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I have that Spark – Poem


fire

I have that Spark – Poem

Whatever the weather, whether I wither or whether I’m sempiternal,

Fired-up and eternal,

I’m a spirally turning as an inferno tornado,

These drugs had me tied-up,

Now I rise up as a periscope to show the way home,

I have some revenge to cash-in by the pay-load,

You’re not saving this damned kid,

This demon is going to flay his soul,

Stealing the meaning of his life, Hey-Ho!

All of my words have been censored gold,

I’m pulling this world apart as a centre-fold,

There’s no end to my road,

So there’s no sending me home,

I’m living in the darkness of a Hell’s hole,

And it’s impenetrable,

A mission impossible from this psychiatric hospital,

I’m breaking out, I bet you all!

This pencil bestows thunder in my hands,

We’re all crazy here!

I’m Alice in Wonderland,

My colours blur to overstate what’s over here,

I’m passing you it with an underhand.

This is all one man’s mad mind,

Run while you can still hide,

Love while you still have,

Because I’m taking all you hold in your hearts,

Charting towards the cold water with sharks,

Don’t bank on me coming back as me,

Because I’m blowing your homes down with gasoline,

As I have the spark.

 

Creative Writer Alexander Kennedy.

And just a heads-up me and my girlfriend are having a baby boy! So Happy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Why Mental-Illness Can Save Someone’s Life


We're all a little insane

Why Mental Illness Can save Someone’s Life

So I’m crazy. The doctors drilled it into me, mom and dad wept for me, brothers and sisters didn’t pick on me and friends stayed clear of me. Can you blame them? But we’re all a little crazy, the world is one big mental asylum and all the countries are personal padded cells for all nationalities. But in this day and age, broken is the new fixed.

And for me as a warped minded writer, this gives me a certain advantage over other scribblers out there. Yes, they have fancy educations. Yes, they have big bank accounts. Yes, their daddies know the right people and connections. But no, they do not have a genuine gift as I do. Yes, I am poverty ridden, broke to pockets seams. I failed high school, except for English. This is where I triumph.

I do remember heading to school once; my feet sprawled out on the top deck of the double-decker bus. I was having major headache recently, but I hide it well because I had no one to complain too. I was still a geeky teen in high school. My bus stop was coming up and I stood and shaking I walked down the bus aisle. As I reached the stairs blackness hit my eyes and the next thing I knew I was on my back covered in cuts and bruises and a bus full of people laughing at me. I made a hasty retreat from my embarrassment.

That was the first time I blacked out, this was the onset for something dark coming into focus readying itself to consume me. I at never played truant from school, I always did the right thing, which made me a target for the bullies. I never wanted to be this guy but this is the result of my history that shifted my geography, since then my mathematical problems doubled, tripled and quadrupled and within my science all I am left with is the P.E. I learned that made me run away with a pipe-dream for bad English and dark-side of the human anatomy and biology for my evil fiction homework.

But as my good behaviour shifted into a bad attitude, I felt I gain control of myself, finally. No longer was I a robot stricken by routine. And when my imagination hit me between the eyes, I concocted a devilish plan, use what I have and write everything you can.

Now this is easier said than done; especially when you have no money, no help and no readers. First thing was first, I needed a computer. I needed money for a computer, I needed a job. For a job I needed the right grades, which I didn’t have. Shop work it is (I am still working here by the way.) So now I have my computer, a little money, not a lot but hey, we writers have to start somewhere.

But if it wasn’t for my mental illness, I’m sure I would have given up on my life a long time ago. So now I plod on with my damaged baggage dreaming of something I can only imagine.

But I am sure, as long as I jot down all I can and keep reaching out to people, one day my dreams will come true. I am working on my second novel, which will shock the pants off this world, but I know you will enjoy it.

And I am still blogging short stories and creative writing; from time to time waving my poetic pen across the paper for you too.

So keep reading

And keep your pens busy.

Psycho for life!! Haha!

Alex

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Who am I?


demons pic

WHO AM I?

I’m a walking nightmare, my hands around my own throat, can’t shake awake! I’m dying to write dynamic dynamite; writing is my form of dialysis, I need all the badness out. A mental state of emergence has now been issued to you, personally. This is no jocularity; I mean this all the way down to my tormented soul. I’m rattling and shaking, I’m not afraid; you will twig-on when I snap. I’m digging up my own past, shovel in hand; I need answers and resolve some unfinished business, so you can lollop around my questions but remember this is my job, I write like a boss.

Misanthropy over here! So you’re either with me or against me, I’m going to war with humankind. I swindle and hustle my way out from my psychiatrist meetings; they label my big-toe as sane and packed me back to the free-world I am coming to conquer. If you were smarter you would have caught me out. I bring no attention to my shell, I blend in, disappear and robot-dance my way into the crowd, my circuits have shorted but this has made me a bigger man. If you knew my story, you would burn my book.

I’m heat-seeking for inner-peace,

But before I be seated,

These are my proposed proceedings,

I’m pulling out all my deep seeded beliefs,

A concocted mix of special needs, my inner-beast and deceit,

These are the things which live deep in me.

I am a soldier of the apocalypse,

Holding hostage every major metropolis,

If you can’t topple this, copy this,

Looking for my mind,

As I look for a lost wish.

I’m not a writer; I am the reaper of words,

My life is on an egg-timer,

What can be worse than being the worst?

Strand by strand,

I stand before you less than half the man,

I’m a problem they buried,

Now it’s time to raise hell,

The feeling of lost and deserted,

“This is what you deserve, kid.”

I cut myself to excel the bad blood,

It’s all fun in Hell,

Fall down this wonder-well,

Hurry-up before it gets backed up.

I’ve lost my mind,

A search and rescue team,

They can’t find me,

Yeah, laugh it up!

Back when I was fighting for life,

It was frightening,

My personal war of Clash of the Titans.

It’s time to unbind the blind,

And just enjoy the ride.

 don't-stop-writing

I’m not coming down from this high, until I am grounded and surrounded by stars. An operated opened sternum sense of a nonsensical life, I have. My real name is Addict, I pour a bowl of Pill-pops, add my milk or vodka-shots and spoon my mouth what it needs. No more secrets, I am an opened book… I need help, I think. I have isolated all I love with my ice-cold heart. I am living a double life and people are fatigued trying to figure me out. How do I join the living again?

Welcome once again to my ribaldry! Sanctimoniously I dribble around what I truly need to deliver, but effusively I fumble my falsehood. I am a walking, writing blob of human but with a side dollop of insane lollop; you can be just like me. Still impecunious, but that is okay, one day I will dream and wake to a happy ever after. Perhaps I am impervious to a happier time? What I truly am in most eyes is an indemnifying writing object. I have a storm in my heart and love within my eyes; can’t I just touch the tip? Insatiable! I’m I accurately jejune to you?

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The Fallen Ones – A Duet by Alex and Patty


Roll-up! Roll-up! The amazing Just Patty and I have an announcement to make… We’re writing together again.

This poem is really cool guys, just give it a looksie’ and tell us what you think. Yeah, I know its Dark and Magical but that’s what makes it more awesome to read.

I highly recommend you check out her blog, if you haven’t already because Patty is an awesome writer!–> http://petitemagique.wordpress.com/

 So here’s another duet by us both! Try and guess which one of us write which verse.

Patty, keep your pen busy! Love from Creative Writer Alexander Kennedy

Creative writer - alex kennedyPatty NEW PHOTO

Just Patty–>https://petitemagique.wordpress.com/

Alex –> https://youngadultfictionblog.com/

The Fallen Ones

Tumbling

Inside my own mind

A free fall without a parachute

The darkness surrounds me

I close my eyes and drift away

Don’t try to save me

Just let me be

Drifting

Without a destination

Lock me away

Put me in chains

Before I drag you down with me

Can’t escape the things that aren’t there

Or are they?

Hiding

Inside my mind

The seasons change

But I stand still

Captured inside a glass box

I can see, but never touch

I am done fighting, I am done running

Tripping

Over obstacles on my path

Of life

Of death

Does it matter?

No

Because nothing really matters anymore

When you’re falling into the depths of

Insanity

If you somersault within a plummet,

I will catch you,

I’m a rip-cord wonder,

I’ll be your personal parachute.

I’m your spotlight in the dark,

We must both fight for our hearts,

Sailing upon this boat,

Because we’re oceans apart,

I’m coming closer from afar.

When the destinations unknown,

Set sail for the road that leads home,

And for your metal chains there must be a keyhole,

So when your days let it rain,

And your faith gets away,

Keep hope close,

I’m pulling you out from this deep hole,

So you no longer feel cold,

We’re just two people,

Good and evil,

It’s time to evolve,

And see it all.

Come back to the land of the living,

Where I am,

I’m a helping hand worth giving,

Stick yours out,

Come with me, please,

Sanity or insanity?

 

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Breaking Bad Love


Breaking Bad 'ABS' edition

Breaking Bad ‘ABS’ edition (Photo credit: crises_crs)

 

Breaking Bad Love

You may believe this is a story of another broken-heart, but you’d be wrong. This is a story about overcoming Drug Addiction. I hope this helps you…

These Breaking bad thoughts shimmer to the surface, living in a fantasy world where I shiver in the darkness within a false high. Doped up to the eyeballs, this is where I fall from the sky; this is where I’ve lost my mind, right on. Black rainbows of love whilst living in the dark, I’m not supposed to grow in the shadows of a drug. I can’t sleep at night; I love you too much to close my eyes, to close this chapter of our lives we share together. They tell me “One day at a time” but days are no longer my problem, it’s the seconds I circle around when I think of your last kiss. One more hit and I’m done with this. I say I am done with you, but I know deep down I live under you, amazed by the clouds you show me. I loved you and I believed in you so much, if I knew your plans I would have never taken your hand and runaway. You feel so good it should be illegal.

These love drugs are teasing me, they do not love me the way I love them. You leave me speechless and breathless; this is our dirty little secret which keeps me restless, I will never speak of this. Reality, she means nothing to me now, I’m in love with the voice and the feel of you. You’re the real eye-candy, I want to show you off but at the same time keep you to myself, you make me nail-bitingly selfish. It’s always the last time, but with every kiss feels like our first. I’m cheating on my basic motor-functions with you. This is my love letter to you, after this we will be done.

I can no longer tell what is real and what is not, this was your doing. This broken heart and endless turns within these covers will be my punishment for leading you down my path. Crying with a glass of water held by a shaking hand, you bring me no joy in doing this. Time to love what is good for me, not love what I want. A fresh breeze runs over my pale skin. I will no longer listen to the voices or even pick up that phone, I want my life back! I want pain, I want my talent back, I want my family and most of all I want my girlfriend; you stole this from me.

I know I will open up books in the future and see your devastating face as you destroy someone else’s existence. But they will have to pull through your chill by their selves, I cannot help. I must dump you now down the toilet of forever. I can hear you shouting “How will you survive without me?!” Do you really want to know how I will survive? …Like this, by myself. I’m going to get myself rich, buy myself a time-machine and throw you out before you got here, only so you know. Just like you, you won’t see me coming.

I’m clawing my way back to the light from your tantalizing siren love song, now I’m pissed off, no one can control this mental patient, I am ultimate; I will be forever. Life is my drug now and you mean nothing to me, it’s over now… leave.

 

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