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 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Dambo Ricky
Never seen one this lovely, gladdened with the purity of the midnight rain, magnificent she is in all her graces
The whirlwind gave way when her haunches swayed
With palms as soft as the pine, a touch from them sent me on a flight of fantasy
Her peats stood firm as the atlas
To honey no other compare,for it is the sweetest but then you should taste her rosy lips 
And if the zephyrus was mild, then you should hear her speak
The stars were bright but her eyes were the brightest for in them I saw the reason for rainbows
Her face shone so much radiance like the full moon at the peak of her aphrodisiac  
Every wisp of her hair was of the finest silk and when she smiled the world took form
Her aura so distinct as the scented ointment of spikenard

This beauty is all I want to know,for it ignites a quivering sensation in my bones springing forth the passions of my meek soul
For you I would pick the roses of the empyrean
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Bryce K
Emotions
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Bryce K
I paint on my canvas, and create a story with colors.
I paint many pictures while I'm doing this.

I paint pictures based on my feelings and emotions.
I painted a calm brook that replicated my current state of serenity.

I continue to paint, and create a solemn couple.
I believe that replicated my current love life at the moment.

The final painting was of a scared looking man in a cage.
He was lying in a fetal position, and was barely clothed.

This painting continued to puzzle me the rest of the night.
My careful deciphering led me to believe he was me.

Alone and scared, watching the world go by around me.
I believe the cage symbolized the shell I built for myself.

Unable to escape and out of hope, I lie and wait,
waiting for someone to come and set me free.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Louise Glück
The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Diane
I pulled into the Starbucks parking lot
with the force of a lion after its prey
and with the lethargy of one whom had not eaten in weeks
drudging up that last ounce of strength to obtain survival

my eyelashes had mascara from the night before
and my hair was thick with day-old hairspray
hiding behind sunglasses, I shifted my weight for relief
from the flip-flops rubbing unpleasantly between my toes

keenly aware of the headache above my eyes
I got my coffee and was prepared to flee back to my den
where I could devour it, keeping a wary eye on would be thieves
as my fatigue and I walked hastily towards the exit

Life happened. To my left, sat a couple side by side
they wore the casual clothes of confidence and serenity
he sat by the fireplace, his glasses sat at the end of his nose
her body leaned close to the man she loved, and forward to see

the book that was laid open on the table in front of them
curious minds swallowed the words that were offered there
under gray hair, hands holding, faint smiles formed on their lips
I had never seen such a portrait of true contentment

outside, the image kept speaking to my brain, despite my preoccupation
and I saw you. and I saw me. in thirty years, a virtual lifetime
our aging together; maturing, evolving, creating
side by side, ever content, with books, love and coffee.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Christa Casper
Do people really get kissed
like characters do in movies and books?
Pushed up against a wall
Hot breath and lust clenched fingers, or
In an airport in front of security
Teary eyes and tight hugs
Soft and slow and
Full of want and love.
Do they happen?
Or have I just been in
the wrong place my entire life?
And if these kisses do exist,
Why haven't I experienced
anything remotely close to that
Sweet perfection?
Why have all of my kisses been
so hasty and ugly and well,
completely ******?
And who are these guys,
That I have let kiss me,
Who do they think they are?
That they can kiss me like that,
And not even care?
All I get are senseless, strung out lips
looking for another score.
What I want,
Need actually,
Are kisses that make me forget
what i'm thinking
what day it is
what's going on around me,
Kisses that remind me of campfires
and old movies, and rainy summers
filled with lightning bugs and
long walks in sunflower fields.
I want to kiss someone and
feel like I'm back in my microscopic town
catching lady bugs, lying in tall grass
watching the setting sun and feeling a
warm breeze wash over my skin and
seeing it dance with the trees and birds.
I want someone to kiss me, and
make me feel free and whimsical,
Like walking among the sunflowers,
not knowing where they end,
not caring if they don't
because it's beautiful.
I want to be kissed
like the world is ending
like I am the most important thing
and if they don't kiss me
then nothing will ever matter again.
If it's out there,
and god do I hope it is,
I will look for it.
I will find it.
I will.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Sawyer Gowans
Shakespeares words once beauty were,
through thought and speech they spoke to her.

Though in translations time was lost,
at dire end the beauty cost.

For only few still do perceive,
the words wrote down as he would need.

A scholar wise will still read on,
pursuing beauty long since gone.

Dead set in ways that harbor pain,
when sleepless nights is all you gain.

For trust of past is love soaked daggers,
each will stab and you will stagger,
and only now must I believe
it is not Shakespeare,
it is me.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Sawyer Gowans
A while back I met a girl. No. I met “the girl”.
As the quote goes “To the world you may be one person but to one person you may be the world.” and that was it, she was my world.
Now before you go thinking that I’m just some love sick, idealistic, hopeless romantic teenager caught up in the beauty and wonder of his first love just think!
Actually don’t. Don’t think, don’t rationalize, don’t mull it over assuming and judging, just listen.
Because that is exactly what I am. I am a love sick, idealistic, hopeless romantic teenager.
I am head over heels for this girl. I am knees over elbows, I am elephants over tricycles!
She drove me crazy, actually I think I walked there all by myself but it was nice to finally have someone to share it with.
She was my friend and then she wasn’t my friend. She was more than my friend.
She was my friend, my teacher, my counselor, my idol, my source of instant joy in a world that had proven itself to be cruel and bitter at the worst of times.
She was that person that I could picture running down the streets in the pouring rain in shorts, a T-shirt and bright yellow gum boots handing out colourful umbrellas to people trying to stay dry. She was that one spark from a campfire that stayed brighter longer than all the others drifting up out of the flames into the dark sky
and just when you thought it was going to go out it joined the stars and became immortalized.
She was my love, my everything, my world.
And I didn’t love her for the big "look at me moments".
Its true what they say about loving someone for the little things.
I loved her for the whispered secrets and the quiet murmurs.
I loved her for the way she held my hand when I had to leave.
She had the softest grip but with all my strength I couldn’t break free.
I loved her for the way she looked at me when we danced around her kitchen in our socks laughing.
I loved her for the way she stood up on her tip toes making our kisses last just one second longer before our lips parted.
I loved her.
It didn't matter that I couldn't think when I was around her because her presence turned my brain to mush
because I was with her and that made everything else okay.

One day she stopped holding my hand when I had to go, we didn't dance in our socks anymore, she didn't stand on her tiptoes for kisses.
When she left me I told myself I would get over her and move on, that was over a year ago.
For a long time I wondered how I was going to live in a world where everything reminded me of her.
I  tried to date other people and failed miserably when my thoughts were filled with pictures of her. I struggled, my love for her tore me apart.
Eventually I began to live again, functioning with an acceptance that I may never be over her.

Today I met a girl.
No. I met "the girl", the same girl, the girl I had met over two years ago and today, she's my friend and I am still elephants over tricycles for her.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Ting-Jun
I give you my tears,
I give you my joy,
take my darkness,
take what's mine.

Between pain and numbness
which would you choose?
One is red, blinding, dangerous,
and flows erratically through your veins
the other is black, sinister, shrewd,
and dances around your mind
before swallowing you whole.

I give you my tears,
I give you my joy,
take my darkness,
take what's mine.

*Save me.
 Aug 2013 Kimberly
Pink Pigs
The wind gently blowing through the trees
Rustling the leaves on the ground
Lying down on the soft emerald green grass
She looks up at the bright blue sky
Hoping a change in perspective may help

Her eyes tried from all the tears she’s cried
She stares off into the vast blueness
Hoping to find some clue as to why things turned out this way
Wondering if life will ever change
Terrified that it may never

As she stares off into the nothingness
Her mind begins to draw pictures of what could be
Jelly fish floating through the air with ease
Pink pigs playing in the wind
Her life a happy one

But she knows these will never be
Slowly lifting her weight
She brushes off the dreams of what could be like pieces of grass
And slowly trudges back
Back to the life she will always know
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