911

The blinding light

is near the door.

Its far too bright for little eyes to ignore.

It hides most of your faces but not those smiles,

that gleam with the intent of pedophiles.

The stained mattresses wadded up by the wall,

and the dinner of sweets that temptingly call.

Somethings not right here.

Its creepy and dim.

Barely any furniture and you’re giggling with him.

Is he your partner in this with his eerie small grin?

Last night when I came home from school with her

how could I have known,

that the monsters she were running from

lived in her very own home?

We went to sleep so early.

Such very strange dreams.

I realize at dinner the next night,

its exactly what it seems.

As you laugh over this “dinner”

of foods made to distract,

I smell the unfamiliar scent

and know that I must act.

For drugs are surely to be blamed.

They knock us out and leave us lame.

Who knows what you do once we rest,

while our drug induced dreams leave us unable to protest.

Eye contact with her and a mental interaction.

She knows what my plan is and she starts her distraction.

As eyes are off me and hands rush to resolve

the problem of her throwing her food at the wall,

I dash past the lamp with the over bright light

to stop at the obstacle preventing my flight.

As I struggle with the door that has thirteen latches,

I turn to see the creeps delivering lashes.

My eyes dart frantically,

 I pray God not leave us alone.

When suddenly my eyes spot a black corded phone.

I dash and grasp it anxious to mash

the three numbers to save us from this nightmare at last!

 

 

 

 

Suddenly all is dark.

I hold myself and shake,

as I realize the truth that’s almost worse………

I’m awake.

 

 

 

*I wrote this about a nightmare I had. I have always had very very vivid dreams. Which makes good dreams amazing. However, it makes bad dreams terrifying. This one was felt particularly real. Needless to say, I struggled for 4 hours after I woke up to fall back asleep.

 

 

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I’m Just The Jester

Bright white screen on tired green eyes.

Small black keys do not recognize,

the rhythm bashed out by my too chubby fingers.

That hate the way this uncertainty lingers.

For who am I

in the throne room of masters,

to think I could move those,

who create so much faster?

Who am I to believe that this rhyme in this space

is enough to make others feel poetic embrace?

If the meter feels wrong or the words don’t quite rhyme,

will the reader roll eyes and move on to save time?

Or is it enough to just to pound out my thoughts.

Hoping someone relates and the meanings not lost.

Not lost in the doubt that my words aren’t deep.

Not lost by the fact all that rhymes here is beep.

I believe in writing just for writing itself.

Creativity is not something that flourishes on a shelf.

So i’ll write through the doubt that I do not come close,

to the skill of those artist through whom poetry flows.

Hopefully they’ll look over this piece that’s not full

of emotion and passion, all my usual bull.

This is just me being honest and saying

That in this big doubtful world of writing….I’m staying.

 

 

Polaroid

My recent submission to a lovely poetry community you should definitely check out….created by my closest friend, J and some other very talented bloggers.

PresserPoets

You invade my dreams.

Like a thief in the night.

Calling into question so many things.

My integrity.

My virtue.

Who I am.

And who I love.

But you’re not real.

You’re a polaroid  from a camera now broken.

Which I damaged beyond repair

Then set fire to the bitch.

Cara Kimball

(edited, originally posted 24/01/16 on If Pandas Could Speak)

Permissions given by ©Cara Kimball

Photo courtesy of Google Images

Hi! My name is Cara and I am just your average girl. You know…panda and hug obsessed. I love to write to express deep emotions, so most of my poetry relates to my real life in some way. I am a mother of one and am currently perusing a Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine. Its going to be a long journey, but I’ve never been one to shy from a little adventure. I am very happy to be…

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Greatest Find

 He says “Lean on me”.

Three words so sweet,

from the mouth, I so often kiss.

Lean on you I shall,

for you’re my strength,

whenever my mind is amiss.

A stronger man

I’ve never had.

You are my greatest find.

Of all the things I love about you,

my favorite is that you’re mine.

Red Rainbows (*Trigger Warning*)

Come to me,

make me feel,

or feel nothing at all.

 

 Silence the thoughts

that wont let me think.

 Make every big thing seem small.

 

Fall onto me with repeated grace,

  a ballet of shades of red.

 

‘Sweet relief can be all mine’,

        says the whispering voice in my head.

 

Give me the strength to deal by myself

a burden i shall not be.

 

Cut loose the chains of overthinking,

maybe then I will be free.

 

…..for awhile

Driving Thoughts

Sometimes when I drive

I look at other drivers.

‘Who are you?’ I think.

We wander around like strangers,

forgetting we are all linked.

So forgive me if, at the crimson emission that tells us

how fast we must go.

Our eyes meet for the first time,

and to pull away, my eyes are slow.

Oh the old familiar places I see

when

your face begins to turn.

‘Do I know her?’ you’re probably thinking,

as you drive off without concern.

Whats so wrong with eye contact;

wondering what another’s life is like?

Why do our minds have to be so defined;

to be on a one way track?

Is it so rude to intrude,

upon your travels in a way so small?

Or should I just march on in this never ending race,

Forgetting…its not really a race at all.