Robert Kelly

Poet – Robert Kelly

Robert Kelly (KELL) I am a 27 year old poet from West Belfast, I have been writing rhymes a few years and now some friends have told me give them up to a bigger audience. I was recommended this site, so I thought I would give it a go!!! I don’t think i really have a style i just write about what i think, I do try to be trival, I try to forge meanings into poems.

Poems:

ROLLERCOASTER

Lifes a fucking rollercoaster,
A constant stream of ups and downs,
You think you’ve nailed it the show is over,
And then it flips you upside down, you try to get your head intact get your feet on steady ground,
Then like a swift kick to the fucking back your dragged into another round,
At times u really like it,
It’s a stunning view from way up here,
Then with a cunning move it twists and turns,
And fills your every thought with fear,as it softly steers the laughs and cheers,
As u glide over the water that’s beneath,
Then a crafty turn its now screams u hear,
As sudden darkness causes grief,
A steep ride takes u upwards,
U think this it I’m at the top,
Then your hurtled forward,
Your senses slapped,
Trapped in a vertical drop,
It will stop,
Because just like life the rollercoaster must come to an end………….
But to know u rid the bastard should make u proud enough my friend!

YOUNG MEN

I watch these young men march towards there destination,
Blue bags in hand to cure the parch of their fascination,
There Not even past my gates when,
My neighbour looses his patients,
But I remember an age when I was making a statement!
My mind starts racing,
Evasive memories start to align,
I see myself in that crowd clutching a blue bag with such pride,
I would stride,
Threw these streets,
A place where crime resides and
Life is cheap,
These young men are troops a ruthless fleet,
But it’s only because they know the rules are weak!
I know there is no tool could tweak them,
These crews are to tight,
Under the influence there stewing for fights,
Vandalising there island,
High as kites,
The blaze alight on weekend nights,
Wrong or right?
Should I say?
Should I direct them on a more respectable way,
Or am I detecting pity for what my past portrays?
I wouldn’t of listened,
So why to fuck should they!

A PRECIOUS WAR

They say that love is a precious thing,
But I believe that not,
Because hugs and kisses don’t last that long and there easily forgot,
The emotional well runs deep,
But then it drys and smiles turn to frowns,
Hugs aren’t as tight as they used to be,
Heads start bowing down,
But still we carry on like this,
Why can’t it just be left,
Why do I care of hurting you,
When pain is with what I’m blessed,
We’ve tried my dear and it has not worked,
Don’t fear the future for the presents worse,
And whatever our decisions,
The coming times will hurt,
So lift your head and banish the thoughts,
That love is a whirlwind in which were caught,
Because love is just a war……
A war in which we have already fought!

THE SANDS OF TIME

I sit bemused as the sands of time,
Run threw the hour glass and confuse my mind,
As each grain drops my thoughts rewind,
And travel down my long life line,
The thoughts of bad deeds,
The memoirs of crime,
The hurt, the pain,
The rot and decay,
The anger I feel for how I lost my way,
Burns in my guts each minute of each day,
But I can’t stop the hands or chimes,
The clock moves on,
I must accept my crimes,
Although there are debts I wish to repay,
I can’t undo the sands of time!

I throw the hourglass against the wall,
It smashes, the sands scatter and fall,
My eyelashes join,
My heart dissolves,
Why can’t I find the courage to part from my flaws,
Time moves on I must evolve,
I must escape these horrid halls,
Grow balls,
Leave at my own accord ,
Dispatch my past open my wings and soar.
I roar as my hand brushes over the sands,
The broken glass cuts me but there is no pain to be had,
For its only inside the agony I feel,
But time moves on……
And my friend so must we!

With the sands of time I must come to terms,
They stop for none and that rule is firm,
Like a river that flows it will never return,
The sands of time are cruel and stern,
I shall live my present,
My past will burn,
My futures an abyss from which I wish to learn,
Now each step I take I do confirm,
Whether it’s right or wrong or should I dare,
And by all those here I solemnly swear,
To banish my fear and truly care,
Now my friends I have come to terms……..
The sands of time are stern but fair!

A SHIP THAT’S SAILED

From my head the sweat rolls,
From my hands the blood drips,
From the sky’s the rain piss,
All aboard on my ship,

At Dawn we set sail,
On this vessel I made,
My minds only settled,
Once the high shores are sailed,

The crush of the waves,
As the thunder cracks,
The rush of lightening returns to black,

The craft I made floats side to side,
It’s no match for this wicked tide,
No horizon for miles and miles,
I’m lost at sea on this rigid ride,

My ship gets flipped I’m overboard,
My cloths get heavy my bones get sore,
I’ve swam to far and can no more,
My last breaths left,
Swept up on the shore,

My body lies wet and cold,
This risky ride is a story told,

“my mind was the sea that my body sailed,
And my body was the ship and it’s very sails,
My mind had me do things I could not control,
And just like the ship my body rolled,
My mind swallowed it up just like the sea,
And now I’m powerless on this chair in physciatric ward c,”

A HAUNTING TREND

The one thing in life that makes my blood run chilled,
Is the fact that in this art we have become skilled,
We have learned all it’s ways and meanings,
Mastered all it’s drills,
Even swayed towards believing,
It’s the end of all our ills,
Both men and women, young and old,
There hearts are loosing will,
How when once brimming,
Have they overflowed?
When comes the start of the thoughts to kill?

People say there is a specific reason,
I think that might be wrong,
Why commit such self treason,
Because one beats missing from your song,
They say it’s the drugs that force it,
Along with the effects they have on the mind,
But to the simple pressures of society,
You all act so fucking blind,
Life’s unfair and it’s not kind,
And has a lot of harshness to its ways,
It does not care what we find,
Or what part we have come to play,

Maybe we will never understand unless we walk that path with our own feet,
But it’s easy to see we are the helping hand,
That our brothers and sisters need,
Its true they feel unwanted and as if there before an incapable feat,
It’s up to us to prove we can surpass it,
Together it can be beat!
Together we can bring this horrible culture to its knees,
And stop this vulture of depression picking our souls like rotten meat,
Defeat is not an option,
We can no longer run and hide,
This evil deed needs stopping,
The haunting trend of suicide!

THE CONDUCTOR

My heart composes the sounds, my mind lays them out and then conducts,
My hands wave the batons like wands,
And like magic, music is struck!
Sometimes it is ruthless and ruff,
Sometimes it is rootless and fucked,
But most of the time when I combine these chimes,
What I hear is beautiful stuff,
A symphony is my life story,
A complex tune with highs and lows,
Fear has brass instruments come crashing down,
Eagerness sets the drums out on a roll,
I feel bold and brave when the guitars strings are struck,
I feel safe when the mighty horn has been sound,
And the sweet whistle from the flutes help to lift me up when down,
The tambourine is for dancing feet,
The xylophone helps them potter along,
But what ever my inner orchestra decides to play………
I’m the one conducting the song!