|
Viewing 28 - 36 out of 63 Blogs.
| Page:
|
|
|
4 |
|
|
|
NO VALENTINE No valentine again this year No table set for two No candles set to light tonight Just sweet memories of you No present wrapped with ribbons No roses red and new No chocolates and no laughter But sweet memories I once knew No music in the background No hand that I can hold No words to say I love you Only memories etched in gold No champagne fizz and sparkle No lips that I can kiss No dancing in the shadows Just sweet memories that I miss peter Kelly copyright 2011
COLLECTION 13 SHORT POEMS The fat cats of power Slept safe and sound Under the same moon As soldiers stood guard In a land that wasn’t theirs ……………………………………. Under the hot summer sun she ran down To where the waves touched the sand Turning and smiling before she entered the water He knew then – as he always had – she was the one ………………………………………………… As the polar ice caps melted Their secrets were washed away But only some would be saved In Neptune’s book of poetry …………………………………………… The stars searched for a needle To stitch the mistakes of history As the blood streaked globe of earth Continued revolving around a blazing sun …………………………………………. A lingering sun waited to say goodbye Whilst the moon carrying a casket of dead stars Marched slowly over the snow bound peaks And night stalkers melted into the shadows ……………………………………………. Frenzied insects sacrificed their lives In the flames of a thousand candles Burning in the hearts and windows Of those waiting for loved ones Missing in the salted windmills of the oceans ………………………………………………. A brutalizing golden dawn Burnt away the shelters of shadow And a desert raven scanned the earth For darting sand lizards escaping meltdown ………………………………………………. To a background of forked lightening A chaste statue stands fragmented Whilst hope searches for love In the concrete jungle of uncertainties …………………………………………..* peter Kelly copyright 2013
CHRISTMAS and nine days to go !! The star has fallen off the tree The dog thinks it’s a bone They have gone to do more shopping And left me home alone I may have to have a sherry Now I’ve written all the cards Or maybe something stronger I deserve my just rewards I’ve opened up some chocolates And there’s nine days left to go The way that things are going I will have to spend more dough So I’ll have another vodka To ease this Christmas stress And put the star back on the tree Although it looks a mess The turkey’s in the bread bin The dog has gone to bed The vodka keeps on flowing And there’s tinsel on my head So I’m blaming it on Boomers And the early Christmas start I’m going to need your full support Before Christmas can depart Copyright belongs to Smirnoff
peter Kelly
THE DREAM CATCHER Darkness nurses the myriad of dreams Waiting to take flight at the break of dawn Dreams of yesterday, dreams of tomorrow Soft smoky dreams of places far away Others of best forgotten times long past Hard wanton dreams of blood and steel And dreams of rolling green fields Wrapped in the scent of a spring morning Cloud shrouded dreams of mountaintops Caressed by misted cool breezes Or dreams of the silky moonlight Wrapped about the night like stark lace Passionate dreams of love and laughter Left flying in the swirling winds of time And others left trapped in dream catchers Never to be free to dance to the music Dreams of future hopes and loves And never to be lived wild fantasies Then what of dreams within a dream With nowhere to run to and no place to hide Taking shelter as the first rays of sunshine Creep silently onto a new day’s horizon For they all live in our in between times Replenishing hope, love and broken hearts peter Kelly © copyright 2014
WILL
Will an eagle take my soul tonight and cast it in the sky Will Angels take my heart away and make the heavens cry
Will spirits take me by the hand and lose me in the mist Will fairies take away my lips no more shall they be kissed
Will my true love release me from her tender loving care Will ghosts and goblins look at me as if I wasn’t there
Will the Sandman bring me back again and lay me down to sleep Will I awake alone once more no one to hear me weep.
Peter Kelly copyright May 2014
THE WAR TO END ALL WARS Over the top boys and never ask why Over the top boys it’s our turn to die Over the top boys the generals know best They’ve read it in books and taken a test Over the top boys, fix bayonets and run Wait for the bullets from their machine gun Over the top boys to fall in the mud Shouting and screaming feeling the blood Over the top boys we’re ordered again Only half of us left the others lay slain Over the top boys our graves they await Little white crosses, next plot to a mate Ten million crosses where poppies did bloom Over the top boys and back to the womb This is the war boys to end all the wars And the people believed the political whores Over the top boys – but there’s none left to go Let the mud rest and settle, so poppies may grow. peter Kelly © copyright 2014
COLLECTION 12 SHORT POEMS Fireflies lit up the darkened sky As the moon was swallowed by the devil And the spirits of Africa watched Whilst broken dreams melted into tears ………………………………………… Backs wet with evening dew Two lovers lay watching the stars And the moon looked down and smiled As love floated on shimmering waters ……………………………………….. Stars were left frightened and bewildered When the silver lining from a black moon Broke open the shell of hibernation And the suns shadows danced in the clouds ………………………………………. A writer of rhyme harvested dreams As he used the clouds as blankets And the stars held mankind’s hands Freeing them from shackles of expectations …………………………………………….. The ever present ink of war spilt In deep rivulets of black blood And the poet wearing a suit of thorns Sought shelter from watching dragons ……………………………………………. Sunset standing on one leg Watched black roses float on goats milk Whilst the moon sat in a waiting room In an emerald green silence ……………………………………………….. A brutalizing tangerine dawn Echoed the silvery fluted cry Of a sleepless full moon As the poet wrote on black marble ………………………………………………. Blood on the ornamental sword of time Dripped into the chaste river of history Whilst ghost soldiers marched silently With forgotten dreams tied to open wounds ………………………………………….. peter Kelly copyright 2013 
THE RED BICYCLE I waited – she was late But then, she always was Suddenly there she was pedaling Toward me on her red bike Strands of gleaming black hair Lashing her shoulders like bull whips Spurring her on as she drove the pedals With the easy grace of a trained model A bulging leather tasseled bag Swinging from her shoulder Like a crazed rag doll Her jeans looked as though They had been sprayed on In contrast to her sloppy T-shirt A size too large and cut Dangerously low under the arms Her demeanor – as always was one Of arrogant self assurance tinted with Large chunks of sexual provocation She allowed the bicycle Wheels still spinning, to fall Abandoned to the grassy bank Lips were fiercely met Whilst arms entwined my neck Leaning back she sighed Mumbling something I didn’t hear As our eyes locked together I knew then – but I had always known Since she first smiled at me I loved her – I always would. peter Kelly copyright 2012
COLLECTION 11 SHORT POEMS The moon watched with pleasure Whilst a thousand stars smiled As they witnessed her first kiss And her heart swam through chocolate moments ……………………………………………. The sun hiding on the horizon Watched the entire world of dreams vanish And stars ended their splashing sparkle On endless silvery grains of sand ……………………………………………. A cuckoo flew away with his heart Placing it in the nest of a raven But unable to hatch for lack of love And still beating to the tune of a green eyed monster …………………………………………….. Waiting for the moon to rise A poet lost in a cold sheared landscape Became a frozen embryo of wordage And the goddess of rhyme broke the circle ………………………………………………… Broken hearts hiding in the shadows Waited for the moonbeam train Destination the town of second chances Balancing at the edge of the universe ………………………………………. A lonely figure walked into the stars Beyond the crystal lake of the lotus Tracking the path of a lost dinosaur Into a blackened universe with a blotted out history ……………………………………………. A patrolling moon angel Found the crying figure in the shadows And sent a moonbeam to hug the girl’s heart Holding it safe for its next experience of love …………………………………………… A summer storm of sensuality Lifted the calculated sugary hopes Of those dreaming with their eyes open As the past plunged over the edge …………………………………………… Peter Kelly copyright 2013
| Page:
|
|
|
4 |
|
|
|
|