Tag Archives: Hell

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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I’m Losing Touch with Reality – Random Photos of me


pics of me for my blog 3

I tear into this page with terror,

I penetrate my fate with a diabolical pen,

Dip into my thoughts of blood-ink forever with this feather.

I go to work and put on an act,

I hold a girl only to get her in the sack,

I hold my tongue when people talk about me behind my back,

And I’m still crazy inside.

The horror scenes from my street cornered of crimes follow me to sleep,

Will I one day wake up dead?

Steal my pen!

Trouble has a way of stalking me,

Rocking me rapidly, attacking me, grabbing me, flooring me, throwing me, burrow below me,

My writing takes over to cause a supernova,

I’m taking no more of the same boring rota,

So get ready to see what I have become so far…

pics of me for my blog 4

I’m living forever, I will die as a blogging dead writer; the haze of pipedreams will eat my illumining soul and corrupt naturally my calm nature nastily. I’m flying off the walls as this is coming off my chest, as a child I ate crayons now as an adult I am chewing on the end of my pen, not much has changed. Maybe this writing business is for me, the page is laid out before me, puke. This website is my last stand and my words are my last resort, I catch-a-phrase and head back the way. Fill these pages with shock value to fill those pockets with evil money to enrich that soul full of peace, I need a piece please. I’m losing touch with reality because I’m thinking thoughts; won’t you step into my fantasy world?

Pics of me for my blog 2

I’m done praying for archaic change,

I’m changing lanes faster than I can age in the face,

Where I’ll be in five years?

A writer if it’s my fate, if only I don’t die here.

I only have a glimmer of hope,

A pencil sharpener to butcher words as I go,

I’m simply the best character I have every wrote,

Break my soul apart and turn my words into stone.

Tribal Tattoo

Standing in front of this mirror mimicking lip-syncing death-threats to myself, I’m living in a living hell. These pages give me the key to leave hells grip on me, now I will never fail now. This blog is my playground, if you push me, I am swinging! See these words through the world of a wonder. That’s why they call me Alex Kennedy, I write venomously but if you extract the remedy, you will live to see another day. True evil has no gender, so I think I shall wear the crown.

Pics of me for my blog 1

And to all who are down here reading this, yes, all of these pictures are me. I thought it was about time I showed my face. Haha! Alex

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If We Only Die Once, I Want To Die With You


If we only die once I want to die with you

If we only die once, I want to die with you. I had a dream of our perfect life together, holding hands in the midst of each other’s battles. If we are side by side we could conquer it all, we could be royal lovers in our ravishing dark land. Too much booze brings out our slurring kiss of life; me + you = us. Self-destruct with me and I promise you will not be alone in this world full of people.

I only have one heart so I can only share it with one other person; you! We have nothing else but this.  You give me life being around you, if you were to ever leave me the loneliness would be my serial killer every day. As time goes by and I haven’t seen your face in a while, I begin to think I could live without you but when you arrive in front of me, the feeling of loving something which is precise for my soul comes flooding back in. You do more for me than you know.

I love you, the term sounds so overused so let me just say I love us. Billions of people within this world and I haven’t met them all but there is one I cannot live without. I want to grow old and senile with you, forget you one moment and dance in our treasured memories the next. I stand a man upon this page ready to fight for love on its own battlefield. Over this past year my life has been about you, you haven’t gone that far from my mind but you always arrive at my door; your knock knocks me down. Something bigger than my ego and passion is at work. I know you and it is a love of stellar proportions. I can daydream of you for hours and hours, to the outside world I am living with a daze but inside myself I am building a greater future for us both, keeping our love alive. A man would go crazy without a proper woman.

I am being held by the angels; does that mean I am in danger? And now I can’t stay with you, I am afraid that death is my cure. Have I jumped my last stepping stone? Let myself in through heavens doors. Set forth from the light beyond, from the fight before I have to stay strong. Laying here, going, going, gone. Then being thrown in the darkest of holes, at the back of my home. My eyes I have to keep them opened, the reaper is soul shopping, he says “More often than none, you will be homed within that coffin.”  No! We could be together forever, until death do us part, I would go further than that just to protect both of our hearts. I would travel to heaven or even to hell, just so I can save you, my love, and make you my world. Now watch me deteriorate, as I feel all this weight, of looking fear in the face, seems like now we’re in a race, in this day and age, can’t be without the key to my cage, “What would they say if I wanted out?” They would say. “Alex, you are not seeing this straight, it is normal for you to be feeling this way.” To me, today, towards this world, keep me away.

Destiny is written within us all, each footstep is a word, each mile is a sentence and each life is a book, no matter how the ending the novel shall be finished.

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This Pen Is a Monster; It’s The Only One That Gets me!


what-i-really-do-writer

This pen is a monster; it’s the only one that gets me!

I’m coming for it all, one last stand on every piece of paper, crumple it up and use them as bombs or make myself paper aeroplanes. Extremists, Haha! Please… I’m an extreme extremist; I eat terrorists as if they were bubble-gum, see what I did there? I just blew-up another one. Pop! I’ll be waiting here forever on these pages; a pen as my gravestone, a bunch of blunt pencils as flowers and a papier-mâché coffin.  I’m throwing sucker-punches at this page but this isn’t the bible, less holy! My life stinks, I can’t even afford to pay my water bill; I’m the stinky-kid. Help me, I’m a writer! What have I gotten myself involved in? I’m sick of this life; this must be the withdrawal from sanity. What can I do with this life except become a writer; there a light-bulb has just switched on, turn it off! This headache is getting worse. My words jump straight off the page, don’t they? Beware they could blind you.

Lit-Happens-Title

This whole big bad world has nothing on me, why do you think I peeled off my own skin? I wanted to become appealing to everyone. You cannot do what I do; you can only do what I cannot do, which is stop and fail. I’m now stabbing my eyes with my pen, so I can really see what I am writing for you. Can you see passed my words and see the light? Here, let me put this computer over your head. This is what I’m meant for; to me it’s as if I’m carving my name in cement. It’s that easy!

So throw all your pens up in the air, blacken out my Sun, no matter; I write in the darkness. Human emotion is my only kryptonite; it radiates through and clouds my vision, I just have to remember I’m not human. I live in this pen, I live in these words, now you have read me; I’m on your mind – my job is done. Don’t blame my mother; she did her best to raise Hell! From every litter you must have a runt, that’s me. I’m Mr. Brightside though; I must have rolled on my side on this hellfire. I could always count my blessings in life but I’m a writer, I don’t deal in numbers.

when you start getting resentful

I sleep with this pen every night; I think I have contracted ink-poisoning, it’s life-threatening with every word I scribble. Fame is in a frame on my mantle, I’m in love with her but she is too busy satisfying other people but I will be the love of her life, until we’re both dead! I bucking-bronco off all of my mental baggage, I’m sick of carrying all of the dirty laundry; they call me a pig-headed ass!

there is evil within us

Why are you asking me to leave? I don’t even live on this world. These aren’t words, they are only spasms I suffer with, so what exactly are you reading? That’s right, nothingness. Why are you here? You could be writing screenplays, you could be living your perfect life, you could be making money; don’t do what I’m doing, I’m doomed!

On a scale of one to five, in women’s eyes, I’m usually number 4. Why do you think I never step forward in this line up? I don’t want to be underrated. But I did it! It’s like a murder he wrote.

I burst into laughter every time I read my journal, my life is such a sick-joke it’s actually funny. I can’t talk to some people, I get more sense from talking to brick-walls, so I did that and they tried locking me up for that too.

A problem shared is a problem doubled, my words can be infectious. Does Alex live here? Sorry, his upstairs is vacant. This pen is a monster; it’s the only one that gets me. We’re all prisoners behind this mortar; I’m reaching through the brickwork to show you I’m still alive.

rejection

And as soon as my stars have aligned, you can then watch me as I shoot! Because I’ll be a Superstar.

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