Jupiter in the 21st Century
Traveling without wheels
on a morning with Mozart.
En route to meet St. Jane of Grape street,
Symphony #41 in C major
begins just beyond Rita's house.
A walking meditation
performed on aching feet.
When traveling without wheels
ignored rhythms become ghostly memory
faceted by sensory recall.
Time seemingly stands still,
grounded by a gentle spring snow fall,
resurrecting the tulips.
They rise to the occasion enthusiastically
in the neglected gardens of foreclosed homes
where the columbines have returned to the wild
and the neighbor's dog has left his mark.
I miss my car.
Not far away,
in the fast lane,
the new world order has arrived
heralded by many twittering voices
echoing talking head sound bytes.
Suspiciously green busses lurch to a stop
inhaling and exhaling passengers,
then lurch forward farting eco-friendly fumes.
Cars school along asphalt paths
transporting passengers with no sense of purpose
Story Time“Tell me a beautiful story.”Story Time2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
© L. L. Kelly 2013
Wind In the breath of trees,Wind 7 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
tales of lands long forgotten,
the four winds whisper.
©L. L. Kelly 2015
Thoughts of a Celestial Body Inch by inchThoughts of a Celestial Body 7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
each year I am leaving, letting go
of this variable orbit.
Space is infinitely strange,
dangerous, cold and lonely.
Constellations hold no place for love.
Attraction is merely physics, inconsistent gravity.
Still, there is the dream.
Inch by inch, each year I am letting go.
©L. L. Kelly 2014
Two Shadows What did Izumi know, centuries agoTwo Shadows 6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the rain, of this surreal life?
Between worlds we step.
tangled in imagery.
Between worlds we wander.
Her rain-voice murmurs,
“All things change, at once remaining.”
Between worlds, we linger.
No need to explain the rain.
My sleeves are tear soaked,
© L. L. Kelly 2011 revised 2015
The Vulnerable OnesLittle lies.The Vulnerable Ones1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
©L. L. Kelly 2014
Childhood Thoughts...AlwaysChildhood Thoughts...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where's Your Self-Esteem?"I'm a mess."Where's Your Self-Esteem?2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"A beautiful mess."
For ScienceBrought toaster to bathtub.For Science1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A Galaxy SighsShe exhales sky from her lungs.A Galaxy Sighs2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
satoriMy shadow leadingsatori2 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Down a moonlit mountain path
I have lost the way
© L. L. Kelly 2015
'Till Death Do Us PartWhen you died, you killed me.'Till Death Do Us Part2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Paradigm ShiftEmerging flash of starlight papParadigm Shift1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
between sunset and ocean cap
colliding spang into my eyes
for once to have me realize
not everything becomes a song,
and I shall sleep before too long.
But Leave Echoes BehindDream in color, live in grey.But Leave Echoes Behind1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Heart's ApocalypseYour lips on my lips-Heart's Apocalypse9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Writer's BlockToo Many Questions.Writer's Block3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Not Enough Answers.
.she'll hold him tight tonight.8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and dread the coming mo(u)rning
Artists on Writers - No. 3, Pablo NerudaArtists on Writers - No. 3, Pablo Neruda2 years ago in Art Features More Like This
Issue No. 3|Archives
Poet of Lovers & Rebels, Poet of Dreamersby MARX77
As is the case with all artists, poets too are greatly influenced by the world around them and how they perceive it.
The splendor of the heavens above, the dynamics of the earth beneath their feet. The uncertainty of life, the inevitability of death. But more importantly, a poet's inspiration comes from what they carry within themselves; their memories, relationships, their dreams, joy and grief. Verses borne of turmoil and tragedy decades ago continue to resonate to this day and are as relevant now as they were back then. Truly poetry is an art form for the ages!
Among the few greats still spearheading the world of literature today, long after they themselves have pass
PassingDistant and out to sea, the loneliest sound I’ve ever heard - the call of gulls – drifts on the gray of early morning. As if in a dream, I walk the dunes, between foam-kissed shorelines and misted hillocks covered with swaying sea grass grown tall, that leans away as the breath of incoming waves approaches, and fades back as they exhale.Passing9 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Dark hair in my eyes, I look up the wandering coast and make out the figure of a young woman who is also walking, barefoot and solo, while the onshore breezes push the straw hair from her brow, her pale eyes peering with interest as we draw near, her mouth softening with acceptance. Then, passing each other, we both keep turning every few steps to watch the other walking further away. The sand starts to swallow my feet as I slowly make my way toward the shallows.
bending at tide pool’s edge
the crabs startle
as I see into her grave
Will I also returnI was young as spring,Will I also return9 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
and held to autumn's wind
in the highest branches,
before crows hollowed them
autumn flurries return
with the scent of fallen fruit,
shelter for next spring
AsphodelA beckoning:Asphodel2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
watercolour sky shrinking,
too late, teeth fall; pearls
from a broken string.
Blink and the moon ignites—
but the sheets are still