Poetry Blog by kimberly

Tags from last 12 months

lovers (17) memories (9) dreams (8) poetry (6) writing (5) artists (5) poem (5) longing (4) truth (4) summer (4) reunited (3) lost love (3) love poem (3) family (3)

Recent Comments

kimberly on drowning in poetry (Fri, 19 Mar 2021 02:20 am)

Stephen Gospage on drowning in poetry (Thu, 18 Mar 2021 05:13 pm)

kimberly on drowning in poetry (Tue, 16 Mar 2021 07:49 pm)

kimberly on listen to her (Mon, 15 Mar 2021 09:13 pm)

kimberly on The Gentle Birdsong Calling of Spring (Mon, 15 Feb 2021 05:26 pm)

kimberly on There's Something There... (Thu, 31 Dec 2020 04:24 pm)

Vautaw on There's Something There... (Thu, 31 Dec 2020 03:17 am)

kimberly on In Solidarity (Sat, 12 Dec 2020 05:49 pm)

M.C. Newberry on In Solidarity (Fri, 11 Dec 2020 04:15 pm)

kimberly on Have You Noticed (Wed, 9 Dec 2020 05:53 pm)

drowning in poetry

a poem of longing

a poem of remembrance

a poem of rage

a poem of hope


a poem to slip into your mind

a poem to never forget the story

a poem to purge the feelings

a poem of healing


do you ever get the feeling 

we’re drowning in poetry?

day by day 

inundated by poetry.


everywhere you go, 

another platform, 

another social network 

for poets...

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listen to her

inside of you,

that constant voice

knows you better 

than anyone else.


she’s been there

when no one else was.

she knows she’ll never

steer you wrong.


she’ll direct you forward, 

& retract you 

from uncomfortable situations.

no matter if they say otherwise, 

listen to her.


friends know a side of you,

your lover knows another,

but she knows...

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Train Ride Home

inspired by The Last Night of Your Trip

on the train ride home 
your smile flashed between buildings, 
lights flickered and i couldn’t tell 
if it was the spark in your eye 
or the streetlights beaming 
onto the dark streets. 

i saw your smile and your hand
reaching for mine, 
those bedroom eyes 
that whispered “bring me 
to your hotel.” 

we weren’t made for cheap 
sex, we were ...

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just couldn't be

i wake up from the dream with a distinct unease,

everything couldn't simply be the way it ought to be


like a dream vacation

without a room reservation


like a sinking cruise line

with flooding waters rising as i catch my last breath


like hailing a taxi

but it rides off before i could ever reach it


slipping through my fingers

the dreams that couldn't po...

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broken dreamslost dreams

The Gentle Birdsong Calling of Spring

it's right underneath,

brewing under my chest

this quiet whisper circling-

not spiraling downwards as 

i often tend to, but in a way a

gentle breeze swirls a handful

of leaves and they flutter away.

there's an inquisitive nature 

to it where there is somehow a

sense of magic at hand, and yet

somehow there must be a reason

to it all. a scientific process that 


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break these chains

contemplating her next move, 
the pounding within her chest 
told her what she already knew: 
she had to break free from the chains 
wrapped around her wrists. 
there was no sense in moving, 
for every wriggle 
tightened the grip.

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take my hand

under the light of the moon 
you hold out your hand 
& i take hold.

you offer a ride with your heart in tow 
whispering delicately, 
“let’s see where this journey goes.”

as long as we’re bound together 
there’s no better place 
for our love to grow.

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love poemlovers

Cupcake Dreams

moonbeams and cupcake dreams. 
sugar highs into the night. 
we’re whispering nothings, 
how our lives could be. 

knowing the truth, 
looking into your eyes 
you are the moonlight 
in my darkest of nights. 

so, love, break my heart 
into a thousand pieces 
because all of my insides 
are craving your sweet creamy filling.

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love poempoetry loverssweethearts


is this my home?
spinning ‘round n round
going from high to low
and back ‘round again.

is this that place where a heart feels heard
and shoulders ease?
for far too long the tongue’s been tied
and the shoulders tense

from being left in the dark
because my stories don’t matter.
the voice has been shushed
and pushed into a corner steadily decaying.

do you hear me
as you untie my w...

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The Looking Glass

the looking glass  
possesses fragments of a view.  
surrounding figures and forms  
collapse as our fingertips meet.  
yet, steady is the scene  
encompassing pieces of you. 

limbs undulate tenderly 
with the slightest breeze. 
wildflowers spread their seeds 
dropping impressions 
attempting to gain greater visibility. 

such bits linger out of view, 
boulders that were planted eon...

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love poem

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