"kelley" poems
I write about the stars too much.
I blame you.
Eyes holding galaxies in sweet captivity.
That starstruck feeling when you look at me.
Lips that taste of constellations.
Ecstacy of cosmic proportions.
Words drawing me in like a black hole.
Your body, like a goddess swimming in stardust.
Accidental perfection parallel to the Milky Way.
Your laugh as bright as a thousand supernovas.
Heart made of stars, filling the space in my own.
I write about the stars too much.
But really, I just write about you, the best of them all.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
You are indescribably beautiful.
More than your breathtaking smile.
Or the way you look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes.
You are beautiful in this supernatural way that makes me yearn for an explanation.
It is such a beauty that makes me feel complete.
A tremendous burst of euphoria and bliss just by the thought of you.
Your bewitching emanation that makes my soul electrify.
As if we were split in a ****** world to search for one another.
Your immense beauty that is far beyond the physical.
It makes me suffer in the most amazing way.
Forces me to watch every careful step,
To not shatter the perfection of a thousand lifetimes.
A beauty that makes the world seem brand new and brilliant.
You make the flowers bloom fuller,
The grass greener,
And the birds sing finer.
You are the deity my heart has struggled to search for,
The divinity my soul has craved,
And the magnificence I have only dreamt of.
Your presence makes this life hold a more significant meaning.
You are the loveliest being,
I have ever had the pleasure of sharing an existence with.
You cause this intoxication in my very soul,
And make my heart skip every beat in the most tremendous way.
You have brought new meaning to my life.
Things that were once a blur now makes sense.
You have given love "at first sight" a true meaning.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:36 PM UTC
I write in the midnight corner of now and what is to come. Sifting through the ashes of the forgotten. I seek what I fail to find in a light I can scarcely see. The rain washes the sins from my skin so that the ones inside can bleed back out. My words catch the air with gentle, intense passion. I caress the broken cheek hoping to fix it and finding only myself more broken. I know not of what is to come but I can prepare myself with the ammunition of my past. The brittle autumn wind calms me with the vibrant colors of a dying world. My mind wanders into the absent recesses of my twisted imagination. The words I write copy the voices in my torn heartstrings. I lust for the cold rain fingers that embezzle my mind. My soul is painted with the bright blackness of a blackhole's laughter. There is a butterfly caged in my stomach and I'm too afraid to let it free.
- - -
When will I know that I've found rapture?
~S.C. Kelley
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
My interests include
Reading old love poems,
And reading the volumes in your eyes.
Writing new love poems,
And writing our future together in my mind.
Drinking hot tea in the middle of summer,
And drinking the words that your lips spin together like silk.
Listening to the late spring birds,
And listening to the heartbeat in my ears when you look at me.
Watching the stars in the dead of night,
With you in my arms and our bodies breathing together.
But my greatest interest above all else,
Is just you and every way you make me feel.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 1:35 AM UTC
Let's go skate,
Wear all black,
Smoke cigarettes,
And day dream,
In the dead of night.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
People write such cliche poems.
True love that goes on for lifetimes.
A gray city in the rain, colored only by the music of life.
Hot coffee entrenching the soul with warmth in the crisp autumn.
The perfect snowflake landing on the nose of his winter angel.
The smell of northern pines after a heavy storm.
Her unparalleled footprints in the sand with each angelic step.
Tailgate stargazing on an ideal summer night, hands intertwined.
But isn't that what poetry is all about?
The most heartfelt descriptions about the broadest of beautiful moments?
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
My eyes bleed with exhaustion.
My thoughts are fuzzy like my brain is stuffed with styrofoam.
My body sinks into the ugly carpet floor of my basement.
My mouth tastes sour with the flavor of an unslept soul.
I lie here writing instead of sleeping because it feels like the only thing I can do well, consciously.
My back aches with an elders pain at late seventeen.
I crave the warm embrace of my bed but am too stuck like sap to move.
I'm rambling here in my brain instead of resting my frigid existence.
My thoughts are slow and choppy now with the hesitation of drifty words.
My rusted, chipping ears hear nothing but silence and a distant coo-coo clock.
The chirps of a bird only found in my dark, dusty insanity.
The world weighs upon children such as these in a universe such as this.
I'm just, tired. Tired...
~S.C. Kelley
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 2:01 AM UTC
Skin like flowing flames
Eyes like infernos
Lips that make you spill every drop of your desires
Soft sharp fingers brushing sins into your soul
A voice like boiling honey
Promises of wild fantasies
Contracts in blood
All tricks of the Devil himself
~S.C. Kelley
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:12 AM UTC
The Kiss
Poison
Long lasting
Stinging
Loveliness.
A moment
Lasting
Forever
Yet
So quick.
Hearts
Beating
Throbbing
Fluttering.
Lips
Tangled
Locked
Harmonizing.
Minds
Fuzzy
Confused
Yet
definite.
Bodies
Warm
Close
Touching.
Memories
Existant
Looming
Forgotten.
The Kiss
~S.C. Kelley
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 1:49 AM UTC
You’re like a storm.
But in the best and most beautiful way.
The kind of storm that happens all of a sudden on the most average of days.
You’re like a hurricane coming into my life and tearing away the ugly grey buildings and leaving only the green freedom to overgrow my heart again.
Like a thunderstorm that pours out love filled raindrops to fill my soul and grow back the childlike happiness that's slowly been deprived of its pure ecstasy.
Like the tsunami-sized tidal waves that wash away my lost ambitions and filthiness.
A blizzard that whitewashes my view with your unmistakable perfection and pulchritude.
The flash flood that appeared into my life at the snap of a finger and since that death-defyingly moment my love for you has only grown.
You’re the faultless storm that has taken my heart, life, and soul into steady hands and locked them all within yourself.
Since then, I’ve never looked back and never will.
You’re the perfect storm.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Bottled root beer tastes like summer.
The kind I used to spend
on Kelley’s Island as a kid with
bicycles and put-put,
ice-cream cones too big and
beach trips that stretched
the length of a road too long.
The kind of summer that doesn’t end
but rather lasts too long
in the June-heat and lake-splashes - filled with laughter
from siblings who still haven’t grown old enough yet
to think twice about laughing with their younger brother.
Bottled root beer is sweet
with condensation and sweat -
sweet reminders on my tongue
that though it tastes of memories,
that makes it taste all the sweeter.
Jun 21, 2024
Jun 21, 2024 at 4:26 PM UTC
Love is like a book in many ways,
And you are the author.
There is a beginning which can be shaped in many ways.
A middle or present which is carried out based on the first chapter.
But whether or not there is an end is up to you.
If you write the rest of the book good enough,
Then the rest of it never has to stop.
If it's the perfect story,
It can be written in volumes.
Each letter spun together,
With the heartstrings of a desperate lover.
Every word written in care with tears,
From her heartbroken cheeks.
Every paragraph dripping,
With the eternal hope for the future.
Despite the low point of some chapters,
There will always be a turn of events for the better.
This creates a story that can go on for thousands of lifetimes,
Like that of the love, he holds in the highest esteem for her.
Love is like a book that never ends,
Only if it is true and pure.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 10:16 PM UTC
How do you put such profound emotions into words?
Do you paint them onto the page like a gentle brush swooping and sliding?
Do you shout them from the stage into an audience of frightened eyes?
Do you quickly write them down with a stern ballpoint scratching into blank paper?
Do you whisper them softly into curious ears with gentle and intimate intention?
Do you scream them at your memories till your throat burns?
Or do you silently stare at the sky and think them into the abyss?
~S.C. Kelley
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
I still feel you in my arms.
.
Still looking at the heavens together,
With the galaxies in our eyes.
.
Still breathing in unison,
Our living souls crash like roaring seas with every inhale,
And calming them with each exhale.
.
Still whispering destinies in your ear,
Feeling your hold around me tighten with hopefulness.
.
Still together in what felt like fate,
The moment that was forever.
.
Still, steady heartbeats,
Softly throbbing into each other.
.
Stillness that never ended,
And the anticipation for it to be broken,
By the sweetness of your soft, lively kiss.
.
Still,
Wishing for that night back.
.
Still.
Waiting.
.
.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 3:01 AM UTC
Your infectious smile,
Like a drug with uncontrollable side effects.
That real, genuine laugh,
Sweet like damp pines.
Those piercing, beautiful eyes,
Sharp enough to rip through my chest and suffocate my heart.
The lips that drew me in,
Like rosy vines tugging at my soul.
Your fine brown hair,
That tangled my mind with absolute rapture.
Arms of ivory gold,
Wrapping me safely with false bliss.
Your angelic body,
Tailored so perfectly to mine like destiny.
A soothing voice of honey,
I could listen to for hours with a simper reply.
That is just the beginning,
Of what makes you lovely.
Only the start,
To a story of your undying loveliness.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
I guess you could say that I get jealous easily.
I'm the type of guy that will break out in a sweat when my girlfriend talks about something she hated about her ex.
My hands shake at the thought that she probably said those three exclusive words to another guy, and maybe even meant it.
I'm sorry to the ex that I punch in the nose because you say, "Hi", to her in the halls.
But in truth, I'm not.
I feel rage bubbling in my stomach like magma when I hear his ******* name, that I can only guess you've tried on in the past.
My knuckles ****** themselves when a Facebook memory with his face shows up.
Smirking at me like he knows how much it makes me want to grab his throat and squeeze till my fingers break.
But once I'm inevitably left all alone, then I'm the ex-boyfriend I want to slaughter with all the black contempt that sticks in my throat like blood.
So I guess you could say I easily get jealous.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
Love.
The Heart.
It beats stories.
It throbs symphonies.
It shutters like butterflies.
It shatters like glass.
It spews desire.
It drips lust.
The Heart.
Love.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
The window
So cold
Though the
Air is warm
And still
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
Hot box a cigarette , sawmill gravy and country ham ,
Entrenched in the morning paper , dishes scrubbed , drumming of pots and pans ! Blue collar people with somewhere to be , buoy's chained to the bottom of the sea ! Sweet black ribbon covered in fire ants , May honeybees , wildebeest crossing the wild African plains..
White smokestack dens of endless toil , black tar factories , dead fish waterway , boiling star infrastructures !
Biscuit , tobacco , hot coffee welder , plumber and electrician
Caviar , flounder , after dinner mint doctor and lawyer ..
Goody powders , soda pop cures , work induced migraines for
societies 'riff raff' , high atop steel skeletons , life hanging in balance .
Xanax , blue cheese , marriage counselor soccer moms , yoga , wine party ..Young people lie in their own blood , candle light vigils are like all others . Repetitive anguish falling on deaf ears , billion dollar football stadiums , homeless freeze to death , Good Morning America focused on the Grammy Awards or someones *** , Miley's tongue , Scientology or Donny and Marie !
Bath salt possession , teenagers are shot full of bullets , Kelley and Michael promote Hollywood garbage , their so ******* cute !
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Why is it that when I start to feel alive,
It feels like the wrong thing to do?
Why is it that I am convinced that I don't deserve the greatness I'm gifted?
Why is it that the warmth I feel is always quickly faded and frozen?
Why is it that when it feels like the final victory, the war is just beginning?
Why is it that I am secretly the monster I swore to despise?
~S.C. Kelley
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC
You are my family.
Given the choice I would choose you,
and you alone.
I would go to the ends of the earths
just to find you.
Because if not for you:
what is my reason for existence?
For breathing?
For putting up with everything and everyone?
You are the reason,
and you are it alone.
You are my whole world,
my everything.
My love at first sight.
My buddy as Mrs. Kelley would say.
You are my partner in this,
ever since that first kiss.
That was my way of saying
you can have my shattered heart.
As long as you can put it back together.
I love you my Noah,
my teddy bear,
my love,
my everything.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 7:02 PM UTC
Could you kiss me?
Remember when we used to hate each other?
I think I might have loved you
Did you like girls?
I loved being your son
I still have that Footloose pamphlet you gave me
Thanks for being nice to me
Carrot-top Kelley
I tacked that picture on my bulletin board
scratch my back?
You were my first step outside kid
I still think you were flirting with me
I was surprised when you swore
Can I get a towel, please?
I was writing poetry when you found me
Paul really is great, huh?
can I sit with you one more time?
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
I see you
staring from across the room,
but that twinkle in your eye
captivates me so,
I can't look away, too.
I'm uncharted,
You're a creation of my daydreams;
We're familiar strangers
like Adam and Eve
as we lust over this forbidden fruit.
I see a smile
and our lips are in sync -
curving upward
as our eyes shy away;
The things we do not know
won't stop us
as we travel to the edge
of each other's imagination.
Dancing...
She likes to dance
as she twirls through my mind
like a dream from long ago.
That look
(I know where it leads, do you?)
gleaming from within
the meadows of her glistening,
green
eyes,
expresses desire -
and she knows I'll succumb.
Tongue-tied and speechless,
I hope that she believes in fantasies, too.
You're one in a million,
and we're one-on-one;
The possibilities know no limit...
So let's keep them that way:
I'll remember you in fantasy,
and you can pretend that you knew me.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
Oppressive winds carried among the nightfall sky
aloneness dried the atmosphere
infection slips in windows
romantic thinking numbers sleep time
Henry vanished before military return
his satchel keeping love letters
photographs that presented wounds
but his march was a necessity
Power from simple handguns land on mission's soil
tunnels presented dead grunts from the high rising fire
a week after his love brought her life
Children often remember Kelley
killing stress with magazines, empty men and brandy shots
her ******* pounded for days
but her heart was fatigue
that cross patted her neck which carried black mysteries
lips that presented silence
a beloved brown made up new most days
Guys often kissed her squeezing out security
dangerous men fancied her
some laughed like they understood
said they would fill their hats of other "working" women making new found glory through washed up love
She said my handgun holds power presented at my feet:
one shot to feel the dead
that shot remembered every night before bed
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
We're all rebels WITH a cause.
We all have something that we would put above all else.
Even authority.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 3:28 AM UTC