Undefined by kkc

They were labeled, stamped, put into a box.

The rules and stereotypes defined them.

You must look this way, act that way.

Society dictated how they were to be.

Defined people are not truly free,

they answer to the powers that be.

It is the undefined ones that rise up.

They worry not about what is supposed to be.

Their spirit is free, their minds are released.

Live outside crushed boxes with no labels.

It is in them to thrive with no boundaries.

Undefined people answer to no one.

Undefined people answer their own call.- kkc

Find my paperback of soul poetry “Undefined” at http://www.lulu.com

also my work is on Amazon for Kindle at Kimberly Cunningham- Verra Licht, Aurora’s Borealises, Rise Up For Love and Undefined…more writings in the works.


My writings come from my heart about people I know or do not know or never have known. The pen is mightier than any weapon there is against mankind. I write what comes to me and have no boundaries. Listen with your heart, read with your soul…peace.



Held by kkc

Held by kkc
    Walking across the scars of my past wasn’t hard. Those wounds were sealed many thousands of suns ago. What was difficult was keeping the sounds out of my ears and the smells out of my nostrils. The senses remember and never let go. My skin still feels the violations as if they just occurred. Memories are stored in my mind and have remained in tact since they were first deposited.
     Pain comes from the hidden truth. Voiceless victim that never got to tell. I once was that person. My fear was in my innocence. Retreating within was the security precaution that kept me guarded. Detached from the whole thing and proceeded along in life, ya I did that. Strength came later. At the time it was survivor mode.
     Threats whispered from a hot sour breath kept me surrendered. Paralyzed by just a few words, I never tried to tell. In my mind I travelled to the ocean and floated away during the invasions. It was peaceful there, the breeze was gentle and the smell was salty and fresh. I stayed there as long as it took. After the grunts and groans, I came back from my sea voyage and walked away. I would return there again countless times.
     No one ever asked because I didn’t allow the questions to be shown. A scared child can keep secrets very well. Secretly I hoped someone would see my begging eyes. That never happened. Good grades in school, teacher’s pet, popularity were all distractions. I learned how to keep busy so I could forget. Intelligence came easy to me so I hungered to learn. Stuck my nose in books which took me away and out of the reality zone.
     Managed to flourish and do well in spite of all that happened. Still I hoped that one person would help me. Sleepwalking and night terrors were part of my childhood for years. There was never an explanation for it. Doctors said kids do that as part of their development. Reoccurring dreams of me being chased by my atracker went on throughout my growing up. Each time I jumped off a cliff to escape him but woke up right before I hit the ground.
     One day in class I learned that I had a voice and I had power. The teacher said we could be anything we wanted to be. I wanted to be free. She said that if someone is touching you and making you feel uncomfortable it is wrong. By then I was 14 and ten years of bad touches had passed. That day a light shined on me.
     Opportunity has a strange way of presenting itself at times. Knowing the patterns and habits of my predator, I lay in wait. A baseball bat also lay in wait. First touch on me was the signal. Grabbing the hidden bat, I whacked the perpritrator’s knee caps,dropping him to the ground. I drove that bat into him 9 more times totalling ten for the number of years I was molested. Power and strength were mine.
     No words were ever spoken. He knew it was done. My wings grew that day and they lifted me. I took my life back and kept on soaring from then on. Years were spent waiting for an apology as if that would repair some of the damage. Never was there anything said to me. As I moved on I still carried the weight and felt as if he never stopped.
     Healing would have to come from me. Penning a letter of forgiveness allowed my soul to cry and bleed. Everything that had been done to me was laying on three sheets of paper. They were my bandages for my wounds.  

When I finished writing, I ended it by saying that I didn’t need to sign my name because he never called my by it when he was on top of me.
     Flight comes from fight. We cannot rise up unless we have been down. Even the strong people have had weakening experiences. Victims can rise up to be victors. I knew I was a warrior the day I dropped that letter in the mailbox. Nothing could hold me down anymore.

Waiting by kkc

Waiting by kkc
She waited because time told her to.
Things came to a screeching hault.

Plans were altered from what was designed.

Trying to find her best self, she tripped and fell.
Blurry vision showed her obscure things.

Her path was twisted and gnarled here.

Several times she questioned this journey.
She waited because others said she had to.
Grand ideas from her past haunted her.

The way is not this way.

No one could show her.

Had to be sought out.
She waited because she needed permission.
While in this dark place, she saw.

Realization was there in front of her.

Change had to be at her command.

Tear drops ceased, power was unleashed.
She waited to tell them.
No one can dictate her future.

She is in control now.
She waved as she left.

She smiled as she walked away.

She left as a victor.
She waits for no one now.

Grown by kkc

Grown by kkc

Beautiful being became so because of herself.
Harsh realities struck her down several times.
Missed opportunities, misfortune wilted her.
Strong winds swayed this one.
She almost became uprooted.
What no one knew was that she had seeds.
Deep in her clutches she grasped them.
Tenaciously she held those pods.
When they brought her down low,
this relentless one scattered all she had.
New growth rose out of the wreckage.
Beauty came after ugliness.
Sunshine arrived after storms.
Hope awakened from discouraging dreams.
Blooms grew from barren soil.
We all saw how she had grown.
It was magnificent.

Skin and Bones by kkc

Skin and bones, our coat of arms we bear.

Layered on top are labels that people have stuck there.

Too tall, too big, too small, short, skinny, fat, dark, light, ugly, pretty, beautiful, homely.

These layers are so hard to unstick, sometimes time cannot even undo them.

The ones that place them there, are they not judged?

Au contraire, they are categorized too.

We all do it, knowingly or not.

Compartmentalizing is the way to know things.

What if we peeled off the skin to examine the bones?

We would all look the same.

Imagine a place where we all stood level on solid ground.

Think of a land where we all contained no rating.

Dream of oneness.

Skeletons would no longer have a place as their judgement closet would perish.

Underneath the coverings, the skin and bones contain truths and lies.

When our skin and bones find eternal beds, we are all on the same level field then.

la katrina figurine with yellow dress

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com






Last Call by kkc

She sees the sometimes in you.

She hears the lies in the promises.

Her thoughts feel your dreams.

Her mind wanders into yours.

The neverland you created is always there.

Why did you give her a free pass?

She cannot get in, even with force.

You sold her broken words.

She still bought in.

Spent years waiting for your door.

Lots of options to get in were there

but the real entrance was boarded up.

She stood outside the gate while you left.

She saw it all, yet was blind.

Now she won’t try to see anymore.

Soul is scarred, feelings are crushed.

All she could do was run out of view.

Her last breath mumured your name.

You thought you heard her.

Too bad… too late.

Lunar Vision by kkc

Lunar Vision by kkc

I see the moon
and it reminds me
you are on the other side.

Just a flip til it travels past.

Trees stir and hushed sounds whisper.

Secrets call out in the midnight blue hours.

My dark, your light.. both illuminate.

Eyes are blinded here.
Eyes need protection there.

Sitting silently, I wait.

Soon all is displayed for me.
Later you will be lost to darkness.

Moonbeams bend and redirect paths.

Silvery illusions become orange hued realities.

Dance by the lunar light.

My turn comes at the next rotation.

See you at tonight’s reflection.

Hold Up by kkc

Hold Up by kkc

Despair is heavy but hope carries weight too.

One weighs you down the other pulls you up.

How you hold it matters.

Doom and gloom can be crushed with belief.

Carrying both uphill takes strength.

The condition of darkness is temporary.

Light always comes as promised.

Pack a bag of faith and desire.

Escape with courage strapped on tight.

Climb the mountain and move it.

Make way for the future.

Positive rivers flow as boulders are removed.

Strong comes from what you lift up.

Parade Rest by kkc

Parade Rest by kkc
Wobbly old man with a cane,

slowly trudged to the battlefield.
He had to be where they once were.

Soil still smelled like smoldering rot.

Feet, hands, hearts were all laid there.
Breathing like he was still at war,

this dedicated warrior kept on marching.
Carefully treading through weeds,

the gentleman stopped at many spots.

Kneeling down leaving tears each time.

At each location he placed a momento.
Checking his pocketwatch, 

he saw time was coming.

By the end of this mission,

twenty five areas were marked.
Raising his shaking hand for a final salute,

taking care to be precise, he stands tall.
No more looking back.

Slowly he surrenders and takes his place.

“Parade rest,” he whispers as he falls down.
He will be assigned to spot 26.