tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-337710572024-03-13T13:06:27.871-07:00A Buddhist Mermaid's Guide to Life & LoveLove is all that matters. Love always wins. xoKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-24129876667152857052013-01-24T09:29:00.002-08:002013-01-24T09:29:27.936-08:00SilenceI can’t help it,<br />
nor do I want to,<br />
that half my breath is tied<br />
to your heart<br />
<br />
My poet’s soul,<br />
the one that drew you to me,<br />
has its downsides,<br />
and I see the walls go up<br />
between us as we entrench,<br />
each on our side,<br />
<br />
no one on the side of<br />
us.<br />
<br />
When I am scared<br />
I go to my heart,<br />
when you are scared<br />
you go to your logic and facts<br />
<br />
we think we are right.<br />
together, perhaps yes,<br />
in the wars we create<br />
no one can win.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I hear the door, old and heavy,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
made of huge trees and hard iron,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
swinging toward closed, </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
freezing me in place.</div>
<br />
<br />
But darling,<br />
hear this.<br />
<br />
I can take your anger<br />
(though I know you think I can’t)<br />
I can take long and heated battles<br />
(though I’d rather learn other ways)<br />
<br />
But the silence.<br />
<br />
Take away my chocolate,<br />
my iced lattes, even my ocean,<br />
take away the sun and the stars,<br />
but do not take away your heart.<br />
<br />
Understand.<br />
<br />
Understand that so long as you are silent,<br />
every minute you withdraw,<br />
I feel punished for my questions and my desires.<br />
Every minute the door is locked<br />
I will not stand and pound my fists on it<br />
<br />
I will sit quietly just outside<br />
on the old stone steps that<br />
lead to your heart<br />
and sometimes I will laugh<br />
when I think of you, clever and handsome,<br />
and how erotically perfect we are,<br />
and sometimes I will lose hope for a moment,<br />
whisper to myself<br />
and cry<br />
and look up to the heavens<br />
asking “what did I do?”<br />
<br />
But I will wait<br />
because you will always be worth waiting for,<br />
even if I must endure<br />
the silence.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-1074440413510631472012-12-17T14:07:00.001-08:002012-12-17T14:07:21.124-08:00All That’s Left Is Love<br />
There will be no more<br />
tickling little piggies<br />
sniffing little heads<br />
or kissing little cheeks<br />
<br />
There will be no more<br />
skipping in the sunshine<br />
drawing on the sidewalk<br />
tying shoes on little feet<br />
<br />
There will only be a memory<br />
hearts torn open wide<br />
whispers scattered on the wind<br />
and pain for them to hide<br />
<br />
I don’t believe this makes sense<br />
but I really wish I could<br />
I can’t believe in any God<br />
that I never understood<br />
<br />
There will be no more tucking in<br />
no more rousing sleepyheads<br />
no more checking in the night<br />
are they breathing in their beds<br />
<br />
wish I could just undo it all<br />
wish there were a reason from above<br />
but all that’s left, though it seems small -<br />
is love, love, love. <br />
<br />
<br />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-40108186764066973962012-08-09T18:17:00.000-07:002012-08-09T18:20:45.623-07:00Constellation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ffjM9j7liwQ/UCRhv-2T1XI/AAAAAAAAAec/swJM6A3E5Ko/s1600/999258309_JzjYV-M-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ffjM9j7liwQ/UCRhv-2T1XI/AAAAAAAAAec/swJM6A3E5Ko/s320/999258309_JzjYV-M-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Constellation </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What are the chances? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of all the stars in the sky </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
over all the oceans vast and blue
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of all the chatter </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
through
etheral fiber optic threads </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and backlit story-telling tablets </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of all the choices to connect</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
look into blue and green </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
look into minds and hearts </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what are the chances </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to click into place </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
like legos and locks </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and there begins</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a new and whispered constellation, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sparks in obsidian,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
us.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-49940725361742228232012-02-13T12:34:00.000-08:002012-02-14T07:50:45.182-08:00My Heart Beats with Yours<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BqM0ZpbTxsI/TzqCxIDn0FI/AAAAAAAAAZE/X-bo402nRSA/s1600/IMG_1018.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BqM0ZpbTxsI/TzqCxIDn0FI/AAAAAAAAAZE/X-bo402nRSA/s320/IMG_1018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709019258133401682" /></a><br /><br />My heart beats with yours<br />it has since that first beat<br />my dreams live with yours<br />the bitter and the sweet<br /><br />When you feel scared or nervous<br />I do too<br />because that’s what moms and kids<br />just do<br /><br />When you are feeling happy<br />I can’t help but smile<br />your laughter lights the sky right up<br />of that there’s no denial<br /><br />And when you’re sleepy, murmuring softly<br />“mama, I love you”<br />my hearts beats with yours<br />and always will<br /><br />My heart beats with yours <br />and always willKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-70004827045233351942012-01-28T05:47:00.000-08:002012-01-28T06:02:13.702-08:00She Waits for YouShe's standing in the midnight mist<br />wandering about the place<br />thinking of you all the time<br />watching for any flash of lights<br />to say that you're awake<br /><br />Pining night and day,<br />you're always on her mind <br />she writes your name in cursive <br />over and over<br />her sweetest desire is to make you <br />hers.<br /><br />She stood a few steps away from you<br /> just last week in that bookstore<br />in the sparkling, oceany, New England town<br />and whispered your name<br />but, mistaking her for someone else<br />you put the book back down<br />and walked away<br /><br />She broke a little that day<br />but she's pretty used to it by now<br />and so much tougher than her delicate beating would indicate<br />you can try to ignore her<br />but she'll never go away<br /><br />she's sneaky like that<br />she'll just come back again<br />when <br />you're more tired of not living your dreams<br />and more ready to listen<br />to<br />your<br />heart.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-25496023406574397932012-01-28T05:38:00.001-08:002012-10-07T16:55:55.935-07:00Your Heart Prays for Rain (song)Some hearts pray for sunshine<br />
and some hearts pray for wind<br />
some hearts wish for calm clear days<br />
to let more light fall in<br />
<br />
Some hearts pray for green leaves<br />
dancing in the sun<br />
but yours needs water, baby<br />
its dance has just begun<br />
<br />
I hate to break it to you, <br />
but your heart prays for rain<br />
<br />
if hearts can ever have a chance<br />
to glisten, glow and gleam<br />
to dance alone under the stars<br />
and not be what they seem<br />
<br />
if they will ever know the day <br />
they have to know the night<br />
they have to get it wrong a lot<br />
if they'll ever get it right<br />
<br />
after every broken heart <br />
kings horses and his men<br />
come riding into town<br />
some grey day <br />
and set it right again<br />
<br />
your heart's on a journey brilliant<br />
courage is its name<br />
your heart knows just what it needs<br />
and your heart prays for rainKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-76630980526326615792012-01-18T20:17:00.000-08:002012-02-14T07:52:57.238-08:00I’m Not Your Pilgrimage (song)I’m not your pilgrimage<br />Not what’s over the next ridge<br />I’m not a golden bridge <br />to your new life<br /><br />And though you must know<br />that I don’t really want to go<br />I’m not your pilgrimage<br />this much, I know<br /><br />It’s a pretty long flight<br />black, and a million stars in sight<br />not one of them<br />whispers your name<br /><br />But if I listen close<br />I hear what matters most<br />I’m not your pilgrimage<br />this much, I know<br /><br />Sometimes I want to go back there<br />that reckless, careless time we once shared<br />like climbing through clouds in a wicked storm<br />bursting through to find a clear new morn<br /><br />I’m not your Berlin Wall<br />though you had to make it fall<br />to find your <br />solitary brand new day<br /><br />And I wasn’t your last stand<br />but given the choice I can <br />appreciate <br />that it must have felt that way<br /><br />I’m not your pilgrimage<br />Not what’s over the next ridge<br />I’m not a golden bridge <br />to your new life<br /><br />And though you must know<br />that I didn’t really want to go<br />I’m not your pilgrimage<br />this much, I know<br /><br />this much, I know.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-7787163986645993272012-01-09T21:12:00.000-08:002013-04-18T12:14:01.235-07:00He Burned Incense in His Car (a song)<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAByEOKeXVg/Twx9WSKBBQI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gaDcAHdZoM0/s1600/couples.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696065450501276930" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAByEOKeXVg/Twx9WSKBBQI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gaDcAHdZoM0/s320/couples.png" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 294px;" /></a><br />
He burned incense in his car<br />
talked of travel near and far<br />
threw his arm around my shoulder<br />
in a carefree sort of way<br />
<br />
He spoke French and Portuguese<br />
and swept in on the breeze<br />
of my freedom, newly minted<br />
shining in the Boston sun<br />
<br />
But things aren’t always as they seem<br />
this guy was the star of his own dreams<br />
<br />
Would you like to know what happened next?<br />
So would I<br />
So would I<br />
I think it went something like this:<br />
I<br />
learned <br />
to <br />
love<br />
me.<br />
<br />
He wrote poetry and prose<br />
he shook me to my toes<br />
he taught meditation <br />
I had no hesitation<br />
<br />
He practiced yoga too<br />
tell me what in the hell would you do<br />
with a man that fabulous<br />
oh, he was mysterious<br />
<br />
Invited me to couples yoga<br />
I never wanted it to be over<br />
<br />
But things aren’t always as they seem<br />
this guy was the star of his own dreams<br />
<br />
Would you like to know what happened next?<br />
So would I<br />
So would I<br />
I think it went something like this<br />
I<br />
learned <br />
to <br />
love<br />
me.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-48079945181466625762012-01-07T17:35:00.000-08:002012-01-10T21:02:23.374-08:00Someone to Believe (song)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F8xqtgj8Q04/Twj5iF5V0dI/AAAAAAAAAUw/43G5Q3HvDKc/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F8xqtgj8Q04/Twj5iF5V0dI/AAAAAAAAAUw/43G5Q3HvDKc/s320/IMG_0164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695076092903543250" /></a><br />Day after day<br />night after night<br />keep hoping things will turn out all right<br />Dream after dream<br />sigh after sigh<br />I turn my face up to the evening sky<br /><br />I just want someone <br />to believe<br />that I can<br /><br />it would feel so nice<br />a taste of paradise<br />if I just had someone to believe<br /><br />I was a 7 year old <br />shoving permission slips under my mom's nose<br />“just sign here” -- I handed her the pen (‘cause I was going)<br />I was a high school girl<br />claiming I’d see the world<br />(Stockholm really is a magical place)<br /><br />I just want someone <br />to believe<br />that I can<br /><br />it would feel so nice<br />some sugar to my spice<br />if I just had someone to believe<br /><br />I know they see things through their limitations,<br />but can’t they just encourage my ruminations?<br /><br />I just want someone <br />to believe<br />that I can<br /><br />it would feel so nice<br />a taste of paradise<br />if I just had someone to believe<br /><br />I just want someone to believeKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-53637576154940314092012-01-06T16:24:00.000-08:002012-01-06T16:41:02.535-08:00I Remember (a song)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2VUeMZWvw30/TweURHlidDI/AAAAAAAAAUo/6ANW1-zuaoo/s1600/IMG_2320.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2VUeMZWvw30/TweURHlidDI/AAAAAAAAAUo/6ANW1-zuaoo/s320/IMG_2320.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694683275648463922" /></a><br />I remember<br />the feeling<br />all butterflies and smiling<br />landing<br />almost into the ocean<br /><br />I remember<br />the feeling<br />all warmth and skin and wanting<br />landing<br />into your arms again<br /><br />There was so much longing<br />wanting, missing<br />for all those whispered years<br />There were so many <br />airplanes and airports <br />and <br />so many salty tears<br /><br />I remember<br />the dreaming<br />all perfect lives and picket fences<br />landing<br />almost into my dreams<br /><br />I remember<br />the dreaming<br />all laughter and a family<br />landing <br />almost into the truth<br /><br />There was so much longing<br />wanting, missing<br />for all those whispered years<br />There were so many <br />airplanes and airports <br />and <br />so many salty tears<br /><br />Now that that’s the past<br />and fantasies don’t last<br />what’s come to be<br />is yet more sweet and true -<br />it’s the precious, dreamed-for life <br />of loving you.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-20178786307271234292011-11-18T16:29:00.001-08:002011-11-18T16:56:42.176-08:00My Heart Won’t Let Go. (a song)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OPG0VIJP52w/Tsb-w0Z7ZvI/AAAAAAAAASE/ASevO6ouYPI/s1600/image002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OPG0VIJP52w/Tsb-w0Z7ZvI/AAAAAAAAASE/ASevO6ouYPI/s320/image002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676504495001659122" /></a><br />There are days that I<br />think of us <br />when we were 20<br />and I know that those days are long<br />long gone<br /><br />There are nights that I<br />think of us <br />driving <br />across the Alps in the moonlight<br />we were so young<br /><br />Yes I know <br />very well<br />those days are not<br />today<br /><br />And I know<br />that you’ve mostly been<br />far away<br /><br />And you’re happy now <br />with someone else<br />and <br />I <br />am <br />too.<br /><br />But my heart won’t let go <br />of you.<br /><br /><br />There are days that I<br />reach for the phone<br />to call you<br />but I know it wouldn’t<br />be wise<br /><br />There are nights that I<br />think of you<br />sleeping<br />next to her<br />and I truly hope<br /><br />that you’re happy<br />and life is sweet<br />that you hold her hand <br />when you walk down the street<br />that all your dreams have finally come true<br />and don’t forget that I’ll always<br /><br />love.<br /><br />you.<br /><br />Yes I know <br />very well<br />those days are not<br />today<br /><br />And I know<br />that you’ve mostly been<br />far away<br /><br />And you’re happy now <br />with someone else<br />and <br />I <br />am <br />too.<br /><br />But my heart won’t let go <br />of you.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-61221835418592817652011-04-21T20:55:00.000-07:002011-04-21T21:09:55.574-07:00Beauty (a song)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eZ_fKED29MA/TbD_UIDA18I/AAAAAAAAANM/g-l8ppe2i2g/s1600/IMG_2500.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eZ_fKED29MA/TbD_UIDA18I/AAAAAAAAANM/g-l8ppe2i2g/s320/IMG_2500.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598255058044114882" /></a><br />the curve of her hips<br />and her belly too<br />the sway of the dance<br />when she’s holding you<br /><br />the curve of her lips<br />the questions they ask<br />it’s how she makes sense<br />of all of her past<br /><br />she’s growing wise<br />before your eyes<br />and it’s no surprise<br />when you realize<br />her magic she’ll hold<br />when things seem so cold<br />in the shimmering bold<br />all her stories are told<br /><br />the curve of her hand<br />her laughter too<br />that look in her eyes<br />it just might get you through<br /><br />the curve of her back<br />as you pull her close<br />it’s all you need to feel<br />it’s what she needs the mostKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-49434100239823024992011-03-07T07:55:00.000-08:002011-03-13T12:55:30.717-07:00hope (poem)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7M-EQpN92SI/TXUEGyag8WI/AAAAAAAAAMw/sr3fHpjFWHA/s1600/Bonfire%2Bbeach2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7M-EQpN92SI/TXUEGyag8WI/AAAAAAAAAMw/sr3fHpjFWHA/s400/Bonfire%2Bbeach2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581371827854307682" /></a><br /><br /><br />once upon a full moon,<br />I released any hope for our future.<br />took it all to the shore and <br />lit a huge bonfire <br />of the dreams I painted<br />on your skin.<br /><br />now that the ocean<br />has washed away the images,<br />i see you more clearly<br />than before.<br /><br />And you know what?<br />I still want you<br />and I still want us.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-19699474765308803572011-02-05T20:24:00.000-08:002012-01-09T21:40:10.177-08:00It might as well be a mile (poem)we sit up in bed<br />the bed that should be cradling the love we share<br />enveloping our wanting, tender bodies <br />while we spark and flame in the dark<br /><br />these machines<br />the same ones that <br />brought us together<br />and became our glue<br />for those wanting, breathless years<br /><br />they have turned on us<br />now they allow us to avoid each other<br />steel and circuits turned to chasm,<br />how in the hell did this happen?<br /><br />So arrogant, I would never <br />have believed that we<br />would end up like them<br />not even for one day or one night<br /><br />And here we sit <br />in this bed<br />staring into these screens<br /><br />And all I want<br />is for you to put that machine over there<br />hold me close<br />whisper that you don’t ever want to be like them<br />like all the others<br /><br />take the safest risk of all<br />how is it you can’t see me, <br />i am right here.<br /><br />And though we are only about 14 inches apart<br />it might as well be a mile, tonight.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-13862767721751521972011-01-08T22:02:00.000-08:002011-01-08T22:11:25.256-08:00Snugged (a poem)Snugged up to you,<br />comfort.<br />Snugged up to me,<br />curves.<br /><br />Snugged in your arms,<br />smiling.<br />Snugged next to me.<br />flirty words.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-26402294944245479942010-12-09T08:56:00.001-08:002011-04-21T21:10:56.377-07:00Party<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TQEML19aMAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/hibxgUmWa28/s1600/DSCF1740.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TQEML19aMAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/hibxgUmWa28/s320/DSCF1740.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548729613499904002" /></a><br /><br />My dear friends PJ and Lyra. It was Lyra’s 60th birthday party and it was FABULOUS! We circle-danced, we sang, we chanted, we hugged. I was honored to be invited and I hope Lyra does it again when she’s 65 or 70. :)<br /><br />I want to be Lyra when I grow up. (Lyra is in the amazing blue gown with the awesomely silver hair.)<br /><br />xoxo,<br />kKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-34429317103375572072010-10-09T06:36:00.000-07:002010-10-14T15:16:24.368-07:00desire (poem)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TLeBJ95NoLI/AAAAAAAAALw/O_zrXIw-Pqo/s1600/IMG_1813.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TLeBJ95NoLI/AAAAAAAAALw/O_zrXIw-Pqo/s320/IMG_1813.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528029075853910194" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">your lips to mine<div>tongue asking to dance</div><div>hands in my hair, possessing</div><div>all you can possess</div><div><br /></div><div>the strength of your body</div><div>a rarely shared and magical</div><div>secret</div><div>few have been honored to know</div><div><br /></div><div>your wanting</div><div>close to the surface,</div><div>deep as the ocean floor</div><div>secrets, only I know </div><div>only you know</div><div><br /></div><div>let me lay the weight of this </div><div>pleasure on you like a thick blanket </div><div>in winter,</div><div>the familiar and comforting curves </div><div>of my body</div><div>welcoming and warming you</div><div><br /></div><div>our fire</div><div>burns brightly blue</div><div>you, the matches and kindling</div><div>I, the oxygen and spark,</div><div>consummation,</div><div>and the wild, licking flames </div><div>of desire</div></span>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-71404910876945670872010-06-21T21:08:00.000-07:002010-09-28T09:20:17.986-07:00Summer Has Arrived (song)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TCA5mLGEGSI/AAAAAAAAALA/1hDdd81dOQQ/s1600/IMG_1093.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TCA5mLGEGSI/AAAAAAAAALA/1hDdd81dOQQ/s400/IMG_1093.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485447674113300770" /></a><br />Wistfully watch the moon rise<div>it’s almost getting full</div><div>the gravity of your heart on mine -</div><div>I can almost feel the pull</div><div><br /></div><div>night is nearly fallen</div><div>in the indigo prairie sky --</div><div>with you, I wish I was, tonight</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>the fireflies, whispering</div><div>summer has arrived</div><div>I’d give a lot of summer dreams </div><div>just to sing you a lullaby</div><div><br /></div><div>summer has arrived</div><div>the juice drips down my chin</div><div>another day to be amazed</div><div>at this world we live in</div><div><br /></div><div>fireflies, whispering</div><div>how do they know I love you so?</div><div>I wrote this summer song tonight</div><div>because I wanted - just wanted -</div><div>you to know.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-40158387336798875312010-05-18T19:57:00.000-07:002012-10-20T19:02:40.934-07:00The Library (poem)<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TLeCPtYuhoI/AAAAAAAAAMA/hM6Fz9jqjE8/s1600/library.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528030274013529730" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/TLeCPtYuhoI/AAAAAAAAAMA/hM6Fz9jqjE8/s320/library.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 185px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 273px;" /></a><br />
<div align="center">
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Walk the stacks</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
skim the shelves</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
search for tales</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
known so well</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
what you read</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
is up to you</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
will you choose</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
as lovers do?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
thoughts will write</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the tale of us</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
pick the words</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
heart, heat and lust</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
within the spines</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the new, the old</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
ancient whispers</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
lives retold</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
within one’s power</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
to keep on reading</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
or sigh</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
decide that it was fleeting</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I pause and draw a volume down</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the cover set with jeweled crowns</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
a million stars</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
a moonlit night</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
my lover’s lips within my sight</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I turn the page and laugh</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
pick up a pen and graph</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
trajectory of these two hearts</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
pages ripping, stops and starts</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the rest will be of our own making</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
what blaze of glory, what fate creating</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
what task, what faith, to love and wait</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the writing of our story, great.</div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-71505459867582939242010-02-27T20:04:00.000-08:002010-02-27T20:16:28.896-08:00CourageThe light keeps blinking blue,<div>I want red.</div><div><br /></div><div>my patience sits</div><div>my heart has no door </div><div>"I am here for you" </div><div>"I am here for you"</div><div>"I am here for you."</div><div><br /></div><div>whether it's stupid or wise</div><div>it's what I do:</div><div>I love</div><div>I just</div><div>love.</div><div><br /></div><div>no, really</div><div>I am beautiful</div><div>I am smart</div><div>I am funny</div><div>and a little too sensitive</div><div>but that's how I love so well</div><div><br /></div><div>And no, for the millionth time</div><div>my friends,</div><div>I do not need a man</div><div>I do not need a man</div><div><br /></div><div>I want one.</div><div><br /></div><div>And there is a big difference.</div><div><br /></div><div>the risk of loving this big</div><div>is that no one will have the courage </div><div>to accept all they are given</div><div>to surrender</div><div><br /></div><div>I will love fiercely</div><div>I will love with laughter</div><div>I will love with fire</div><div><br /></div><div>I will love with </div><div>the waters of the monsoon</div><div><br /></div><div>Who will be my King?</div><div><br /></div><div>Who has the courage?</div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-53903071329461505092010-02-26T21:08:00.000-08:002010-02-26T21:15:25.569-08:00If I Were There (song)<div><br /></div>If I were there.<div><br /></div><div>If you were here.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd take your hands.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd call you "dear."</div><div><br /></div><div>But in Italian,</div><div><br /></div><div>because that's what we do...</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd press my lips to yours</div><div><br /></div><div>and say "I love you."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If I were there.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you were here.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd shed a tear</div><div><br /></div><div>but have no fear.</div><div><br /></div><div>You'd hold me close</div><div><br /></div><div>so safe I'd feel</div><div><br /></div><div>We'd do what's true.. </div><div><br /></div><div>we'd share what's real. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-22766199704795640402009-12-09T15:09:00.000-08:002010-06-28T06:57:44.847-07:00I know. (a song)I know<div>sometimes</div><div>I know </div><div>sometimes</div><div><br /></div><div>The walls around the person that I long to be</div><div>I build them high, so high I can not see</div><div>I can't see you</div><div>and worse, </div><div>I can't see me</div><div><br /></div><div>I know</div><div>I know sometimes</div><div>I say things that I don't even recognize</div><div>as coming from these lips</div><div>that pressed to yours</div><div>turn up and smile with joy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes</div><div>I know</div><div>I fall into a place I don't recognize</div><div>far from the rosy-colored world that is mine</div><div>if only I could stop dragons from </div><div>blowing fire on my secret garden.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know</div><div>sometimes</div><div>I know.</div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-39272223861693737972009-12-07T20:16:00.000-08:002009-12-07T20:20:43.382-08:00Don't Forget To Look<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; border-collapse: collapse; "><span dir="ltr">Once you see people, beneath the surface, once you really get them to talk, it's amazing what you hear from each and every soul walking the earth.</span><div dir="ltr">Amazing.</div><div dir="ltr">If you can really be Present with someone, really look them in the heart . . .the beauty is endless.</div><div dir="ltr">Sometimes when I'm walking through the airport, which I do almost every month, I look at all the travelers walking to their flights and I think about all their stories, their histories,</div><div dir="ltr">their desires to paint or write or raise chickens or sail the oceans of the world, you know?</div><div dir="ltr">I look for the Love in them</div><div dir="ltr">even and especially in those that don't seem to possess it. It is there. We have to look for it.</div><div dir="ltr">It is there.</div><div dir="ltr">It's breathtaking when you open your eyes to another being that way.</div><div dir="ltr">Most of us only do it when we fall in love</div><div dir="ltr">then we forget to Look at our loved one, or anyone, once the newness wears off. </div><div dir="ltr"><br /></div><div dir="ltr">Don't forget to Look. </div></span>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-68438045485424427252009-10-27T21:00:00.000-07:002009-10-27T21:05:01.459-07:00Autumn at the Parker River Wildlife Sanctuary, Plum Island, Massachusetts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/SufCzpZHs8I/AAAAAAAAAJI/AC30c_XAN_0/s1600-h/IMG_2548.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/SufCzpZHs8I/AAAAAAAAAJI/AC30c_XAN_0/s400/IMG_2548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397496870967161794" border="0" /></a>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33771057.post-38916169973519257222009-10-27T20:57:00.000-07:002009-10-27T21:06:07.654-07:00Autumn in West Newbury, Massachusetts<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/SufBHiJtH6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/Vlj7QTY0asI/s1600-h/IMG_2518.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PGfBirWal4E/SufBHiJtH6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/Vlj7QTY0asI/s400/IMG_2518.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06151112793500487494noreply@blogger.com0