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kimberly-seibert
kimberly-seibert
Free birds fly, caged birds scream. I wander in thought and in life. It's a beautiful dangerous thing. I never know what I want, but I always know what I don't want. All words ©Kimberly Seibert.
The nomad wondered, what went on past the walls. He whistled away, as he walked toward the falls. Lost in the silence, what goes on past those walls? The beautiful bold brick, standing so tall. Ancient and raw, the withered hand. Who has no home, and knows no land. Whose savage way, is to understand. The crown and the throne, desired by man. Pale and ghostly, her lips are chapped. Bark has been torn, her tree has been tapped. A filthy kingdom, which she can't adapt. Like dirt beneath her nails, trapped. "A Joker, a Jester, Just a Clown? A Man, a Boy, A proper noun? Making drinks, To water them down? Holding ice under, To watch it drown?" While the nomad wondered, what went on past the walls. He whistled away, while inside she crawled; Lost in the silence, that goes on past the walls. Lost in the silence, that wanders the halls.
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Past The Walls
Aggressive stood the silhouette Distant in the night. Sutured to her shadow A dark and haunting plight. Forgotten was the hour Desolation bereaved. Consumed by her fears A beast was conceived. What's worse then battle Is one fought alone. When the lights are all on But nobody's home. When the demon that lurks Is one that's detached. Mindful yet careless Improperly miss matched. The void spreads like cancer A concrete defeat. Becoming the snake pit By tripping over her feet. Saved by good intentions But just for a moment. See, with actions and consequences You just have to own it.
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Actions & Consequences
From a child's eyes To a child's heart. Impressions lasting First one's the start. Young and innocent Even more pure. The smile to a bad day Sometimes the cure. An empty vessel To fill and to mold. A respectable child Does as they're told. Taught right from wrong Morals are planted. Posture is straight Not crooked and slanted. Religion is introduced Traditions hallowed out. Expectations set No time to doubt. Captured over time In the parent's planned future. Trust earned and lost Disappointments need suture. What happens when that child No longer hears praise? Repeated in their head "This is not how you were raised." When conflict of interest And what's stood for changes. When a child's soul is not Resistant to the turning of ages. Product of their environment It's not just what's taught. It's every lie and hardship That they've ever bought. The bruises the tears For some the neglect. Do they become the examples We all forget?
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
The Forgotten Child
I like to think I'm practical, With a want for practical things. But I have a need for variety, And a whole lot of dreams. Single doesn't bother me, It's loneliness that takes a toll. But with options at my fingertips, I haven't been alone. Don't get mad when I move on, Smile and remember what you had. The best for you has already happened, But for me, hasn't happened yet.
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 1:30 PM UTC
Men Are Just Dessert
"And you will make the dream catcher, To set above his head? And can you use these feathers From the bird we sacrificed instead?" Two days before, it began, The horrible visions in his head- Nightmares had left him paralyzed, In his sleep, loitering, but dead. At first he was alive And as strong as strong could be. Then a leap of faith Turned into catastrophe. A voice, a love, and then the shock. The pebble broken off the rock. A lifeless sleep in the face of day Behind closed eyes in disarray. And I could hear my heart beat, The dream catcher may not be enough. For it seems as though he's seen it all His life a little rough. I agreed in helping her; And my head it wandered fast. With dread in case this didn't work The nightmares slipping past. And when I came, she held his hand. A woman a drift, yet here on land: And, though no word was said at all I knew she knew the plan. Because her heart was set, She did not sigh, or moan, or fret. In fact she hardly wept, Her love it took a stand. I gathered the feathers, Securing them tightly. Weaving the string in and out, Ever so lightly. My hands were stiff But I kept going. Despite the fact Of not really knowing, If this was going to work. Her eyes somewhat piercing, For she hardly blinked. It made me wonder, It made me think: Will I ever love Like this woman does? Tangled in another's soul Just because. At last I pulled the scissors out Cutting just below the final knot. Filled with hope now, not a single doubt, Because I gave it all I got. Handing her the perfect dream catcher, She smiled and then she said, "Would you mind doing me the honors Of placing this above his head?" I cried for her, she had no tears. Of all my days and all my years, I've never met a woman more humble Despite the shift in gears. I hung it up, just as she asked. She took a silent, in drawn breath. Can we save this man lost asleep, Or will the nightmares be his death?
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Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
Will The Nightmares Be His Death?
"And you will make the dream catcher, To set above his head? And can you use these feathers From the bird we sacrificed instead?" Two days before, it began, The horrible visions in his head- Nightmares had left him paralyzed, In his sleep, loitering, but dead. At first he was alive And as strong as strong could be. Then a leap of faith Turned into catastrophe. A voice, a love, and then the shock. The pebble broken off the rock. A lifeless sleep in the face of day Behind closed eyes in disarray. And I could hear my heart beat, The dream catcher may not be enough. For it seems as though he's seen it all His life a little rough. I agreed in helping her; And my head it wandered fast. With dread in case this didn't work The nightmares slipping past. And when I came, she held his hand. A woman a drift, yet here on land: And, though no word was said at all I knew she knew the plan. Because her heart was set, She did not sigh, or moan, or fret. In fact she hardly wept, Her love it took a stand. I gathered the feathers, Securing them tightly. Weaving the string in and out, Ever so lightly. My hands were stiff But I kept going. Despite the fact Of not really knowing, If this was going to work. Her eyes somewhat piercing, For she hardly blinked. It made me wonder, It made me think: Will I ever love Like this woman does? Tangled in another's soul Just because. At last I pulled the scissors out Cutting just below the final knot. Filled with hope now, not a single doubt, Because I gave it all I got. Handing her the perfect dream catcher, She smiled and then she said, "Would you mind doing me the honors Of placing this above his head?" I cried for her, she had no tears. Of all my days and all my years, I've never met a woman more humble Despite the shift in gears. I hung it up, just as she asked. She took a silent, in drawn breath. Can we save this man lost asleep, Or will the nightmares be his death?
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When all the world is old, my dear, And the trees are all too tall; And every bird a hawk, my dear, And every dance a ball; Then barefoot your way to me, my dear, And around the way we'll go; A childhood must play its course, my dear, And every heart should know: When all the world was young, my dear, And all the seeds had just been planted; And all the color in this place, my dear, Mistakenly, taken, for granted; Back to those times and ways, my dear, An abode to which all were naive; A place for peace and joy, my dear, Where all was loved and free.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 11:02 PM UTC
My Dear
The last night of Summer, Closing eyes on herself. Leaves start changing colors, A charismatic wealth. The moon still remaining, Perched high in the sky. As the last rose of Summer, It withers and dies. The last kiss of Summer, That was two years ago. Puckering up for your poison, Wish I knew what I now know. But it takes being defeated, More times then none. To really appreciate, The Summer's last sun.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 4:29 PM UTC
Summer's Last Sun
You are just a speck Of dust in a Gods left eye There to be cleaned out.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
A Haiku to Think About
The days grow longer when you're alone, Daggers sharpen, still stuck in your back. The blood has drained you're left with bone, And a heart that's vigorously turning black. The headstones are plenty, plots they thicken, Life grows sadder as people disappear. The selfish coyote claims the chicken, Before taking a glance in the mirror. Love grows stronger for those who stay, Remaining there forever by your side. But forever is a word with play, Tears come quicker having tried. Laughing is seldom when you abolish the smile, The more you think the less you do. There is no cure, you'll find no vial, Losing self respect amidst the truth. The time you invest, do so with care, Don't let the past hinder you with resistance. Excuses are easy, hard work is the dare, The challenge of your existence.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
The Challenge of Your Existence
Loneliness; 1,000 piranhas eating You inside out. The deepest, darkest waters are Within us. Loneliness, Is to drown and be eaten alive, All at once.
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
The Amazon