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"kimmy" poems
Oh Bastet, Oh Sekhmet, Upon you are the praises, As the Eye of Ra, Protector of those beyond their age, Blessing us with the knowledge of your will, The incarnation of you Kimmy, Is prepared for her journey, Yet through supplication and festivals of drunkenness, We beseech thee, Again your Ointment jar will be overflowing, The Sistrum and Aegis again in your hands, Sacrifice at the Temple in celebration For continued presence, Here in the second world, Our beloved Kimmy.
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
A prayer for kimmy
Part 1: Mami let me get with you, wanna share my bed with you,We can have *** in H.D. digital, It ain't really difficult, let me see your ******* boo, Dance for me baby, just move how the strippers do, My private lil prom queen, doing all the wild things, Never seen yourself giving head on the flat screen, Instant celebrity, natural star to me, Sit back and rewind the part when you was riding me, Ran out of blank tapes, need another blank tape, One more scene and we got ourselves a *** tape, Your friends know I'm filming ya, they seen what I did to ya, We can even use a camera phone like Vivaca... Part 2: We can play like actors, know you not a amateur. You can have the lead role, and I'll be the director. Setting up the camera, get into your character. Come up out that little dress, and let me climb on top of ya. Now baby let's just get involved, with the camera on. You see that red light, that means I've pressed record. Now mami look it's easy, go ahead, come on please me. Now we can put on repeat, and play it back on t.v.Let's make a ****** *** tape, show the world your head great. Show the world you good with it, back shots, hair pulling. Time for some action, Kimmy Kardashian Lil camcorder that's pointed at your *** again
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
From him
It was about four score and 20 years ago, the times were very different and nobody seemed to know. We lived our lives like fairytales and what we saw on TV. Nobody seemed to care that it was 1993. Running around like a Power Ranger while everybody stared at me. then '95 rolled around and Uncle Jessie is who I wanted to be. It was a Full House with D.J. and the crew. Kimmy Gibbler running around and Danny's on the news. Everything just seemed so perfect till TV turned us on to something new. Take me back to the time when it was just you and me, the TV was black and white and our future was unforeseen. Take me back to a time where everything was right, Back to a time when problems were solved on Friday nights. Next weeks episode the break the garden gnome. No one takes the blame but everybody knows. Cut to commercial, on the edge of our seats. A bear talks about toilet paper, our tension starts to heat. We hear the little jingle and fall back into our seats. The episode will end but there will always be next week. It takes me back to TV land, Gilligan's Island, everyone playing in the sand. It's crazy just to see where we are now. Gun's and *** all over the screen, people laying dead upon the ground. So if there's one thing I want from you, it would be easy for you to do. Just take me... Take me back to the time when it was just you and me, the TV was black and white and our future was unforeseen. Take me back to a time where everything was right, Back to a time when problems were solved on Friday nights.
0
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
Problems Solved on Friday Nights
It was about four score and 20 years ago, the times were very different and nobody seemed to know. We lived our lives like fairytales and what we saw on TV. Nobody seemed to care that it was 1993. Running around like a Power Ranger while everybody stared at me. then '95 rolled around and Uncle Jessie is who I wanted to be. It was a Full House with D.J. and the crew. Kimmy Gibbler running around and Danny's on the news. Everything just seemed so perfect till TV turned us on to something new. Take me back to the time when it was just you and me, the TV was black and white and our future was unforeseen. Take me back to a time where everything was right, Back to a time when problems were solved on Friday nights. Next weeks episode the break the garden gnome. No one takes the blame but everybody knows. Cut to commercial, on the edge of our seats. A bear talks about toilet paper, our tension starts to heat. We hear the little jingle and fall back into our seats. The episode will end but there will always be next week. It takes me back to TV land, Gilligan's Island, everyone playing in the sand. It's crazy just to see where we are now. Gun's and *** all over the screen, people laying dead upon the ground. So if there's one thing I want from you, it would be easy for you to do. Just take me... Take me back to the time when it was just you and me, the TV was black and white and our future was unforeseen. Take me back to a time where everything was right, Back to a time when problems were solved on Friday nights.
Continue reading...
38
Pawny, the orange stray played with her That was odd The crows chattered outside her window The mynas silently observed from the fence Dear Mr. Cooper never left her side It was not unusual that the day was cloudy It often is here in the equatorial The accompanying heavy gloom in the sky and all around was not the norm though As passers-by seemed to mention The smell of fresh jasmine was in the air So much fragrance couldn't possibly come from one plant The chatter of the sparrows were toned down today But only a clever observer could have noticed She called everyone to say hi She never calls, everyone knows Still the others didn't know, couldn't have known Even she didn't know That today was to be her last day as a physical being She went to bed just like on many other nights Tossing for a while playing her sudoku Which usually lulled her to sleep When she awoke, though she thought it was morning, it seemed like she was sitting near the sun She looked around, her old friends, dead friends were all around Kimmy was there and so was Pompy She felt so happy, she didn't even bother to ask Only the sound of loud wailing shook her a little and there in the cloud she saw a moving picture Of her dear ones crying And she laying there, almost smiling As lifeless as the flowers placed on her
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
An Augury of Sorts
I love the smell of your hair after a shampoo I love how the sound of dogs barking ruffles you I love the sight of the scars on your hands I love the way you try to hide your legs I love your vampire teeth showing when you reluctantly smile I love the way you heartily laugh at my jokes I love the way you strum nothing into a tune I love your random songs and play on my name I love your hold on my hand and warmth therein I love the hugs and cuddles and nuzzles you bring I love the feel of your fingers against my skin Just one more reason to show how you are endearing The tingle I feel every time our ***** lips meet Makes it difficult to continue working when you’re there watching I love how you speak of Higgs Boson so intimately No other person I know can quite grasp this theory I love the way you play with Vladimir and Kimmy Your kindness and concern shows, amidst playfulness,  it’s so funny I love your mean pancakes and your hot morning coffee I love most things about you, why don’t we marry?
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
I love (20 x 10W)
In her leggings, and her striped Cape Cod dress, we meet Kim. She’s in possession of ankles the circumference of Kennedy half-dollars, a wasp’s nest of black curls piled on her head, she’s a straight line from shoulder to heel. She’s a real catch, Kim is, and she knows it. She has no idea that she looks like a peacock dipped in motor oil, she’s giving ol’ Josh the goldfish eye. We’re all here to see The Freight Train, The Rabbit Killer, but Kim’s hoping for more. Kim’s looking to get her bunny stuffed, she don’t care much about who does the stuffing, but she’s hoping for Mr. Clark, he’s her mark, no doubt. Now, Josh bought Kim a beer, but was asked to leave the cap on, He looks at me, confused. “It’s so you can’t Rufie her. She wants to **** you, but she wants it to be her idea.” Josh nods; so does Kim. As the evening proceeds, and we’ve all done “The Freight Train Boogie” it’s become increasingly obvious to Kim that Josh is not agreeable to buttering her biscuits, she moves, which is to say stumbles, around the room. Every so often she’ll climb onto the lap of some guy she’s known, biblically or otherwise, before. Sam, Bob, Steve, Ralph, or Charlie, it hardly matters. Earlier, she’d told us about the 6-year-old twins, the teenaged daughter at home, ex-husband, boyfriend, whatever, in jail. The Freight Train moves ever onward, but I’ve seen too much of ol’ Kimmy’s show, now depressed, it’s time to bail. *** -JBClaywell ©P&ZPublications; 2016
0
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
Freight Train Rabbit Killer, Josh and Kim: A Sordid Tale of The Muny Inn (Actually, it’s not so much a tale as it is a collection of lines, but then it is 3am on a Saturday. So, **** it, right?)
In her leggings, and her striped Cape Cod dress, we meet Kim. She’s in possession of ankles the circumference of Kennedy half-dollars, a wasp’s nest of black curls piled on her head, she’s a straight line from shoulder to heel. She’s a real catch, Kim is, and she knows it. She has no idea that she looks like a peacock dipped in motor oil, she’s giving ol’ Josh the goldfish eye. We’re all here to see The Freight Train, The Rabbit Killer, but Kim’s hoping for more. Kim’s looking to get her bunny stuffed, she don’t care much about who does the stuffing, but she’s hoping for Mr. Clark, he’s her mark, no doubt. Now, Josh bought Kim a beer, but was asked to leave the cap on, He looks at me, confused. “It’s so you can’t Rufie her. She wants to **** you, but she wants it to be her idea.” Josh nods; so does Kim. As the evening proceeds, and we’ve all done “The Freight Train Boogie” it’s become increasingly obvious to Kim that Josh is not agreeable to buttering her biscuits, she moves, which is to say stumbles, around the room. Every so often she’ll climb onto the lap of some guy she’s known, biblically or otherwise, before. Sam, Bob, Steve, Ralph, or Charlie, it hardly matters. Earlier, she’d told us about the 6-year-old twins, the teenaged daughter at home, ex-husband, boyfriend, whatever, in jail. The Freight Train moves ever onward, but I’ve seen too much of ol’ Kimmy’s show, now depressed, it’s time to bail. *** -JBClaywell ©P&ZPublications; 2016
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63
age is arbitrary! is how i justify whiskey shots on the front porch with adults singing drunken renditions of Wish You Were Here it's tender and when our disharmonic voices pierce the quiet street we all cry a little. Kimmy puts her arm around me and tells me i am going to do great things maybe it's the alcohol burning up my throat or something in the light the world is mine to change
0
Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 10:50 AM UTC
garfield ave
Amber was an atheist, she thought the world was dumb as hell. Britney was a botanist, who had a fertilizer smell. Candice was a coroner, a scary passion for the stiffs. Diana was a drummer chick, that knew a few guitar riffs. Evelyn was evil, man, all leather suits and chains and whips. Farrah was a therapist, got in my brain with swinging hips. Greta was a gunslinger, she'd give most anything a shot. Hannah was a homebody- shy as hell, but twice as hot. Iris was an Ivy Leaguer, thought I was a total fool. Janice was a juggler, who liked to play with power tools. Kimmy taught karate, who dated me just for the kicks. Louise was a lyricist, who wrote about how guys were ***** Marilyn was mostly mean, she liked to fight and then make up. Nancy was so negative, I had no choice but to break up. Opal was an occultist, who liked to gossip with the dead. Paula was a ********** that made me pay to come to bed. Queenie was inquisitive, the questions were too much to bear. Rosie was a recluse who never shaved or brushed her hair. Sidney was a sinful sort, with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed. Tina was a twisted chick, with thirteen voices in her head. Ursula was uber-cool, always on the latest trends. Vicky was on Vicodin, and we all know how that one ends. Wanda was a wanderer, that left to join a circus troupe. Xena the exhibitionist liked to do it on the stoop. Yolanda was young and fine, and nearly cost me everything. Zoey was a Zombie fan, she got hot when he would sing. I'd like to say I've settled down, but since the alphabet is done, I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita, and give it all another run.
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
The Little Black Book (the ABCs of Romance)
Amber was an atheist, she thought the world was dumb as hell. Britney was a botanist, who had a fertilizer smell. Candice was a coroner, a scary passion for the stiffs. Diana was a drummer chick, that knew a few guitar riffs. Evelyn was evil, man, all leather suits and chains and whips. Farrah was a therapist, got in my brain with swinging hips. Greta was a gunslinger, she'd give most anything a shot. Hannah was a homebody- shy as hell, but twice as hot. Iris was an Ivy Leaguer, thought I was a total fool. Janice was a juggler, who liked to play with power tools. Kimmy taught karate, who dated me just for the kicks. Louise was a lyricist, who wrote about how guys were ***** Marilyn was mostly mean, she liked to fight and then make up. Nancy was so negative, I had no choice but to break up. Opal was an occultist, who liked to gossip with the dead. Paula was a ********** that made me pay to come to bed. Queenie was inquisitive, the questions were too much to bear. Rosie was a recluse who never shaved or brushed her hair. Sidney was a sinful sort, with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed. Tina was a twisted chick, with thirteen voices in her head. Ursula was uber-cool, always on the latest trends. Vicky was on Vicodin, and we all know how that one ends. Wanda was a wanderer, that left to join a circus troupe. Xena the exhibitionist liked to do it on the stoop. Yolanda was young and fine, and nearly cost me everything. Zoey was a Zombie fan, she got hot when he would sing. I'd like to say I've settled down, but since the alphabet is done, I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita, and give it all another run.
Continue reading...
56
last night, i dreamt I called your mom it was way early in the am like 4am or I so presume, She picked up as if i woke her from here slumber , (which in obvious I did); I asked her to speak to you, our converasation went exactly like this; "She said he isn't home Kimmy but when I see him, ill be sure to have him call you. In the meantime, can i take a message?" Than I sob and tell her, "Please tell Him that your him who I think about. day in and day out. I really need him to know that." as my voice increased quieter than a shout.
0
Jun 4, 2011
Jun 4, 2011 at 4:45 PM UTC
Nadine.
im scared. But  "I know I will be okay... " (The quote that seems to make it all okay in the mind of Kimmy) the seconds till sun sets feels like a lifetime. I hear the whistle, but dont have that kick. I feel the pressure; but there's no release my break time, has turned into lunchtime and my style has changed from super so cal cute to what the **** am i doing out here? i seriously contimplate playing with death. i think to myself how id do it and what the aftermouth could be. its as if my skin is crawling with uncomfortableness. this city isnt for me. im not for me. i know who i am. what i enjoy. what is wrong and what is right. but oftenly enough, my behavior has trashed all previous  teachings once learned. I cant take myself seriously i cant take life seriously. I am in a relationship that is remaining consistant because its one less thing to add to my table platter of life. sometimes i wish i could just walk away after being served, but it just doesnt work that w ay. I get that.
0
Apr 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 at 4:58 PM UTC
punch me with poppys while sipping on tea.
I am 21. I am a female. I am known as Kimmy I like to shop I like to smile and talk to strangers I prefer to pick flowers than to pick fights I forget things such as names and numbers dates and my car keys I like to dance I believe in angels and heaven I like to live with no regret I believe life is short and sweet Living Uptight and Unhappy is not my style I Prefer to live day to day as hard as that might be for iF i had it my way id like to fastforward my life just to see where ill be I love few trust not that many yet have my reasons I have a terrible relationship with my family I have learned HOW not to be thanks to my parents I lived a life of much tension/pain/frusteration/abandonment/love/hate/negativity/and lonliness from all of it despite it all i would not change a thing i am kimmy as unsure as I feel I know ill figure it out I rise above the negativity live for the moment learn from every mistake made apologize for my wrong doings and than some- know right from wrong and am overly free spirited If I died tomorow. I hope to rise above my uncertainty and into the security of knowing exactly who I am and who I WAS given the will to live and the drive to understand life for how it is intended I am hoping to make this self discovery sooner than later.
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Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 9:39 PM UTC
Sole Search for my SOUL
why does the life of kimmy seem to be more and more complicated? i dont get it,
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Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 1:51 PM UTC
well ****
patient and quiet i hear the wind                                                 and so it begins again                                                    about you i think to myself how proud                                                 that you are out on your own                                                    living in this strange place called world somewhere out there high above is a shooting star                                                   standing strong and alone                                                   not a big girl, but a young, beautiful woman i am transitioning into greatness                                                    that no one ever thought you'd be                                                    with one exception - me.
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Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 6:10 PM UTC
to see and feel and be real (in collaboration with Kimmy-Nichole)
Theres this huge sinking feeling in my heart, The kind that knocks me sick when I move, The heavy pit from my chest to my stomach. I live with a bag packed ready to go, And each time I say goodbye, say I love you, You jump on me because you know, I cant leave you when I see your eyes. You stare at me, you dont have to speak, Youve already made it clear I have to stay. But I dont want to anymore Kimmy, I dont know why I feel the way I do, But it hurts, so so much… Im living in misery, this isnt what I wanted. I want to tell the others but I dont know how? Please dont ring him, I cant hear his voice, I dont want to talk to anyone but you. Tell dad if you have too, he’ll only yell. Youre too young to hear all this, its not fair, But where else do I turn, I know you, I know you’d understand, You wouldnt yell like dad, You wouldnt be angry like he would be, You’d be calm, youd try to help… And maybe you’d call the boy I told you not to call, Maybe you’d ask for his help too, Because I cant bring myself to ask him. I’m sorry little sister, I love you too. And thats why Ive stayed...
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Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
Kimmy
A school is refusing to help children. Suicidal ones. Her parents told her, “You’re cutting for attention.” She told us, “Maybe if I was gone, they would know it’s not.” Those parents are the most pathetic people I’ve ever known. You can’t just tell your child that they’re depressed just because “they want attention.” You’re the ones supposed to be caring. She is your child. People nowadays don’t stop to realize that people are hurting. That people are suffering. Maybe more than others, but they’re still suffering! We’re always told that parents are the ones supposed to be there for us. How about the fathers who turn into magicians and disappear? Or how about the mothers who sell their child as a ********** for drug money? Or the other fathers who are always too drunk to remember their child’s name? Or the other mothers who beat their children physically and emotionally? They tell her, “If your parents aren’t there then go to your brothers and sisters.” Okay. How about the brothers who **** their sisters? Or the sisters who grow up to be strippers, and a drug addict than have a miscarriage? Parent’s are the ones supposed to look after their children. Don’t let your child commit suicide because you weren’t ever there to help her! Because you were too pathetic to think of your own daughter’s feelings! Please don’t regret not being there for her. Please help her through the life she has...
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
Kimmy...