Kelly

Kelly's Poems

Kelly 2004 taken at Little Trout Lake, K. I. Sawyer, MI

Index

Poems About My Life (New Poem added June 2009)

The Mystical Poems

Historical Poems

Halloween Poems

Limericks (Not filthy just funny!)

Poems About My Life

These poems come from various times in my life.

1. St. Bartholomew Elementary Detroit, MI (taken off an old school folder)

2. Miss Fisher's 6th Grade Class 1977-1978

In the above photo, I'm in the 4th Row 6th picture.

Class of 1980

by Kelly Steed

We weren’t born of the same parents,

But we are of the same blood.

Girls and boys of different colors

Brought together to form one.

The Rams of St. Bartholomew Elementary!

More than a school,

It became our home,

And no one wanted to leave it

When we had grown.

High school separated us,

College and careers scattered us,

But we never forgot,

Those images of people graven on our hearts.

The Rams of St. Bartholomew Elementary!

Author Comments:

Before we graduated, a number of us tried to get our principal

Sister Albina to take the upper part of the junior high (closed due

to declining enrollment), and parts of the convent that weren't being used

anymore, and open a high school for us. We wanted that last four years together.

Janette Dolenga came up with the plan and it was resoundingly

endorsed by the rest of us girls! (Janette can be seen in the class composite

photo below the sixth person in the first row.)

The concern my class showed for me when I was nearly kidnapped on my way to school

in 6th Grade saved me from taking my life due to the abuse I was suffering at home.

They never knew I was in danger of dying! Sometimes just showing that you care makes

all the difference. Love you guys! We are truly a FAMILY! I have since searched

for them and located 17. We've had a number of small reunions with more planned in

the future and our in constant touch. St. Bartholomew was a very special place and I

never saw its like in any other school I attended or worked at as a substitute teacher.

I believe that was due to our venerated Saint!

Some of our classmates are still M.I.A. if you happen to be one of them or related to one

please contact me thesteedzone@verizon.net. We'd love to see you again!

St. Bartholomew School

St Bartholomew in the News:

Detroit Catholics 'stand up' by Joe Kohn The Michigan Catholic March 23, 2007

Passion Play Gives Students a Chance to Learn About Jesus by Joe Kohn The Michigan Catholic April 6, 2007

1. Mrs. Boike/Sister Pelagia's 7th Grade Class St. Bartholomew Elementary Detroit, MI

2. Class of 1980 graduation announcement St. Bartholomew Church Paper (Courtesy of Koko Sztajer)

St. Bartholomew School

Dear Leslie

By Kelly Steed

So which star are you in the night sky?

Are you the luminous one; that always makes me cry?

What would we have been like you and I,

Had I not been so caught up in my relationship of lies?

I’m sorry I wasted the time we could have shared,

But all the abuse I took from others had made me scared.

The sand in your hourglass ran out so quick,

Loose grains scattered across time’s dark abyss.

Your funeral was such a sad day,

My heart bled and tears fell like torrential rain.

Did you realize that I loved you, even then?

Or are angels as blind as mortal men?

Published in the August 3, 2002 Edition of A Light In The Window Ezine

published by Jassmine.com

Author Comments:

Leslie Cox is the third person in first row of the above class composite. He approached me

twice saying, "It's Happy Valen-Times!" It was Easter. He must have been nervous because

he drug John Kennerly along for support. John is in the 4th Row the 4th person. There

was another guy in my life outside of school. He was a manipulator and I didn't break

completely free of him until I was a sophomore in high school.

I spent my freshman year at St. Lads. I didn’t want to go there in the first place and as expected

I hated it. I was determined not to spend four years there. Things had also gotten bad at home again

and I wanted out. Even though I was allowed to transfer to St. Clement my sophomore

year, I saw no reason to change my plans to take my life. I had everything planned

to the last detail. Then one day about two months before my plan was to go into

effect; Leslie and I stood together to defend a fellow Ram and everything changed for me.

Something passed between us once the crisis had passed and the pain just vanished

and I flushed the sleeping pills (half a sandwich baggy) down he toilet when I got home.

Leslie was murdered our junior year. When he died, I thought about going too.

I was mad because I felt St. Bartholomew should have protected him. It

seemed so senseless. Here was someone who wanted to live but was taken. I

had been someone wanted to die but I was spared.

It took a while but I finally realized that I must have been spared for

some purpose and decided to find it and I did! I'll never forget him!

Sweet Remembrances

By Kelly Steed

Giggles and smiles
Hasten across the miles
As remembrances come
Of childhood’s reckless abandon
In our make believe land and time
We were Kings, Queens and Knights of the Round
Soldiers, Sailors and Patty Cake Makers
Feeling and healing and wise
Bedecked in costumes and chivalry
Allies and enemies
Standing across a battlefield
Lost in the intimacy of the game
But friends ever always
Missed, Loved and Lost
Still think of us
From time to time
And that carefree land of rhyme
Where our dreams carried us
Hope to reunite,
And wrap ourselves in sweet remembrances
Of the childhood we shed and lost.

Copyright Kelly Steed 2000. All Rights Reserved.

Author Comments: This poem is dedicated with love to all the re-enactors I grew-up with.

If you are one of them, contact me.

Puppets of An Older Age

by Kelly Steed

You stand, bound and gagged,

In the land of the free.

Government afforded liberties,

Denied you, by your family.

They make the rules,

That must be obeyed.

They are the monarchs,

Of this day and age.

True freedom is a luxury,

Afforded very few.

Those who dare to break the mold,

And cast a new.

If their love is conditional,

Then just walk away.

For you are an American,

Only Congress you need obey.

Author Comments: This is about my family and their imperious attitudes.

Assumptions

by Kelly Steed

Why do people always think the worst of me?

Is it because I am sensitive, and easily cry?

Do they enjoy wounding with their lies?

Why do they put words in my mouth,

Assuming what I’ll do?

I never gave them cause,

To think I would be so cruel.

None of them know the real me,

The one that’s buried deep inside,

Held back by the sores,

No thread can bind.

My opinion is never consulted.

They’ve already determined my guilt

And condemned me.

Well, I’m not the person,

You want me to be.

Look in the mirror,

You’ll find the one you seek.

Author Comments: This is about my family and their imperious attitudes. I hate when people

make assumptions about me and have always bowed my horned RAM head and fought to prove

them wrong.

Childhood’s Trauma

by Kelly Steed

As a helpless child I endured the screaming red face,

And all the attacks on my personal grace;

Try as I might the bad dreams still come,

Paralyzed with fear, I hide away, meek and dumb;

For years I concealed pain that knew no bounds,

Suffering in silence, not knowing up from down;

I’m in a box fighting to get free,

Watching the world on bended knee;

Wishing that one day my pain would pass,

So that I could live a normal life at last.

Editor's Choice Award Winner, 1996
National Library of Poetry
Tomorrow Never Knows

Copyright © 1996 Kelly Steed all Rights Reserved.

Author Comments: This is based on my home life as a child.

The Sin of Silence

by Kelly Steed

Touched in private places,

They can still remember their faces.

The shock and horror never fades,

It grows inside into a rage.

Carried for their lives,

Because they couldn’t stop the pain;

They didn’t understand,

So how could they explain?

That’s the sin of silence,

The stain a victim must wear.

Because their parents left them in ignorance,

Such a painful cross to bear.

Editor's Choice Award Winner
National Library of Poetry
Best Poems of 1996

Copyright © 1997 Kelly Steed all Rights Reserved.

Author Comments: This poem is based on events that took place in a public school

before I attended St. Bartholomew.

Latch-Key Kid

by Kelly Steed

Day after day,
Of the same monotonous routine.
School, then home,
Alone with the TV.

The dog,
Happy someone’s home,
Falls asleep under the bed.
Alone, once again, with the TV.

Boredom and depression,
Cut off from games and play,
Life passes by the window.
Alone with the TV.

Phone call,
A brief respite,
Ends all too quickly.
Alone, once again, with the TV.

Author Comments: This poem is about my childhood home life.

The Nowhere Girl

By Kelly Steed

Too good for one,

Not good enough for the other,

Instead I fit nicely in the cracks.

I’m the nowhere girl!

Not meant to be loved

Just used and thrown away

It’s a curse to be me.

I’m the nowhere girl who hates to be seen!

Ridiculed and tormented from the time I came alive

There’s no room in a box to thrive.

Parent, teacher, lover, friend

They all come out the same in the end.

Kick me when I’m down

Never let me rise

I’m not worthy;

I’m to be despised.

No one cares if my soul is damaged in the mix.

All they want is their just licks.

It makes them feel powerful and brave

To trample the naïve little knave.

I’m the nowhere girl!

There’s only one way to remove my pain

With a very sharp serrated blade!

After all I’ll never be just right

Always too much to the left or right!

Author Comments: Being a teenager and being different really blew chunks!!! This poem also reflects

my home environment and some of the relationships I had in college both romantic and otherwise.

Quandary

by Kelly Steed

I am split between the two,
Torn, acid or alkaline.
One, life saving energy,
The other mind-blowing pain.
Which do I cling to?
Which do I cast aside?

The game's the confusion,
The rules change at whim.
No hand is tipped,
Poker faces in place.
The game's their addiction,
They revel in the pain.

I can't afford to guess,
With my life at stake!
Trust, where do I place it?
Which is the acid?
Which is the alkaline?
Each trade places,
Dancing, their vile dance.
Do I dare risk a guess?

American Poetry Annual, 1996
the Amherst Society

Copyright © 1995 Kelly Steed all Rights Reserved.

Author Comments: This poem is about my childhood home life.

Incubus

By Kelly Steed

Hidden in human form behind a handsome face,

You know the right words to seal my fate.

Cruelty matched with kindness, you keep the score

Dangling on the edge, I return for more.

An overburdened heart and mind has made me far from wise

In my weakness, I fall easy victim to your lies.

Through all your torments and charities, I bent but did not break.

My vulnerable appeal now lost to you, I’m cast aside because you I cannot sate.

Now you troll for a new girl

To loose more of your demon sense out into the world.

Author Comments: This poem is dedicated to three males, I won't call them men, who at

different stages of my life caused great harm to my psyche. Never forgiven and never forgotten!

Incubus: The Undoing

By Kelly Steed

The spell is broken

Reality revealed,

As I retreat from the field.

Spared, to live another day

To send my heart back into love’s fray.

More learned,

Perhaps, harder than steel

Wisdom bears a stronger seal.

Grateful for memory’s armor

Able to unmask the poisonous charmer,

And see the soul behind the body and the mind.

Author Comments: Though I learned a lot from those males; I

would have preferred that our paths had never crossed.

Incubus: The Return (NEW)

By Kelly Steed

Mistakes of the past,

Can’t escape them!

They come back to torment and tease,

With misery so sickeningly sweet!

Old scars that burst and bleed,

Always aim to please.

Egomaniac you are a curse,

Damn your retched birth!

Suck the marrow out of the one, who bares your ring,

And let ME rest in peace.

What’s past is past,

Put it back in it’s grave,

No more haunt your former naïve!

I cast you out,

Demon of the handsome face!

This heart’s a closed gate.

Author’s Note: Who's got the POWER now?

Tenth Virginia Light Infantry

by Kelly Steed

With fierce determination and pride,

They stand steadfast against the enemy’s tide.

Black helmeted warriors,

Draped in Blue and Red,

Never fear their blood being shed.

For their cause is noble,

For their cause is true,

Freedom’s at stake,

Give the red devils their due.

All for one,

And one for all,

No harm comes to one,

Lest they all should fall.

Born of a virgin,

Bonded by blood and flesh,

They are a family,

Truer than the rest.

With fife and drum,

Their flag unfurled,

Into battle they trod,

To make their mark on the world.

Covered by artillery,

Its iron fist chooses their way,

They repulse the enemy,

By the end of the day.

Author Comments: I wrote this about the re-enactment regiment Richard

and I belonged to when we fell in love. My perception of them was that

on the whole they were the regiment most like the soldiers who fought in

the Revolutionary War, whereas in the others, it was only certain individuals.

Obviously, I was wrong. Soldiers within a regiment depend on one another

for their lives, a closer relationship than a family yields because of the

danger. I thought that we'd always be together; but while I was away at

college they had a falling out and broke up. I was devastated! I've tried to

reconnect with some of them; but they are unresponsive.

Richard

By Kelly Steed

When he looks at me,

He captures my soul.

Once glance,

And my story is told.

I am held transfixed,

Time passes leaving me unaware.

His love for me binds my soul,

Yet it sets me free.

His eyes hold intense emotion,

When he looks at me.

Published in the anthology The Best Poems of 1997 (Water Mark Press, 1997).

Author’s Comments:

Richard was written about my husband.

Walking Wounded

By Kelly Steed

Private pain,

Buried deep,

Open wounds that bleed and seep.

Walking wounded

Just trying to survive.

Unable to handle all the adult jive,

As they fight to escape childhood’s cage,

Teenagers abuse others with their rage.

Walking wounded, hear my plea!

Trading pain by inflicting it, is not the way

It will torment your soul at the end of your days.

Open up your steely vault.

Stop hiding behind a mask.

Talking it out is the task.

Author’s Comments:

After twenty years, I was finally able to talk to two of my high school tormenters and found out

that they were in just as much pain as I was. All three of us were suffering for different

reasons and it manifested in a bad situation for all concerned. One guy had problems

at home and the other was being bothered at school. It’s funny because I always

thought they had it so together but it was just an illusion created by their masks.

This poem is respectfully dedicated to the two St. Clement Crusaders I once considered bitter enemies

and now just distant friends.

To any teenagers reading this poem, if you are suffering such searing pain in your heart, get it out.

Talk to someone you trust. Don’t turn it on others! It’s not worth the pain it will cause them nor is it

worth the pain it will cause you to remember what you’d done!

Dream Lover

by Kelly Steed

Why do you vex me in my slumber

Come to me and tear me asunder?

Professing love yet causing pain

Warlock you are creating my bane!

I pray the memories of these trysts will fade with day,

But before I awake, they’ve branded me for a good long stay.

How do I fight a man with remote access to me?

Knowing the right neuro-centers to press should be a felony,

I love you! I hate you! My soul’s duality

Making me a humble captive betwixt and between sanity.

We have fantasy versions of each for the other

But truth breaks illusions causing the weaver to smother.

You know as well as I

You can’t base a relationship on a lie.

Roll the bones to caste anew

Fortune’s future rests on you.

The Mystical Poems

Full Circle

By Kelly Steed

Open your mind and eyes,

A beautiful world around you lies.

Learn from your experiences,

And store the knowledge away,

For you’ll need it someday.

Learning is what life is all about!

Build onto each successive layer,

Keeping an eye on the other players.

Observe, inquire, and grow

Increase knowledge wherever you can,

Be ye woman or be ye man.

Guard it and keep it close to your heart!

For this knowledge can help you advance,

Closer to perfection and reunion with the great expanse.

Then you’ll be able to penetrate every level;

And nudge others toward the proper direction,

As others did for you in the past with affection.

You will have come full circle back to the One!

Author Comment: This poem is about my belief in reincarnation.

Mercy’s Lament

By Kelly Steed

Come brave soldier and find succor upon my breast

For I will calm you, help you rest

I’m termed Angel, but they call me Mercy.

Though I often wonder, what Mercy am I?

When I sit by a soldier’s side just to watch him die?

I can’t help but question why?

In their delirium, I take the shape of the woman they love

A small kiss to fevered lips allows the soul’s release

From tormented flesh too weak for existence to be.

I pity the officers who must write

To the families of their loved one’s plight

Damning their souls’ to tormented blight.

Never to see their loved one again

Grief and anger make bitter friends

And festering wounds that will not mend.

If they survived the battle, why not the war?

Why does God need to take so many more?

Is He even keeping score?

Buried often in foreign fields

Graves like scars that never truly healed

Like the souls that wonder unwilling to yield.

To time’s impediment

They relive their deeds

As my helpless heart bleeds.

Author Comments: This poem is dedicated to military nurses and all the boys they lost.

Rejoined

by Kelly Steed

The building looked familiar,

As I stood upon the hill

I felt a certain thrill.

A home I had left under another name

Until Death staked his claim.

It enfolded me in its peace

Though it was in disarray

Not like in my day

When it was shorn up and spotless.

A place where sick soldiers rested their heads;

And I, their nurse, nestled them in their beds

With the affection of lover to beloved.

Heading up the main hall

I spotted a form, all in white

A man I knew immediately on sight,

And he with great relief recognized me.

Our hands touched and we entwined

The love we shared still binds,

Though nearly a century and a half had passed.

Neither time nor death shall put astray

True lovers and their loving ways.

Author Comments: This poem is about my belief in reincarnation

and one of my past lives as told to me by an 1830's era ghost.

Remnants of War

by Kelly Steed

When men die in war,
They don’t always leave.
Some get trapped,
In the passion and the greed.
Lost souls,
Wandering in the mist,
Ever searching for their final rest.

Time passes,
Leaving them further behind.
They stand mutely by,
Watching later generations die.
No one can hear their silent cries,
Learn from us and our mistakes.
Take to heart our struggle,
And release the hate.

Snowfall's Dread

by Kelly Steed

Skidding and spinning
Skating on thin ice
Slipping and sliding
Out of control
Break free of the Earth’s gravitational hold.

Twisting, turning, wheels over roof
I take flight
Somersaulting in mid-air
Wrapped in an etheric shroud
Feeling no fear.

Approach the crystalline veil
At a high rate of speed
Jerked backwards
Before it shatters
By fluttering wings.

Lying on the ceiling
Looking up at the floor
I come to rest
Grounded once more.

Copyright © 2000 Kelly Steed all rights reserved.

Published in America At The Millennium

National Library of Poetry, 2000

Author Comments: This poem is based on actual events. My freshman year of college eight

friends and I were in a rollover accident on our way back to school. I fractured my lower back

and two of my friends had sprained ankles. The police were shocked that there weren't any

fatalities or life altering injuries since six of us were seated on the van floor with the luggage. They

decided that the luggage saved us. Not quite! I saw the guardian angels who saved us, and though

the others didn't see them, they were all well aware that someone had intervened on our behalf.

The line "By fluttering wings." is poetic license because these angels were sporting frock coats

not wings. The less esoteric side of this accident can be found in the Society for The Preservation

of the Imagination (SPI) Club History at the below link.

Siege of Fort Meigs, May 1813

by Kelly Steed

I can feel it all around,
As the sound comes trickling down.
From their lofty position on high,
The battle rages on.
Neither side will yield,
In the ghostly reenactment.
Taking place in fort and field.
The anger and frustration,
Open a ripple in time,
Captured forever in that place.
It replays itself over again,
Until the moment passes,
Back into time’s circular abyss.
To lie dormant,
Until activated again.

Author Comments: This poem is about the indelible mark tragic events leave

on the land where they occurred.

Trapped In Time

by Kelly Steed

Out beyond the entrenchment
A shadowed figure awaits
He reaches across time and space
Through the darkness, through the fog,
He searches for someone to aid his cause.

He was a soldier once
Who stood proud and true,
Heeded his country’s call,
Paid his dues;
But now he walks a restless watch
Unable to cope with Dudley’s deadly botch.
A lot of good friends died that day
Men who went willingly into the fray
For god and country they gambled it all
And came up short because their commander had no gall.

“Release my pain!” He cried.
“Never let America forget lest we really die!
Learn our lesson and learn it well
Be prepared always, for the future you can’t foretell
Or you could find yourself trapped, just like me
In an awful memory.”

Author Comments: This poem is dedicated to the soldiers who lost their lives at

Fort Meigs in 1813 and those still on guard, especially William Golding.

The Elemental

by Kelly Steed

Unable to become flesh,

I envy the physical world;

And try to find ways to mesh.

I prey on the weak-minded,

I like to control.

I manipulate their thoughts, inserting my own;

I push them into an emotional frenzy;

Then I hang on for the ride.

Their passions feed me energy,

And make me feel like I am alive.

Once I’ve got them,

I am hard to shake.

I use them up like a battery,

Then move on to the next likely candidate.

Author Comments: One member of the Spiritual Hierarchy gone bad.

The Historical Poems

Lexington

by Kelly Steed

Standing bravely against the British tide
We will not lose, that we cannot abide
It will begin now, here, with us
The alarm must be spread
The British are coming it's fight, we must
They've taxed us by the pound
And forced us to march to their own sound
"Here they come boys! Stand and hold your ground!"
For this day we make history, our courage has been found
And no one will say the Americans, ever, just lay down.

Published in Poetic Voices of America
Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum, Inc., 1996.

Copyright © 1996 Kelly Steed Collective Works VI all rights reserved.

Rise and Fight Again

by Kelly Steed

Angered that they had come back again,
Back to the land where they had already been.
We’d beat them then, fair and square,
But they never let go, that much was clear.
“We’re not your colony!” I wanted to scream.
“We’re free men, that wasn’t a dream!”
I was there and fought once before;
And I cried then never more!
We’re not your slaves, you bloody red-backed devils!
We’re Americans and we’ve measured your level!
You can’t win, you may as well turn back for home;
For Kentucky has joined the fray, and no more shall you roam.

Author Comments: This poem is dedicated to William Golding, veteran of the American Revolution

and the War of 1812, and to all those who rose and fought again.

Asleep in Our Beds

by Kelly Steed

Oil rises to the surface
A cry from those below
Remember us to all who do not know
Hey boys, don't let it happen again!
We'd like to think our deaths taught you something
in the end
Never concentrate your forces in one place
Never fool yourself into thinking that you're safe
Friend can become enemy in the blink of an eye
Watch your back or you'll surely die
Let the Arizona be your guide
Remember her sacrifice and those who within her
lie
For we look up to you from the water's depths
"Preserve America!" Our dying breath.

Editor's Choice Award Winner
National Library of Poetry
Published in At Water's Edge

Author Comments: On May 8, 1995, I had the incredible honor of presenting a copy of my poem

to James W. Green, an Arizona survivor, at a 50th Anniversary of VE Day program at the Mount

Clemens Public Library Auditorium. GM3c Green was on the Arizona that morning he had just

come up on deck when a bomb ignited the magazine blowing him and a few others free of the

deck saving some of their lives. James succumbed to cancer a few years back and is now buried

with his shipmates. I know that he carried my words to them!

Halloween Poems
(My favorite holiday!)

Kelly Age 2

Vampire Haiku

By Kelly Steed

Hagatha

By Kelly Steed

Witchy, Witchy

Maiden of doom,

Witchy, Witchy

House of gloom!

Witchy, Witchy

Cats and Frogs,

Witchy, Witchy

Born in a bog.

Witchy, Witchy

Legend of fall,

Witchy, Witchy

Tales told tall.

Witchy, Witchy

Hag of a face!

Witchy, Witchy

What a disgrace!

Witchy, Witchy

Potion or curse?

Witchy, Witchy

Sing me a verse!

Witchy, Witchy

Boil a brew!

Witchy, Witchy

No one loves you!

Witchy, Witchy

Cold and alone,

Witchy, Witchy

Bitter old crone!

Author Comments: This poem is about the traditional Halloween witch. It is in no way

intended to offend any practicing witches or Wicca or any other tradition.

All Hallow’s Eve

By Kelly Steed

Bubble Bubble,

Toil and Trouble,

Night of Witches,

Ethereal glitches.

The dead walk close,

To those beloved the most.

Messages are spoken,

In whispered croaks.

They tell their stories,

And speak of past glories,

Imparting lessons learned

With credits earned.

Issue warnings,

Of future mournings,

In the hope of casting anew

To fortune’s attentive few.

Still your heart and your voice,

You may be communications choice.

When spirits walk on All Hallow’s Eve,

Open up and believe!

Author Comments: I borrowed the first two lines from William Shakespeare's Macbeth.

Limericks

The Brothers

by Kelly Roberts (Steed)

There once was a man named Moe,

Who had a brother named Joe.

Joe thought he was cupid,

And Moe was just plain stupid.

They both were a couple of schmoes!

Authors Comments: I wrote this back in high school for an English class.

Dinner at Mom’s

by Kelly Steed

I felt like I’d pop at the seams.

So I took a walk down by the stream.

Picnickers offered me a treat,

My cheeks flushed with heat.

My stomach rebelled in a chunky scream!

Author Comments: I wrote for a bit of fun. I saw a commercial on television and this just

popped into my head.

Kelly Steed was the featured poet for May 2002 at Jassmine.com.

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