed doors the lamplight is low,
To the girl, barely legal, you are “Mr So and So”.
When the deed’s done homewards you go,
To the wife, and the kids – fine, upstanding Mr So and So.
Dolls
He collected dolls both black and white.
Twas his pain and his delight,
To hold them tight at night.
Few words where said,
As they lay upon his bed
With eyes cold and dead.
He touched their skin so real,
Though love they could not feel.
One doll his heart did steal,
But her passion was unreal.
His soul it turned to steel,
No longer could he feel.
Summer Rose
Doors close on innocence that knows
A girl in her short summer dress.
Does she suspect?
A budding rose.
Men traverse long dark roads
In Praise Of Microsoft Word
Oh Microsoft I love you.
I love the way you say in tones sweet
“document 1. Microsoft Word is not responding”.
I relish the opportunity you furnish for me to drink my tea while you hang with such grace and poise.
For the chance to eat my cereal while you continue to stick obstinately I give thanks.
I was in need of a shower so thanks, once more for affording me the opportunity to wash and dress as you continue to hang.
Thank you dear Microsoft for, finally allowing me to complete my poem which runs to an entire 4 lines.
Yours ever so gratefully,
A Humble Computer User.
(The above was written in response to the difficulties experienced while writing my poem, “Epitaph On A Poet” which appeared on this blog earlier today).
Epitaph On A Poet
A book of poems upon his grave
Could not the poet save.
The few his words touched
Failed to keep him from the dust.
How To Read A Novel In 25 Minutes And Remember All The Plot
If one is interested in record breaking, I can see the point of the below exercise. However if the aim is to truly comprehend and, dare one say it, actually enjoy reading, then reading a book in 25 minutes becomes a wholly sterile occupation, (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/books/article-3168948/How-read-novel-25-minutes-remember-plot.html).
Kevin
The Whispering Wind
The wind she whispered in the trees.
Her voice I heard, but did not heed.
Now my sorrow is sighing with the breeze.
K Morris - Poet 