SPC Kellaway

SPC Kellaway Poems

Sometimes I feel it was my fault
Perhaps it was something I said
Sometimes I wake from a nightmare
Reliving it again in my head
...

I never wanted to be famous, I never looked for fame
I always hoped for understanding, to play the rhyming game

I write from life’s experiences, in an empathetic way
...

‘You are a poet’ he said, ‘How does that feel? ’

Like nothing on earth, I think, like I am bleeding words
It calms my system, but fires my imagination
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Keep on searching for your peace and always look for love
remembering that life is a journey that is over far too quickly

Measure each success from within, without pride or arrogance
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Tender days of yearning, longing to be free
Love amongst the school books, crying out his name
What was this teenage worship, how did I want him so
Was this to be my future, was I to join the foe
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I need to tell my story
I need to get it right
To tell you what has made
formed and shaped me
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Too many broken promises
Too many doors block the truth
My life is a worn out recipe
of something that never was cooked
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I am one
I lifted her up
as if I were a God
and she was my angel
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Empty streets of desolation
Boarded up houses standing alone
Factory buildings padlocked and empty
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Your eyes said it all, there were no words
I had no excuse, I had no defence
A moment of madness, but still I knew
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Born within a liberal society, a child of his age
he seeks his place amongst the surge of humanity
his many steps, both confident and uncertain, feed his doubts,
striving to hide his essence in a multitude of living tastes
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12.

Wild days
Quiet peaceful ‘me’ days
Family happy together days
Sad desperate gloomy days
...

James finds his way through dark icy roads
Deep in his thoughts of long lost happiness
Two years on the streets, his birthday approaches
Soon to be fifteen on a lonely Christmas Day
...

I see my tainted history, lest we forget
what ails this troubled mind. In jest I
sing my garbled tales of lost tomorrows
and step too far across the precipice of fate.
...

A bright summer morning greets me with a shower of light
I watch you sleeping, breathing softly, lost in your dreams
I long to capture the moment in a locket close to my heart
...

He wears his heart upon his tunic sleeve
His buttons gleaming gold and bright
But in his eyes you see the ache
The need to prove his worth
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Take the west road over
the glittering green hills of your youth

Add the blue azure morning sky
...

How will you remember me? How will you recall my life?

Think of me at 22; impossibly handsome and in full flow
Tearing at life as a bloodhound at a fresh new scent
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She was all I could see….

A vision of beauty
Born of a realism
...

Eternal waves shimmering away to the hills
Born of a different world, perfect in light and depth
Green suave of ageless symmetry on flanking guard
A myriad of tales lost in the emergence of time
...

The Best Poem Of SPC Kellaway

Victim

Sometimes I feel it was my fault
Perhaps it was something I said
Sometimes I wake from a nightmare
Reliving it again in my head

Sometimes I need to be hurting
Feeling the pain once again
Sometimes cutting my own skin
Is the only thing keeping me sane

Sometimes I wish I was not me
Because I hate me so much
Sometimes I need to be hiding
Out of harms way, out of touch

Sometimes I need to seek refuge
In any drug I can take
Sometimes floating outside me
Dulls the pain and the terrible ache

Sometimes I think I’ll get better
A new life without any grief
Sometimes I find I am serving
A sentence that has no relief

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