I sit in quietude
With no
Tech to intrude.
I know
The inanity
And vanity
Of all
This stuff.
Birds call
Yet most men hear not
For the white hot
Heat of technology beckons.
I count the cost
Of countless seconds
Lost
In this screen
Dream
Where you and I
Fly, but never see the sky.
On going to bed last night
I met 2 young ladies in white.
When I gazed in surprise
They batted their eyes
And said, “do you have lodgings tonight . . .?”.
—
On going to bed last night
I met 2 young ladies in white.
When I gazed in surprise
They said, “we shall tell you no lies,
We are vampires who haunt the black night . . .”.
I have uploaded the following 7 poems to Soundcloud:
The poet took 2 roses
At the same time
And knew
That he ought to find
Them divine,
But it wasn’t true,
So now he composes
A puzzle about roses,
For rhyme is pure.
I know a newspaper hack
Who goes by the name of Jack.
He wrote a story about me
And an erotic dancer called Leigh,
I swear I’ll pay him back!
When a man whose name is Grub
Recited his poems in my local pub,
And he fell drunk on the floor
I called out for more,
Although his verse I never understood!
Karl Marx discussed factors of production
With his maid
Who, no longer staid
Learned about equality,
The seduction
Of maid
By master
And what it is
To be free.
There was a young man named Frank
Who, on being ordered to walk the plank
Said, “I am washing my hair
And there is deep water down there!
So I’d rather not walk the plank!”.
—
There was a young man named Frank
Who, on being ordered to walk the plank
Said, “I shall obey your command,
But we are on dry land,
So what is the point of the plank?”
I know a young barmaid named Page
With whom I try to engage.
But when I ask her to dance
She says, “you have no chance,
As your bar bill you haven’t paid!”.
—
I know a young actress named Page
With whom I tried to engage.
But when I asked her to dance
She said, “you have no chance,
Then she threw me off the stage!”.
There was a young lady named Lizzie
Who was always so terribly busy.
Well that’s what she said,
But she was often in bed,
That mendacious young lady named Lizzie!
K Morris - Poet 