Poetry by Erren Kelly

Daughter Of Pearl

she was a peculiar one, this
daughter of pearl
she often hung out at the coffeehouse
musing on sci-fi novels or books
about zen
her voice sounded like whiskey
and cigarettes, with some
gravel mixed in
long sundresses brushed against
the floor when she walked
she always brushed her hair
out of her eyes when she
talked

who could ask for anything more ?

she rarely gave me the eye
when I walked the floor
by her table

yeah, her face was plain
but allison’s voice held all
the pain of janis’
songs

Allison finally came around and
loved me long

but like the brightest star
or the best dream
one day, she was
gone

The Death Of Saturday Morning Cartoons

“For the first time in 50 years, there was no Saturday morning cartoons of any kind on any of the major networks….” From a Yahoo! article…

No more mystery machine or mighty mouse
No more wile e. coyote chasing the roadrunner
on Saturday mornings
Though I never took him seriously
If the coyote always had the money to
Go to acme to buy materials to make
The trap and travel to chase the roadrunner
He could’ve saved himself the trouble
And bought himself a pizza
Johnny quest always looked mod
In a turtleneck sweater
daphne was the eye-candy, but
velma was the prototype for the
Feminist, the opinionated woman
Though she was a plain jane
But she had tig o bitties
velma was smart when being smart
Wasn’t cool for girls

Saturday mornings, I ate big bowls of
Cereal, sometimes at mom’s house
Sometimes, at dad’s
I thought my dad was smarter than
The average dad

Bugs bunny made being an anti-authority
Figure cool; he taught me all about life
With a queen’s accent
The schoolhouse rocked when blossom dearie
The jazz diva with the little girl voice,
Explained how adjectives were used
In a sentence
Some Saturday morning, mom cooked breakfast
As a lowly bill explained his sisphyean quest
To become law; and succeeded against all odds

Godzilla was a tortured soul
But he always came out victorious

The villain would’ve gotten away with it, too
If it hadn’t been for those meddling kids
And that dog
But shaggy was my favorite
Casey Kasem was his voice
When he wasn’t counting down
Top 40 hits on pop radio
Or making long distance dedications

go go gadget, and a watch could
stop a bomb from smashing into earth
just a few weeks ago, apple introduced a watch
inspector gadget would love

c –bear was the teddy bear with soul
but I always preferred peanuts,,,
snoopy was the rock star beagle
but Charlie brown was my spiritual twin

I’ve always had a soft spot for underdogs…

Scranton, Pa

I keep thinkin about a
Dancer
She kinda reminds me
Of the one in elton’s
Song
Tiny like a snowflake
But moves like a
Wish
This tiny dancer has
Starlight in her breath
And holds jazz in her
Wings
I bury my face between
Her breasts
And find milk and honey
There
They say to sing is to pray
With sound
To dance is become
Lightening
To hold a dancer is to
Embrace fire

For M.M.E…

__________________________________________________________________

About Erren Kelly

A former Ray’s Road Review contributor, Erren Kelly received his BA in English/Creative Writing from Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge. He is a Pushcart-nominated poet from Portland, Oregon.  He has been writing for 25 years and has over 150 publications in print and online, in such publications as Hiram Poetry Review, Mudfish, Poetry Magazine (online), Ceremony, Cactus Heart, Similar Peaks, Gloom Cupboard, Poetry Salzburg, and other publications. His most recent publication was in The Rain Party and Disaster Society. He has also been published in anthologies such as Fertile Ground and Beyond The Frontier. His work can also been seen on YouTube under the “Gallery Cabaret” link.