Walking the old familiar track.
There is no turning back.
I lack
The will
To drill
Down and discover
What lies under cover.
It is not buried deep
For when I sleep
Memories creep
Out
And demons shout
In my ear.
It is always near
The old familiar fear.
mocking laughter
echoing down the years.
This post (http://aopinionatedman.com/2015/12/09/copyright-online-theft-and-blogging/) prompted me to post a Copyright Notice (http://newauthoronline.com/copyright-notice/) on this site. I had fully intended to add such a notice for some considerable time. I had, however not got round to doing so until today.
Wordpress offers a re-blogging function, allowing the sharing of a small part of posts, with readers being directed to the original source. I welcome re-blogs and am grateful to everyone who takes the time to share my work in this way. Consequently the above Notice should not be taken as a prohibition on re-blogging. The Notice is intended to prevent the taking of content by a minority of individuals and the passing off of such content as their own work. I hope that the Notice will protect my work and that of those who have honoured me by guest posting on newauthoronline.com.
Kevin
I am very happy to consider guest posts. If you are interested in guest posting please visit the following link for details, http://newauthoronline.com/guest-post-submissions/.
Kevin
It is to warm for December.
I remember
other years
When tears
Would freeze
And an icey breze
froze
the stinging nose.
No need for winter clothes.
The weather grows
Strange.
Something is deranged.
All, all is changed.
We duck and dive
trying to survive
let alone thrive
in this world of plastic
where truth is elastic
and love can be bought and sold
for cold hard gold.
Attachment is a fad
and we are oft times glad
when lovers go
for intimacy brings woe.
We hide in our bubble
with no one to cuddle
save for the pillow at night.
There is no delight
or perhaps somewhere
there are those who care.
‘Tis long since over.
We are know longer in clover.
In truth we never where.
I stare
At the screen.
The dream
Is gone
And life moves on.
A cold fire burns.
She turns
And looks.
She struts
Her stuff.
Her desire for cash
His decision rash.
Two souls zooming out of control
Down the primrose path
To hell.
All appears well
Then, smash!
“The world is a bleak place” I said.
You took me into your bed
kissing away
The words I did say
and strange to tell
All did seem well.
Why do I write
oft long into the night?
Is it for pure delight
at the craft
or am I daft?
I hear my clock’s chime.
Time
crouches near.
The year
is drawing to it’s close.
The writer knows
that words live on
long after he is gone,
so strives to leave a mark
on this world stark.
A light that glimmers
in the dark
Illumining the human heart.
(Upper Norwood, 27 November 2015).
Do you think of me
As you stare at a tree?
Beauty makes us free
If we can see
Beyond the tree.
K Morris - Poet 