E. Lloyd Kelly

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About E. Lloyd Kelly

Hello there, E. Lloyd Kelly, Author, poet, and podcaster at inkyitalk.com. Born in Jamaica, W.I. to Raglan, and Alma Kelly.

Attend Jackson All-Age School and Jose Marti Secondary School.

Now resides in Montreal Quebec, Canada.

Married with 1 son

Works as a shuttle bus driver at McGill University

And a blogger at http://elloydkelly.weebly.com/

Credits As:

Author: The Shirt Depot, Backsliding, How to train a wild puppy dog named, Manley, 76, Clancy's journey, Some Shitty Vacation, Spaces: My Space, Your Space and the Public Space, Waters of Silver Springs,

Black blood.

Poet: Prelude, Born for this and The Road, among many others. Some of these may be found on YouTube and other social media forums

A Songwriter; (of sorts) many original pieces are floating around on youtube. I also

likes to write and will continue doing so for as long as I can

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Titles By E. Lloyd Kelly

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Poetic Just Ice. Cold. : A collection of short stories and poems of the times. Feb 8, 2021

by E Lloyd Kelly

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A wannabe entertainer-turned gang-banger used to hang out with the musicians jamming on the corner. Showing off his car parked there outside the bar beside her, when she’s not inside and listening to hear what else he’s got to share and surprise her. That’s where the shot was heard, Shannon hasn’t spoken another word since the big happening, weird. Stories from his early childhood through to the present day. Told with wry humor, poetry, and snippets of Jamaican patios inserted here and there as may be appropriate. Yeah man, a Jamaica yaad wi cum fram. Sorry, I meant to say, we're Jamaican born and bred -okay?
Access previous short stories and poems-of-the-times by author and poet E Lloyd Kelly in this book called poetic just ice, cold. Let’s show them the ropes, not only do we read, but Jamaican writers write great stories and poems too. Don’t miss out on this great read. A funny Jamaican book of short stories and poems by author E Lloyd Kelly.
Montreal's Jamaican-born author and poet, E Lloyd Kelly, drops this hard-hitting book of poetry and short stories called, "Poetic Just-Ice, Cold. If you like Khalil Gibran and Tom Bissell, then you'll like this book. Very topical poems about social issues. A dark, twisted, and funny comedy novel, mostly true and personal stories. Hilarious! Yet it's thought-provoking.

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How to train a wild puppy dog named Manley : If all men are dogs, who is the best dog trainer to teach these pups those cunning, clever dog tricks? Jun 18, 2020

by E Lloyd Kelly

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Monday, August 6th, 2012. Downtown Montreal Quebec. Still got me twenty minutes to go before I got done with this job and moved on to the next. She needs to get her welding done. And I? I’ve been putting off the oil change thing for way too long too. Even a rickety old car needs its regular oil change. Right?
So there I was, still reeling from the loss of my marriage to Aylene. And flogging myself black and blue for having gone so badly off track in that arena. Life had suddenly begun to shine a light of hope in my direction again. My business was taking off. And I was, like, doing okay at the self-improvement thing one might say. But old habits tend to die hard, so there I was. Back down the road which leads right back to the lifestyle of my teenage past. Back to my old ways, back to my old puppy dog ways. Messing around with a girl I didn’t know that well. Didn’t really like. And sure as hell, didn’t want. But, she did have something that I really wanted back then, and badly so

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Backsliding: Chicken Soup from Heaven for What Ales a People May 10, 2020

by E Lloyd Kelly

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Backsliding is the uncensored story of how one man was to get himself kicked out of the Black Christian church, and for what? Yes, that. These are the stories about the faith, religious beliefs and fiercely guarded secrets of some boat peoples, stowaways, and other wind-rush generations types of peoples, beliefs about the gods which they carried with them, or those which they were to have picked up along the way, and how those things, those gods even, how those and other such things had served them or did disservices to them in the new worlds wherever they had happened to settle throughout the years. Learn all of the truth, the facts, half-truths, and other convincing, or not so convincing arguments. Based on Real-life stories. Born out of the experience, observations, and participation, reluctant though these participants might have been. The old man had been sitting there and watching, watching and listening, and hearing, and seeing, and now it’s his time to speak, he is now going to give us his take on what he has seen and heard so far. He was to have looked and seen what had happened to the brother. It was nothing really, not in the grand schemes of things, but. His thought on the matter now is that the brother was probably searching. Searching for something, something bigger than himself, something he could believe in. He was to have seen a lot. He saw them a-coming too. In coming, they came, bringing all that which they’ve got with them. And taking too, from me and from you, a handsome price they had was to pay for the con thing, I mean, for the kind of things which they are known to do. Peddling lies, dreams, and heaven too. The old man is here now, giving his views on some things, Hear him. Hear now what the old man has to say. Truth or Dare? Go figure. No, don’t go. Come along with us, and you may begin to figure, in this: The uncensored stories of some of the acutely over-churched peoples. Here now is the story. Note: Where the context so requires, the feminine includes the masculine and the singular includes the plural. Additionally, because this is directed towards addressing an issue which is particular to a certain type of people, tiny snippets of words and phrases tend to slip in here and there more or less like seasoning for the pot, and which may be specific to this group. However, nine times out of ten, it’s just there for emphasis, if one should lift those out, it would not affect the story any, since the proper phrases would have already been there. Excerpt. It was some savage beast from a wilderness theme. Which would have bitten the brother hard in the crust of his blood-stream, oh, how he cried out, oh how the brother was to scream. But none was to be found worthy to reach out and save him, so it would seem. He had was to cry out yet the more, he had was to curse, just to stop himself from popping open, blow up, and burst. Could he find you doing the wrong thing though? When upon his imminent returning, he should find you and me, like, drifting, drifting away? Like some of us have been oft seen to be doing these days. Even while doing all of those other things and in the ways. Like, while you are there a-lean, lean, leaning? Leaning on the wrong side of everything? Of course not you, but...

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The Shirt Depot: Exploring the adventures of Prickly Pole. Sep 28, 2019

by The-poet

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Day eleven: Frozen solids Zero degree temperature, his balls point pen has frozen up wither, again. And yet up again some more is the door to the very same one, you know, the pen is what we are here talking about, right? The one which he had planned on leaving in his will and testament tonight, locked up and secured, tight, left as a legacy handed down to his children. And to their children’s children after them. But now he's beginning to doubt if it even will ever pan out and happen, after what had just happened, to him. They would have seen him there, he was walking sort of funny through the square but, they didn't really care like, as to what was the reason. But there, look, look at it again, yes, you can actually see it all if you but just stop and look, as though through the looking backing memory lens, see! They are turning around to book the cook, yes man that one is a big-time chef in this neck of the nook. So, there they go and looking all over the brook, and laughing. Laugh as much as you like. Your day is certainly coming, mate, or going to be bright. Right.

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The Sword, the Word, and Books of Rules: Move along, nothing here to see, just a mocking motley fool, and some poetry Jun 20, 2019

by E Lloyd Kelly

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The sword, the word, and books of rules is a satirical socio-political drama with a liberal dash of humor, wit, and a very funny dose of social commentary. Move along, nothing here to see, just a mocking motley fool. And some poetry It all started and happened in a fictitious Earth-like world called Kingsland, in a time period encompassing the sixteenth to the 23rd century. So now, the old man is looking on and seeing things, and hearing by way of his ever listening ear, and this is what he is about to hear. He would have been around for quite a long time, long enough to enable him to see all of the happenings. Now the task has fallen plumb onto him to do the records and to tell the stories. So you want something unique and different? This is it. This is not your typical girl meets boy winning the joy character hopping plot wrapping sweetie flick bit. This is an analytical look at a book, bookings, and crooks. As well as some… Gods. Here's an excerpt: The discussion as it was to be remembered. Was highly geared at cruising speed, in a private chamber. Counting the words now, behind one pointy finger. Just the way he likes it to be sometimes, like, like, this time - for instance. Wiseman was to be taking his in-stance, taking his preferred, better winning stance. "What, was, it, -tell me? What was the thing that would have brought them here… pulling a puff on his smoking pipe now, before blowing smoke in the air and continuing on with the questioning song… in the first place?" Mr. Wiseman would have asked this, straight-faced. He was to come up with an answer before anyone else there proper. “A job!” That's what Mister Wiseman heard. Turning his neck a quarter Bab, he was to lock faces up with the nerd. Wiseman would have responded in sobs. Huh. Oh. Right, right you are Mister Anserley. Right you are. And what is that thing that has kept them here for all of this time… pausing again to take other puffs on the source of his brown teeth grime. …instead of returning em backside back home to the place from whence they first came? A job –they still have jobs –no! Good high-paying jobs? No? You know. Sir Anserley, they never did give you the respect properly, respect you so rightly deserve. You are quite a brilliant lad. Brilliant indeed. Wow, take a nod, will you? Now, if Mister Anserley here is correct, and the records will show that he is, you bet. What then is that thing, that thing which is most likely to have them on the next shipping plane language, or training programs sandwich, anything, anything at all going, going out of here again? He would have pointed this question squarely at all of the rest of them there, and dearly. Ah, a job, I mean, not having a job? The answer was to come from the backside of him since he was all the while a-turning and seeking some cohesive answers out of the rest of the other them, while he was speaking. Right, you are right again, Anes. Facing up to the now red-faced Ainsworth always-answering Anserley. My dear Chap. It seems as if you are the only one around here who did bother to put on the cap, putting it upon the gap. You know! Thinking kind of a cap. It did seem to us as if no one else, none of the other dimwit belts, none of them seemed to have wanted in on it, they just weren't getting in on the answering game bit. But then came the butting. Talking talks about nothing. But, but. Butted in another natty nut. Yes Sir, yes Mister Nattoo Smart. But we, we, I mean, they, don’t they have jobs? I mean. They do have jobs here, more jobs are here than there are people to fill them as a matter of fact. No? Yes, yes Mister Smartass, sorry, I meant to say, Mister Nattoo Smart, but things do change from time to time, don’t they? Things do have a way of changing along the way, isn’t it so mister Smart? And that is where we, you know, people like us, that is where we come in.

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Casting Shadow on the Tattoo Trail: In Search of the Lost Genodes Sep 19, 2021

by E Kelly

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Long, long ago in a faraway land, the land of the mighty Cekko peoples. There was an order established in the realms of the great kings which could not be altered. Although the kings never died, they had to transition to another much higher realm. This after having served their people for a period in the lower realm, and after having attained the level of mastery necessary to function and serve in the most exalted realm. This is where every one of them longed to be, they all aspire to be there without exception, in the most exalted realm. This is where the current king, King Liam, is going next. But not before the next in line: his son, Bauctnumboulei, ascends to the Cekko throne. While he was still very young, though, Cespedoran and friends grabbed the Genodes pellets and ran. Or so the story goes. Until the pellets are found and returned to the kingdom, the king’s son is (for all intents and purposes,) dead. Therefore, he cannot and will not reign in Cekkoland. An agent was chosen and sent out to find and return those kingdom pieces of jewelry home, but…

Casting Shadow on the Tattoo Trail is a work of fiction. Born out of some fool’s wild imagination and told in wry humor, metaphoric terms, and a feeble attempt at poetry. Yes, word-play is the order-of-the-day around here too. With snippets of Jamaican Patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting. Yeah man, a Jamaica yaad mi cum from, sorry, I meant to say, I’m Jamaican born and bred -okay?

Other Formats: Hardcover , Paperback

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How to train A wild puppy dog named, Manley: If all men are dogs, who is the best🐕 trainer to teach these puppies those clever cunning puppy dog tricks? May 7, 2018

by E Lloyd Kelly

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How to train a wild puppy dog named, Manley, is a work of fiction.
A coming of age story, hardcore romance novel, Jamaican Yardie-style. Pack full of wry humor, metaphoric terms, ambiguity, and innuendos, for your reading pleasure.
…Some excerpt from several passages in the book…
While she spoke, she was undoing the buttons on my shirt, I gazed at the firm and full round breast there just bouncing and begging, was just about to reach out and take a hold and a gluttonous bite out of-em too but then I recalled that she was nursing, it's probably why they were looking so damn lushus and inviting but I still would not take anything away from how beautiful the woman looked.
The upper half of me, the sensible half: my head, my heart – to a lesser extent, and my mind told me to protest, not to be drawn into this dragnet, this trap. But my lower half, my over-actively sensual half wasn't cooperating, he just wanted to hop on the horse and go a-giddy-upping down the tracks, guess which half won out in the end?
Yep, you got it.
This dirty old puppy dog just hops on and went on riding along down the dead end track. This would become a regular routine over the next little while for us. Every time that the kids go off to their daddy's place, I hop on over to their place, where me… and… Mrs, Mrs. Jones, or was it Mrs. K? As in, Mrs. Kentise, has done got this red hot chili peppers-like thing going on. Until...
Libby came into the picture and spoiled everything, or did she?
The Millers wanted to do things to me, one wants to grind me, the other wants to grind me up, like mincemeat…
…Out of the blue, she called.
The raindrops were pitter-pattering on the window sills, what calming effects it had on me, it gets me every single time. It could as well rain every day for me, for all I cared, if it was only for this, (and a few other reasons.) But then came the interruption.
“Hello,” I answered the ringing telephone.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“I'm planting tulips,” I told her.
“Planting tulips? In this weather?”
“Yes, it's the best weather, best time and the best season for that didn't you know?”
“For planting tulips?”
“Yes, for planting tulips, as in, not one but two lips.”
She hanged up. Never did call back.
I couldn't suppress the laughter, no matter how hard I tried.
It was raining there too I was sure, there where she was, and it was obviously having the very same sort of effects on her mood, she needed company, the right kind of company. That was why she’d called me up, sorry Missie, those days are long gone…
…I still did have some unfinished business with Ms. Brodbendt, which needed some tending to.
On the Walk to the bus stop, I was singing away: I shot the Sherriff, but I did not shoot...
“What?” Bubbles Butted in, he wanted to know, “you did not shoot what? Ms. Brodbendt's furry old pussycat? You probably should have,” he said.
Cute, very cute...
…I had a bottle of bourbon in the cupboard so I went and fetched it. “We did plan on getting ourselves stoned tonight.” I said, “and since we never did manage to pull it off at the bar, we might as well just get it done in-house, there is nothing to stop us doing that, is there?”
“I don't suppose there is,” she said, so I popped it open. Poured one for her and one for me, we sat up in bed with our backs rest up against the headrails and supported by pillows as we sip the liquor.

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Espaces: My Space, votre espace et l'espace public (French Edition) Jan 4, 2018

by E. Lloyd Kelly

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Espaces: My Space, votre espace et l'espace public est un tell-all livre relatant les histoires, les histoires de route de Montréal. Suivez les histoires fascinantes de la vie comme un automobiliste, cycliste, piéton ou tout simplement un spectateur attentif dans et autour de la ville de Montréal , Québec et ses environs.
Certaines de ces anecdotes sont de retour avec un support visuel via des vidéos YouTube affichées lors d' un appel de la série; Poulet fou ou oeuf fou
qui vient en premier à Montréal au Québec? Poulet fou ou oeuf fou?

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Certains Shitty vacances: French edition Jan 4, 2018

by E Lloyd Kelly

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Certains Shitty vacances est une histoire fictive d'un tueur à gages vacances de la pègre de la drogue, qui se trouvait être aspirée dans la même situation qu'il essayait difficile d'échapper.
Son plan d'évacuation était à la fois pour le court, ainsi que le long terme, car il avait prévu d'utiliser ce (court terme) voyage à Montréal , Québec, à la recherche davantage le plan de rendez- vous à long terme, qu'il avait été compte tenu de ces derniers temps.
La route mène de Norfolk VA à Montréal, Québec. et le dos.
Mais certaines personnes ne peuvent tout simplement pas faire une pause, peuvent - ils?

Eaux de Silver Spring: Un recueil de poèmes et de nouvelles à leur sujet (French Edition) Jan 3, 2018

by E. Lloyd Kelly

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Il y aura des poèmes sur la vie, des poèmes sur la mort, des poèmes sur l' amour et des poèmes sur un grand nombre d'expériences variées de la vie entre les deux.
Voici un échantillon du genre de poèmes que vous attendez de trouver parmi eux.
Ce poème est une ode à l' appui de ceux qui ont perdu des êtres chers aux routes tout en honorant la vie et de la mémoire de ceux que nous avons perdu.
Voici un poème intitulé simplement: The Road
La route

de roses blanches Lilly, rose jaune et rouge des
fleurs fraîchement coupées empilés dans le faisceau
Monuments de sacrements au milieu des lumières scintillantes, de nombreuses bougies

offres Sincères des étrangers et ami
Pour celui dont la vie sur ce très endroit atteint son fin fatale ,

je les vois il un ours en peluche, sur les pelouses bien taillées, beaucoup de coin que
je les vois partout

bouquets et croix marquent les sites proches perd
ce pont une fois franchi signifie la perte de l' innocence et une autre mère pleure
soupire Papa, pleurant, soupirant, pour un enfant qui était pas rentrer à la maison, beaucoup trop tôt disparu
cycle de fantôme peint en blanc, enchaîné contre lampadaire ondulé sous les lumières de la ville,
Là , sur le coin où sa dernière fin de course, en ruine.
Il est une exposition là - bas, dans la mémoire d'un, trop tôt disparu des

trous dans l' asphalte brûlé noir qui marque bien le spot du
métal tordu et des débris là je vois, des fragments de l'impact
qui envoie des âmes sans méfiance à la maison là - bas ne jamais revenir ici.
Les dangers disent qu'ils se cache sur toutes les routes, certains réels, certains imaginaient, méfiez - vous, méfiez - vous des utilisateurs.

Poutres puissantes des tuyaux de sapeurs - pompiers
lave les saignements jusqu'à un cours d' eau d'égout,
pourtant, alors que l' on marche dans ces rues brillantes
Les couine taches de sang sous les pieds,
ces camions et les voitures avec feux clignotants
Comme on le voit de loin à travers les nuits encore sombres,
troopers Weary perdre le sommeil rapide
Doit rouvrir ces routes, donc avec des balais, ils balaient,
et éponger, et laver et frotter la surface propre
de tout ce qui reste, du rêve précieux d'une mère.

Calvin a conduit sa Jeep Cherokee
dans un ravin en pente raide
et dans l'eau glacée, il sombré
nez d' abord vers le bas, et des bulles est venu
ensuite la neige est tombée / et le couvrit en.

Et pourtant , la route ne cesse de tourner, tourner, enroulement le long
Elle marche au rythme de son propre tam, tam
Elle ne se soucie pas beaucoup sur tout ce zoom, zoom, zoom le long
Honking, clignotant, retournement, plantage
roulant dans l' épave mutilée / moins abandonnée d'exubérance folle enveloppé
dans le cœur du simple et les jeunes

Elle est juste la route, un ami et ennemi de l'homme wayfaring
Elle prend un du point A au point B et tous les autres points entre eux
autres que cela, elle ne donne pas une putain.

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SANG NOIR: Trace l'arbre généalogique (French Edition) Jan 2, 2018

by E Kelly

$2.99

...Gouverneur Walt Baines était un homme anglais, propriétaire de plantations et le représentant du roi dans la colonie. Gouverneur Baines avait une fille nommée Adah, elle continuerait à épouser un marin qui était aussi un soldat dans l'armée révolutionnaire haïtienne, et qui avait l' habitude de se référer à lui - même comme: penseur, marin, soldat et tout homme autour de Nice.
Sang noir est une histoire futuriste illustrant un gros plan regard sur la vie et les temps de commissaire de police de la Jamaïque Watkins, et ses rencontres avec Lasco: un seigneur de la drogue transcontinental et wanna-jamaïcain king-pin. Le monde était sur un retour Trail après
Extrait:
Shirley Houghton-Smith, une deuxième génération gouverneur américain et unique de Pennsylvanie. Elle n'a pas été la première de sa famille à être gouverneur comme il devait être découvert plus tard, il y avait un membre de la famille qui était auparavant gouverneur en Jamaïque, ainsi que quelques autres personnes dans leur lignée qui étaient des chiffres assez importants dans la société.
Son fils est également devenu maire de Pittsburgh il y a quatre ans au moment de ces événements. Sa lignée a été retracée à Mandeville Manchester et les racines emmêler-et désordre à partir de là. Mais le dossier montrait que son grand - oncle, un certain M. Auteur Ferguson Matheaux était autrefois membre du conseil législatif, (MLC) représentant la paroisse de Manchester, et son grand - père avant lui était gouverneur.

Gouverneur Walt Baines était un homme anglais, propriétaire de plantations et le représentant du roi dans la colonie. Gouverneur Baines avait une fille nommée Adah, elle continuerait à épouser un marin qui était aussi un soldat dans l'armée révolutionnaire haïtienne, et qui avait l' habitude de se référer à lui - même comme: penseur, marin, soldat et tout homme autour de Nice.

L'ironie de toute chose cependant était, ici était cette famille, une famille jamaïcaine avec des connexions qui englobé gouverneur au service de la couronne britannique, soldat / marin au service du gouvernement haïtien et de l' armée, un autre a été au service de l'État jamaïcain, et d' autres encore étaient en service dans différents rôles dans le grand grand Etats - Unis. Mais c'est la couette jamaïcaine pour vous, de nombreux un peuple étonnamment incroyable.

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Black Blood: Trace the Family Tree Dec 2, 2017

by E Lloyd Kelly

$2.99

Black blood is a futuristic Jamaican story, depicting the life and times of a fictitious Jamaican police commissioner – Commissioner Watkins, by name. His many encounters with the count – count Lasco: a trans-continental drug lord and wanna-be narcotics kingpin. The world was on a comeback trail after "the conflict" had passed, and the countries and peoples that were affected by it, were starting to reinvent themselves. While many Nation’s Stars were still falling in the aftermath of the conflict, others were rising at meteoric speeds. One such fast-rising country at the time was the tiny island of Jamaica in the Caribbean region.
There are lots of what you want to see, hear, and feel in this book. We spared none of the gory details, lots of blood, thrills, spills, dark humor, and anecdotes. So, grab some comfort food, pull your feet up, get comfortable and let's go back to the future, again. #backtothefutureagain #alternativehistory

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