ExpectationMonochromatic sky.Rainy sunbeams.She waits.
Worth itHe melted tragedy into his smile.
The Paintbrush's LamentPainting a still life...My own.
Cycle of Earthian LifeFallen titans feed the growing ones.
Almost a Thousand CranesStopped folding.Wishes are flightless birds.
Faulted LegacyLie to History:Be their victor.
Words of DefeatTold you...I was no hero.
Celestial harmonySweet summer night.Sky's darkening hue.
Where nobody stares...Eyeless realm.Unmasked, defenseless...Yet safe.
Story Time“Tell me a beautiful story.”“You.” © L. L. Kelly 2013
The Heterophobic"I'm not gay," said his boyfriend.
The Birth of a Writer“Mom! I put six words together!”
ForwardShe ran faster with clipped wings.
A light definition of soulSoul's like fire:oxygen-transcended matter.
It's raining democracyWhen bombs fall, flyangels will
His Big BreakAssigned a non-speaking role.I'm speechless.
DivorceA pawn. Betwixt N D E I G N Q E N K A
RealityShe’s got terrible handwriting. You can’t even read it by the time you get to the end of the paper. She starts off real good but the longer she goes, boom, can’t read a thing. And she whistles in the shower. No one I know whistles in the shower. Singing in the shower, yeah, but no one whistles, and it’s only ever two damn songs: the Mario theme and “The Chinese Dance” from The Nutcracker Suite. For the record, I only know that last one because she’s told me a million times what it is."I figured as much."Did you know she can go a whole week without changing her pjs? God forbid you were to ask her to wear a pair of socks for more than six hours and you can forget about it. I swear, there’s dirty socks and mail everywhere. It’s not that she doesn’t read her mail but instead of throwing it out when she’s done with it, she just puts it on the dresser and lets it stay there. I’m not saying I’m the clean
One ShotShooting stars...Load, aim and fire.
ErosionTears erode stony heart, revealing emeralds.
My six last words"...I did my best for you..."
Obituary of a SoliderTrained for years~Worked one day.
Don't Judge a Book By It's Cover...tatteredt o r ndirty....Gentleman at heart.
Airhead (Oxymoron)Empty-headed.But so full of himself.
raineven the bravest bonescannot weather every hurricane alone -and my tired heart is still tryingto beat in placeswhere the world is hushed.I am waitingfor the quiet.
UselessDark whispers invade their minds.Useless.
oh my archimedesthere is a mediterranean maelstrominside of me, and frankly these demented bones,are inventing a thousand ways to drownmy soul inward,the curves of my cartilage are overripe vineyardsfor myriads of apprehensions blossomingage, insipid sand charting the honeysucklingprogression of snapping parabolasthe tempests swat opposing ranks& I am afraid that I have begun to lose myselfbetween the roaring of my ears, torrent in a can, a soulless man - and what is a man without a soul[ I'm lighter than that] these mythical caverns of what once was my daysare condensing into dripping pages,I want the books to etch my ru
Someday, FreedomFirst crack in my glass wall.