Tag Archives: Writers Resources

The Syllable God – Poem

Creative writer - alex kennedy

The Syllable God – Poem

In front of this Lunar Eclipse,

This let loose humanoid lunatic turns mutant,

A grade-A student bullying school kids with the coolest new kicks,

Your Jiu-Jitsu flips are my amusement, your life is now truant, stupid!

Acoustic screams equipped to my new movement of music,

I’m on the run as a fugitive from their crucifixes,

Come to grips with this,

I want no part of your religion because you’re not fixing shit!

The movement I move in, so smoothly I’m moving,

It’s useless to copy; no no-body can stop me,

As I am a robotic computer, running solely on microchips,

Batteries not included,

Typos living at the end of each fingertip,

I can’t can this as a can of tuna fish,

You’ll need a tank and butane-gas to attack this nuisance,

Because I’ve just gained a new sense called no sense,

I’m merely giving lucid word pollution as a broken world solution,

So let all the new become ruins,

Light a fire under this world, do it and I will run through it,

I am emergency-calling your next-of-kin,

Maybe I’m talking articulate shit again, in which my tongue is too fluent in,

So get ready for some turbulence,

Because I’m bringing back the best of sin,

Before I am running for that border,

And become a Mexican citizen,

In 20 years when I am old and grey,

I’ll still be the same,

Even when I’m KING!


Alexander Kennedy – Creative writer


Leave a comment

Filed under 2014, 2015, Author, Blog, Blogging, crazy, Creative Writing, Dark Poetry, Eminem, Entertainment, Help, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Mental Health, Misc, News #2, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Story, Uncategorized, Wordpress, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

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!



Filed under 2014, Articles, Author, Blog, Blogging, Celebrity, crazy, Creative Writing, Entertainment, Fiction, Help, Life, Literacy, Mental Health, Misc, News, News #2, Random, Uncategorized, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

What Did I Just Write? What Was I Thinking?

2014 Alex kennedy

What did I just write? What was I thinking?

The jags from their stares wrench and echo beyond my eyes, their eyes are now chock-a-block with a monster. I invert my own look towards a daydream away from this pit of despair I helped dig for them. Hands clenched within my pockets, they will never know how close they had come to a detrimental dental demise. I tell myself, they lie through their teeth, smash through those pearly whites and find self-satisfaction within the truth.

Raise Hell!

They’re coming to take me away to the funny-farm; I’m up-in-arms, hooray! The dark clouds are forming above; Hells-mouth is foaming for a taste of me beneath, especially when I drive my evil pen through these skinned sheets. They call me bad names, they call me ugly, that’s okay, because so are you! How I sleep well with my disfigurement? I dream of killing you! I’m prising open hell; you’re all men of God, have faith in me when I say, I’m a man of my words. Now the world of words should have begged my momma to boil this baby at birth.


I’m the writer the good book looked-upon and shook fear from their every praying nook. I see words differently; they could be definitively disastrous definitely, defacing dimensions infinity infamously from the dragon inside me, diminishing dabblers dripping ink trying to deign diamonds. (That rhymes…. Fools.) YOU’RE IN MY WORKSHOP!!! I cycle down the path of a serial killing psychopath; reading recycled crap, redial that, RECYCLED CRAP!

pics of me for my blog 3

I’m done being the nice guy, time to write or time to die, lost my fights and ran for my life. This is the return of Alexander Kennedy, the evil pen strikes back. Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make it the most gruesome that these people have ever seen. What am I thinking? What am I writing? Alex, there is a method to your madness, can’t you see? I’m starting a war against humanity, sanity is the culprit and it must be smudged clean from this spirally flushed floating toilet.

there is evil within us

Bring you picket signs, pitchforks and lit torch, gather round, gather round the monster writer of the century. Sane people fear what they don’t understand and cannot control; I don’t play well with others, why do you think since I grow teeth they kept me caged up? I can out-write you all with my left arm tied behind my back. I cannot rub out these words, like when the world tried to rub out this mistake. I auto-corrected myself and picked up a dictionary for meaning for the word, Pain.

I learned a few more bad words along my way; I don’t need swear words to curse at you. I write you into my world and let the ground swallow you whole. An emptied soul and a mind full of poetic words help formulate a plan beyond insane proportions. I peel my skin and try to fit in, but sooner or later they find new ways to get to me, further under my skin. So I put my faith and collective insanity and create a fictional world, where human rules do not apply, only the evilness that seeps from me. So I will slog my way through the slutty, semi-silent but slithering away siren ridden streets for some sort of success. I will figure out a way to pull your eyeballs out to my blog; and once I am in your minds, I will manipulate my way to the top of the food chain and then start to munch my way down the pyramid.


So you can blame Eminem for giving me a second chance at life; Or you can blame my mother for giving birth to me. But it is society in a whole that failed me, pushed and pulled me to my own extinction, this is not an attitude problem, this is manmade evil. I’m your Frankenstein monster, you do not wish to confront. But just know I will take everything from you. This is all I know. This is my design.


I scrape my nails across my face,

Self-hate has set sail for that new place,

A doomed fate,

The world is clueless to this,

It’s as easy as tying my shoelace.

One thousand screams,

Confounded dreams,

Come huddle round my murder scenes,

Doctors try to de-feather me,

But they looked further in me,

And heard him climbing.

Now I’m breaking free,

They took everything from me,

Here’s their severance pay,

For all eternity.

Living in this glass cage,

Stopping me from a rampage,

But this is my bat-cave,

I’m planning your last days,

While you’re in the fast lane,

On this world as a bad stain,

The world will have a bad day,

Now watch as I make the glass break

And come around your way.



Enhanced by Zemanta


Filed under 2014, Articles, Author, Blog, Blogging, Blook, Books, crazy, Creative Writing, Eminem, Entertainment, Fiction, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Mental Health, Misc, My Insane Scribblings, News, News #2, Novel, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Random, Story, Uncategorized, Wordpress, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

Goodbye – Duet by Just Patty and Alex Kennedy

Worldwide readers & writers, tonight we have a treat for you, myself and the legendary Just Patty shall be teaming back up to entertain you once more. With our poem “Goodbye” some of the best poetic writing within this post. I hope you enjoy reading just as much as I & just Patty enjoyed writing. LIKE & FOLLOW!

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

Enjoy this final part of our insanely long duet!

Patty, keep your pen busy!

Patty NEW PHOTO2014 Alex kennedy


Alex –> https://youngadultfictionblog.com/

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


Duet by Just Patty and Alex Kennedy

I fall by my will and one day I know I will fall,

Caught by my cold-hearted chills,

I’m holding up a window to my soul.

Insomnia mixed with paper-cuts,

Is a formula drink unsafe to gulp,

Calm your nerves you save to cut,

Harm the world, you’ve gave enough,

My target is held and their grave is dug,

I’ve married in hell now we lay in blood,

The amount of times tragedy spellbinds,

My face has turned numb.

Demons in my heart,

Monsters in my eyes,

Feed them your body parts,

Until you’re lying there cross-eyed,

Write about your life,

It teaches you not to fall apart,

We know you don’t force these cries,

They’ve carted you a forestry of lies,

Penny for my thoughts means penny for my rhymes,

Plenty more from this entity with empty empathy,

Pointing the finger and death sentencing me,

If I pick up this pencil no one can eventually end me.

This is payback,

As if I owe you money,

I’m way past irony, it isn’t even funny.

Weather calls for extreme conditions,

The Heavens fall whilst we sit back and listen.

I’m holding my heart over you,

This is the moment of truth,

You’ve stolen my youth,

Now I’m too broken to view,

This picture of me,

I’m holding to you,

A splendid entry in dead-end eternity,

Suicide has in its hooks.



I fall against my will, but with broken wings

Deceived by my darkened heart

I’m holding up a barricade

No one gets in, no one gets out

Nightmares mixed with flashbacks

A poisonous gift from the past

Scream it out, I have had enough!

Sick of Life calling my bluff

I lived in Hell, it’s a peaceful place

Sometimes I can’t even remember my own name

My soul has turned numb

Darkness in my heart

Shadows in my eyes

Dreaming when I’m wide awake

Until you’re lying there all bleed out

Sing about your life

It teaches you not to give up

We know you force these goodbyes

And yet another loved one dies

A look inside my mind will destroy you

Devastating demons crawling through my brain

I can’t even remember the time I was sane

Don’t look at me, I will consume your soul

If Life is just a play, what’s your role?

You can keep all

Owe me nothing

Can you see the irony, don’t you think it’s funny?

Surviving calls for extreme measures

Hell will swallow all whilst we lay down and listen

I have nothing left to give you

Gave it my all

Now I am broken beyond repair

This picture of me

Is not even real

Delusional, optional, I think I will heal

But life was always in vain


Enhanced by Zemanta


Filed under 2014, Articles, Author, Blog, Books, Celebrity, crazy, Creative Writing, Entertainment, Fiction, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Love, Mental Health, Misc, Music, News, News #2, Novel, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, Wordpress, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

True Evil Holds a Pen


I am flirting with fire; from normality I had cold-feet. I am a kerfuffle of trouble, there’s no saving me now as I have mushroom-clouds for thought bubbles. They lacerate my world believing they killed me, I’m letting slip my dogs of war until they know me as a reformed super villain. Challenge Completed, Planet Earth; I’m spinning out-of-control, no fault of my own, I couldn’t keep hold. I’m a libertine shoulder barging my way through the captive creators; I’m writing on black paper in the dark.

No brain freeze or frisson, picking up lightening-bolts and throwing them at the pages of rapture I capture. This is merely reverie I reveal and unravel, I time-travel back and thwart all my enemies plans for me. I am no poltroon, I pollute pages personally I made it personal because I am no longer a person. The rain trickles down and washes away all my plights from my face, I change my mind and change my face and I am giving the world hell again, true evil is holding a pen. My calm levels are unstable, upon this page I have too much sycophantic horsepower, I bucking-bronco my way out from this web of life.


In school, after Maths was English class where I jotted down my aftermath from the bullies pulley, I guess I’m pure vile and puerile, I’m not a Transformer I can transmogrify. Rambunctious to my soul’s battery core; setting my switch to self-destruction. A man can only receive so much failure in his life before superiority takes over his eyes focus. Insanity is a gift from the Gods; I wield and shield it against sanity.

This world sees what they want to see; I could have charming characteristics, suave and soigné, hats off to me, my undercurrent is currently a catastrophe. All passengers, we have a slight insurgence for turbulence and wizen, please, fasten your seatbelts and come join me within my plummet. Its drizzling green and yellow pills, I’m dancing in the pain, I jump in blood puddles and reappear in sky tunnels of bliss. This hurt in my head I play it over and over again, until a joker smirk arises on my face, I’m no longer insane, isn’t life splendiferous.

insane 12

Within my writing I cannot be a stentorian, so I must visual lies my memory video-taped life, transplant and transport all of my supercilious kisses of life, these pages are where my wishes go to find a place to die. This world should have boxed me in early, now I can create topsy-turvy from everything that profoundly promotes to hurt me. Here comes the valetudinarian again, turn away, don’t dare turn that page, it’s all of the same. I could be a beacon of silver-lining light, but the doctors beat my head in with a rock to keep me under it for eternity. I am a writer, this is what I do, keep bringing you words and I shall sit here and laugh at you.

This image was selected as a picture of the we...

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 44th week, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Enhanced by Zemanta


Filed under 2014, Articles, Author, Blog, Blogging, Blook, Books, crazy, Creative Writing, Fairy Tales, Fiction, Guest Posts, Interview, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Love, Mental Health, Misc, Movies, Music, Novel, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Random, Story, Tales, Uncategorized, Writer, Writing, Writing #2