http://slow.writerscafe.org/alanpeterkelly The original writings of author alan peter kelly en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775981049 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 what is not releasedremainsit staysnor thinksto go away.every hedonistichistoryhas one footon pavementothergutteretched ondehydrated brainin broken teethvomitcontaining carrotthat one did not eatblack eyesand discardedunderwear.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2850541/ I was thinking about my friend Victoria Selene Skye Deme today. It's not an uncommon line of thought. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2849755/ for thedeadroads pavedin golden epitaphno longerfleshleft for lungswith breathto rakeyesterday'sweonlyfadethrough livesbeyondthe fussthe daythoseleftbehindriseto us http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2836962/ Peopleneedacompass.Moralorotherwisea compassneverlies. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2677281/ Impromptu. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2467912/ Art is everything.Everything is art. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2313584/ thiscovidthinghasa wayofdestablisingeverythingi thinkand sayI thoughmy daysof prisonisolationbelongedto all my yesterdayssssssno snakesin thesenewmonths and monthsin socialisolationthoughtmy temperhad settledlke anyman whounderstands.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2177825/ grief can bea shadowskulkingevenon the mostpersistentofwarmestdaywheresunshine literallybleacheseverythingright downto barest boneberestassuredthatprofound, permanentsenseofirreplacablelosswill let you knowwhen it is throughwith you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2175518/ Today I smile insidethe pregnant pausethat sometimesis my life.andwhile theremay bescant reasonfor smilesI'm smilinganyway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2138523/ my place is smallbut warm detachedself containedwithrunning fridgethatI don't needto catch air conditionedbig screen tv and King Sizesingle yesi won't imposeyou are welcome to my bedwill gladly sleepon red shag pile carpet floor like some Old Yeller if you don.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2115182/ Your mindis guillotine sharpand shiney. I'm an oldboy scout, motto:be prepared,and I'm hereto tell yetanother ghostif I weren't already deadyou'd havejust killed me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2099269/ This poem belongs to Victoria Selene Skye Deme. Rest in Peace, Surreal Queen. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2064453/ i be cruelto thosewho'd trytorment ordestroy meand minefor whatwas murderedover timemy vengeful ghostnow takes little shredsof daily fleshas recompensefor the deathsinflictedbit by bitI stripthem backright downto thesinglecellin utmost trut.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2035692/ ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/2017953/ this is a production that has been nominally edited stream of consciousness flow of eye to mind to hand to digitation as review upon a poem. I thought it adequate enough to expose elsewhere. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1935958/ I like it.. so I guess it's a smashing success in the Legendary lunchtime in my mind. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1918962/ enlightenmentis the endreflectedin a a murderof black birds http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1918597/ berylliumbe the colourof thine eyes.atomic opticsare easy memoriesthey lingeron still simmering fleshonevery yes ever expressedsharp and heavyas an elephant'srecollectionsSanctuaryin a posttruth ageis number fouron the periodic tablemy only qualitya .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1917706/ Sometimes a love really does last a life long. No matter how many times we spin upon our dimes love holds on. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1908192/ With gratitude to Ed Hart http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1794127/ triggeredbe the fingerfor to forgean entire lifeinto a best leftforgot infinityof something elsebereft of lighteternalbe the pullthe bang the fallthe stench of corditeyes we gangstershave our dayboth ends of the spectrumyesprepare and if you praythen do so nowto.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1516826/ most roadshave been paved byother souls older soulssoulsno longer hereexceptfor the echoes in theircarbon footsteps http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1514813/ no mobile phonesturning enginescapes and costumesherei am submergedwithin your warm tonicthere's no needfor me to even breathefor such an act maycause ripplein continuum just want to stretchout arms and sayi love youTHIS MUCH!(but you sleep)embrace your .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1514812/ i hold the keyto my own paradiseit opens doorsi no longer needto pry http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1514477/ i amalways knockedso downand out for countcoldto firmamentdeadsix billion useless doornails worthof crucified liescan't murder memore thanyou http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1514002/ birds do not complainwhen they pass awaythey die quietly and while i knoweven birds would preferto pass in the comfortof companywhen theyfall it's quietwith no complaintor pageantry http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1513998/ this f*****g phoneis on death rowcracked screentoo slowdoes not doas it is toldim over smashingthings that I was firstto damageconsumablesare made to breakand this not sof*****g smart phonebetter pull its technohead inif it wants to goon living http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1464734/ how does one describe that bubbling on the inside.... exposed introspection. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1454214/       she gently painted a hole in my torso... exposed surprised my cold defeated biology immediately warmed making room for her to climb inside he pulled me apart with tentative passion pinned my stained glass skin to a point of pain above his heart we broke illuminat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1330527/ my art will burn with me. I will not hand my prize to paupers of the soul and mind could not care less for gifting how I once defined myself in life to those who would but seek further profit from my demise oh yes im going to burn as out of sight turns parasite blind dumb deaf to a tree they can no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1325303/ she is my valentine todaysends stars to every which wayin the sky that is my mind and I know she wont be hereright hereforever do not want to contemplateat allupon some future darkened date but for todayshe is my shining choice of valentine sending starsout every which wayin the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1316811/ its a poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1249446/ haven't written for awhile...this just came to me :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1119133/ time to expertly chalkanother failure to experience...an outlineat a familiarcrime scenewhere love heartshave turned into flowersat a funeral http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1029816/ We only got as faras lemons when it cameto lemonade and sunshineWhile wound is freshand to die fori swiftly depart the mainlandby boat backto my islandthen smash its worn out motorwith a heavy rock. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1019154/ Its architecture was a grand designbut there were problemswith supplywhich took too longto realiseand backers passedso architects resignedbut the architecturewas such a grand design. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1019152/ What a fool i am a self imposed prisoner of past circumstance.Still try to change bestas i canbut after every last mealand a few sombre wordsfrom the preacher man i step up to the gallowswhat a fool i am i am my own hangman. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1019151/ Words can bemisinterpretationsfronts for launderingself deceptionsinto crispsaleablerationaleunless they are spokenclose enough to feel as breathupon an open throat(its facets sharpenedto smooth or cut)words can be a murderwith electronic piano wire. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1019148/ i oncehad a voice.but somewhere along the wheyit disappearedfor the lifetime of a cancer patient.it came i found a wayto vocalise againbut saw through age in spacethat black and whitestill have no timefor greyit turns and in turni have nought to say. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1013569/ and although i wasnt therefirst hand at the festivitiesone need not be a dogto see there are alot of treesthat you cant missand in this sorry gardenground withsacharine / godand belly button lintone sees all without a hint of spectacle or necessityto squintyou could squirt 360degrees and not pass on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/1013567/ when he is done with you there will be no pity for a woman who breaks her marriage vows, you will just be another sad old cyber troll, fishing for another anyone who accepts old bags and luggage remind your stalker husband not to get sick on you, for you will be trawling cyberspace for a new boy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/794293/ ed gein series http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/794288/ queen suckles unformed mouthseyes stitched tightfeeding that vacuous pursein her dry / void mawsucking marrow from bonesneatly stretching tattooed skinto the extremity of limit thenwrapping it around a tidy lampshaderemoving all valuables from the carcassmelting down / molding soapfor her .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/794286/ ed gein series http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/794283/ bukowski was good humoured and philosophical regarding the large number of rejection slips early ononce, an editor told me that 90% of my poetry was crapi was glad for such honesty...for without it i could not have possibly grown as a writerof coursei have alot to learnbut one always has alot to lea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/793872/ i would rather imagine your life than know it outright...for in my vivid spectrumit is as your prodigious and apparently limitless mind...a starburst in a particolored multiverse http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/793816/ ed gein series http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/790094/ yesthings changealwaysa poetis a surferwaitingforthe nextwave http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/790057/ solitude saturates(overwhelming)since your departuresoma and soul have groundto dimlitstandstillyou are whollyadequatesolely on the tipof my every forethoughtto say i miss you isdefinitive understatementyou are the tonic solfain the key of lovethe helix wrapped aroundmy plain/base metalwhich is now .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/784391/ look at you.like dim witted roman senatorsvying for people to watchyour pinnaclesdipped in delusionawkward contortionsclimbing over each otherdumb animalsnever seen so muchinsanity and solid gold pridein mass mediocritycongregating in one placelittle fools goldfish in a tiny bowlslowly asphixiatingi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/alanpeterkelly/784389/