Tag Archives: rhyming poetry

Nails

She drunk, showing me

Her nails I can not see.

I drink my brandy

And try my best to engage

With a girl half my age.

 

Its hard to explain

To her drunken brain

That I am unable to see.

So I sip my brandy

And imagine her fingernails

 

She left with her friend.

I can not pretend

That there was no attraction

At least on my part.

A passing distraction

Turns into art.

Red

When a young lady in red

Invited me to come to bed

I said, “dear Miss Moore!

This is a furniture store!

And the manager has turned red!”

Poetry Reading by Poet Kevin Morris on Saturday 8 November from 2-3 pm at Ashburton Library, Croydon

As previously mentioned here, I will be reading my poetry at Ashburton Library, Shirley Road, Croydon tomorrow, Saturday 8 November from 2-3 pm. Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. If you are in the vicinity it would be good to meet you.

 

Please feel free to just turn up. Or, if you wish to book please call 0207 8845175 or visit An Afternoon of Poetry with Kevin Morris | Croydon Libraries

Slower Time

Alexa plays

As my clock chimes

Reminding me of slower days.

When Father Time

Kept a steady pace.

 

 

Many have vanished without trace.

This rhyme

Will not save

Me from the grave

 

 

And if people should find

My poetry

It will not profit me.

 

 

Yet I must write

For the night

Will end all my poetry

Cerebral

A young lady who is really most cerebral

Said, “your poetry it is so very terrible!”

I said to her, Jane,

You have a great brain,

But your manners they are really most terrible!”

Her Umbrella

You left your umbrella behind

For me to find.

I remember, it had ducks.

I let you know.

But we did not go

Down that path again.

Still I remember the ducks

And she who came

To me in the rain.

 

Clocks and Flowers

I am wrapped around

In the profound

Silence of the morning.

No birds stir.

And my old clock’s

Steady tick tock

Goes unheard.

 

Earthly clocks measure hours.

But flowers

Know not time

Yet pervade

All our graves.

While we no not

Clocks and flowers.

 

My Poetry Reading on the World Poetry Cafe

On Thursday 23rd October, I appeared on the World Poetry Café. During the show, I read several of my own poems, including “On the Death of a Writer”, which appears in my most recent collection, “Passing Through; Some Thoughts on Life and Death”. In addition, I read Philip Larkin’s wonderful poem “Ambulances”.

 

My thanks to Ariadne, Anita and Victor for hosting me on the World Poetry Café. My segment begins approximately 21 minutes into the podcast. To listen please visit https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-oct-23-kevin-morris-and-anita-aguirre-nieveras/?utm_source=notification&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=upload_is_published&utm_content=html

Goth

When I met a beautiful young Goth

Who was suffering from a bad cough,

I felt such bliss

When we two kissed.

But that Goth gave me her cough!

 

 

Halloween Vampire

I met a vampire on Halloween

Who said, “why don’t you scream!”

I said to Lake,

“Pass me that stake”,

Which caused that vampire to scream!”