James's comments (member since Mar 18, 2009)

James's comments from the ¡ POETRY ! group.

Halloween

By James G. Kelly

Jack-o-lanterns, costumes, trick-or-treat
Handing out candy sugar sweet
This is what Halloween has become
There is a deeper meaning where I come from

It is the witch’s end of year
A night that's shrouded up in fear
The wall that holds back the dead
Gets very thin with rituals read

Their spirits free for this one night
They roam the earth causing fright
The cauldron bubbles bat wings boil
Release the dead from the soil

Where they've been for many a year
The dead will rise as witches cheer
Wands in woods the circle made
Candles, incense, a sharpened blade

New Year blessings to achieve
On this night All Hallows Eve

Zombie
By James G. Kelly


Once dead he walks again
Bones visible beneath his rotting skin
‘Tis voodoo causes him to rise
Again to see through long dead eyes

The dark red blood for years congealed
The open wounds that never healed
Called from death by an evil spell
A thirst for brains that he must quell

It's the only food that satisfies
Deaths hunger has no compromise
First one then two they’re everywhere
Causing the living great despair

All graves empty a spell gone wrong
The living doomed by the ominous throng
Brains eaten by zombies the newly dead rise
From those still living come the cries

Lock your doors and stay inside
You may yet survive this horrid ride
The only way to kill the dead
Is with a bullet in the head

So arm yourself without delay
As the wave of death comes your way

That said, lol. They read like poems and not a short story.

I enjoyed reading your poems, Jim. You do have a way with words.

Again, I haven't been into poetry for very long. I haven't studied it to the degree many of you have. I just enjoy writing it basically for myself, and anyone else that might happen to like it as well. I have had a poem published by the way. My main genre is horror fiction and the poem titled 'Halloween' was published in a horror fiction magazine. That said, isn't it possible that it is the critics that keep poetry unpopular. Instead of writing for themselves and for the public and having fun with poetry, is it just possible that too many poets write to try and impress the critics. And the ones that go against the established contemporary forms have no chance because everyone wants to be on the good side of the critics, or those "in the know", so they can't allow themselves to even venture to say that they like something that a critic has shunned. One example would be, I believe his name was Harley, who said if he starts reading a poem and it rhymes he stops reading it. That is a pretty narrow minded view and I'm sure he misses out on a lot of great poetry with that view. I don't stop reading a poem simply because it doesn't rhyme and I have read and liked many poems that do not rhyme. Maybe that's why so many artists only become famous after they and their critics have died. Only then do the public get a chance to really enjoy it without fear of being criticized for it. The poetry part of this is the, as I have stated before, convoluted, impossible to understand poetry that the average Joe can't understand and therefore can't enjoy. Just a thought.

I guess one way to learn what good poetry is is to learn why your own poems are not, and see where I need to improve. This is a poem I entered a couple of months ago. Thanks.

My Love
By James Kelly

You are the stars on a moonless night
You can make a dark room fill with light
You are a warm, gentle spring breeze
You are the song birds that fill the trees

These are the things you remind me of
A babies first laugh, the coo of a dove
Wonderful things sent from above
Wonderful things like you my love

A small tuft of bird fluff floating on air
A dainty lace doily on the back of a chair
A trip to the beach on a hot summer day
The magic of an artist's work on display

All the best things of this earth comprised
Can be seen in the beauty of your eyes
The love that I feel when we're together
Can warm my heart in the coldest of weather

Your beauty is greater than that of a rose
Your hair your eyes your cute little nose
Your full red lips the curve of your cheek
The mere sight of you leaves me weak

It is for you that I write this my dear
How much I love you should now be clear
My love for you is off of the chart
I love you more with each beat of my heart

No problem Jim, and thanks Ruth for the info on some poets I can check out. I would appreciate any constructive criticisms any of you would like to give on some of the poems I have written. They are all pretty simple and they all rhyme, lol. Stop by my site any time and check them out. Thanks again for this wonderful discussion.

I would just like to clarify that I am not the one teaching a class. That was another James. I doubt if I could even pass a class on poetry, lol. I do understand where you are coming from Jim, but I was also glad you kind of agreed with me.

I will admit that in the world of poetry I am an infant barely out of the womb, but isn't there such a thing as poetic license that allows a poet to move words around, even today, to make his/her poems rhyme if that is the type of poem he/she is going for. Is there not a place for straightforward, easy-to-understand, simple poems, or do they have to be convoluted and nearly imossible to understand to be considered art. I would consider the writers of Hallmark cards to be artists. I have seen many people brought to tears by their efforts. I would also like to thank eveyone for this discussion. It has been very educational.

Silent Phone
By James G. Kelly


Another night I'm all alone
Sitting by the silent phone
I'm tired of this lonely life
In my hand I grip the knife

The knife is sharp its blade does gleam
It almost seems like a dream
Can I do it I don't know
I'm sure it would be better though

If this world were rid of me
A better place I'm sure it'd be
I sit here staring at the knife
Thinking of my worthless life

I start to do it, but not just yet
I want another cigarette
As I smoke I contemplate
Could this really be my fate

To die right here all alone
Sitting by the silent phone
I've thought about it yes its best
I plunge the knife into my chest

Now it’s over or so I thought
It's the devil's grip in which I'm caught
An eternity in hell I'll burn
I'm telling you I hope you'll learn

Don't take your life hell takes you in
It's the only unforgivable sin
Trust in God He'll make you whole
For only He can save your soul

So trust in God His praises sing
And soon your silent phone will ring

My Love

You are the stars on a moonless night
You can make a dark room fill with light
You are a warm, gentle spring breeze
You are the song birds that fill the trees

These are the things you remind me of
A babies first laugh, the coo of a dove
Wonderful things sent from above
Wonderful things like you my love

A small tuft of bird fluff floating on air
A dainty lace doily on the back of a chair
A trip to the beach on a hot summer day
The magic of an artist's work on display

All the best things of this earth comprised
Can be seen in the beauty of your eyes
The love that I feel when we're together
Can warm my heart in the coldest of weather

Your beauty is greater than that of a rose
Your hair your eyes your cute little nose
Your full red lips the curve of your cheek
The mere sight of you leaves me weak

It is for you that I write this my dear
How much I love you should now be clear
My love for you is off of the chart
I love you more with each beat of my heart

Storm
By James Kelly


Darkening sky the clouds turn black
The sun retreats in fear
Ominous feelings of doom and joy
As the storm draws near

Darker still now day is night
Bringing out my primal fear
Lightning flashes thunder cracks
The storm is finally here

The wind begins to bend the trees
To and fro their tossed
The heavens cry its many tears
Inside the storm I'm lost

White jagged bolts tear through the sky
The only brightness to be found
Less than a second then it’s lost
Then thunder shakes the ground

Scary as it is it's fun
The storm is at its height
The dark clouds all swirl round and round
It is a frightful sight

Slowing now the strong winds fade
Heavens tears begin to dry
Only distant flashes can be seen
In the brightening sky

It's over now the sun is back
I'm happy yet I'm sad
I love and hate them always have
Since I was a lad