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Best Poems Written by Ed Morris

Below are the all-time best Ed Morris poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Maniac President's Song

(A parody of the Modern Major-General's Song from "The Pirates of Penzance" by Gilbert and Sullivan.)

I am the very model of a very stable genius.
Compared to mine all others’ ...brains... are positively weeny; yes,
My grasp of science, history, and law is astronomical.
No need to read; I go by feel! (It’s highly economical.)
My sober tweets would make a truly fine encyclopedia
For fighting lies of traitors in the damn elitist media.
It’s sad how badly haters hate and treat me like a meanie; yes,
And all because I am, in fact, a very stable genius.

I see the world in black and white; hooray for monochromacy!
It shows the unnecessity of nuance and diplomacy.
No matter what I do, my fans consider me adorable;
Their loyalty to how I roll is not the least deplorable.
A win like mine (I surely could have had a clear majority!)
By common wisdom should confer a little more authority.
In short, I envy autocrats like Kim and Mussolini; yes,
I am the very model of a very stable genius.

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One Night In a Haunted Manner

I missed a blind corner one grim stormy night,
On a dark forest road, with no phone.
The crash was severe, but what gave me more fright
Was I had to walk out all alone.

A mile, maybe two, and there loomed into view
An imposing stone manor, quite old.
I felt somewhat spooked, but I guessed it would do
For relief from the drizzle and cold.

Despite my loud knocking I heard no reply,
Though some embers from somewhere glowed red.
The door opened wide when I gave it a try,
And its groan somehow filled me with dread.

I crept toward the flickering warmth where I found
A mere wisp of a man in a chair,
So pale in appearance he hardly seemed sound—
Like a shadow that’s only half-there.

I saw he was napping and hadn’t a clue,
So decided to give him a tap,
But to my amazement, my fingers went through
His left arm and right down to his lap!

I gasped in sheer horror and rushed out the door,
Though I never before had believed
In spirits or hauntings or vampiric lore,
So I wondered if I’d been deceived.

This mystery troubled me long years ago,
But I now understand it: you see,
That car wreck I mentioned was fatal, and so...
The ghost wasn’t him; it was me.

---

Date Written: January 16, 2019
Contest: One Night in a Haunted Manor, sponsored by Tania Kitchin

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Einstein's Bent Lines

Though we hail Albert E.’s creativity
For his grand tour de force, relativity,
   It remains a tough climb
   To imagine space-time
With its axes not fixed but all pivoty.

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A Day In the Life of An Aspiring Villanelle Poet

This form repeats too much, I say.
It’s hard to write a villanelle—
I’ll try again some other day.

My rhyme begins without delay;
It’s going fine, then—what the hell?
This form repeats too much, I say.

Doggone it! This is not okay!
I’m under some nefarious spell.
I’ll try again some other day.

But no, I cannot stay away.
I breathe, then smell that same old smell:
This form repeats too much, I say.

I took the bait; I’ve fallen prey;
The crude result I cannot tell—
I’ll try again some other day.

And thus I end this odd ballet.
(I’ve really never danced too well.)
This form repeats too much, I say;
I’ll try again some other day.

Details | Ed Morris Poem

An American In Paris

When Toby removed to Paree
The people all called him Tobee.
   “That’s not me,” he’d plead,
   Then finally concede
To be, not to be not, Tobee.

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Abcde: Doctor, Leave Me Be

An apple a day, so they say,
But some folk get carried away.
   Consumer advice:
   Don’t be imprecise—
Eat ten, and the doctor you’ll pay.

---

Date Written: January 9, 2019
Contest: Limerick II, sponsored by Joseph May

Details | Ed Morris Poem

Our Spicy First Date

I still savor the thought of the zest that I caught
When you joined us that night after school.
Tara figured out why, since she’s so sage and sly;
She left early to show it was cool.

With her sis Tara-gon, Ginger sighed with a yawn,
“My, it’s late!” to clue in that nut-Meg.
“Would you look at the thyme!” came the reechoed chime,
With a wink from Corey-ander pal Peg.

Well, I felt like a god, though it seemed somewhat odd
That they all should jus’ curry, but hey,
When you gave me a smile as we two walked a while,
It dissolved my perplexed caraway.

In this teenagey bliss, I leaned in for a kiss,
Little knowing what I was against:
You demurred in a trice, “Though hot pepper is nice,
I insist that it’s parsley dispensed.”

With a panicky cast, I apologized fast
In my chili confusion and dread,
But I saw your eyes light, and we had a nice night
Holding hands at the cinnamon stead.

---

Credit where credit is due: I got the idea for this from Michael Wise's very original poem "A Spicy Story," posted here:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/a_spicy_story_1100057

Details | Ed Morris Poem

A Sonnet To Sadness

The ancient anguish of a hurting heart
Bequeaths no beauteous scene to me today.
It’s just a jagged chasm gashed apart,
A stream with boulders strewn in disarray.
Like rusted leaves that bleakly canvas fall
Or barren trees that bear the winter snow,
Its listlessness conceals a stonework wall
That bars the beggar from his bungalow.
A long-abandoned barn where pigeons flock
Beside three worn-out crosses marking graves,
It’s lonely as a lighthouse on a rock
Forever battered by the crashing waves.
Their ceaseless song may soothe a sleepless soul,
But how, I sigh, can sad be beautiful?

---

Date Written: January 3, 2019
Contest: Beautiful Sadness, sponsored by John Hamilton

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Puff the Poker Princess

She didn’t play poker so well.
Her bluff was as clear as a bell.
   Her insides would quaver
   So much that they gave her
A hell of a smell of a tell.

Details | Ed Morris Poem

Poet On a Date

A hopelessly poetic guy met
A scientist studying climate.
   Nearly all that she said
   Went right over his head,
But at least he was able to rhyme it.

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Date Written: January 3, 2019
Contest: Limericks, sponsored by Joseph May