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.



Wing Man No More by kkc

Broken wing but still tried to fly, he landed on his back in the dirt.

There was no coming back from this misfortune.

Tainted choices greedily made instead of  thoughtful decisions transplanted him here.

His distraught eyes searched around him.

Terminal casualities from his discourse lay scattered at his feet.

Gaping chasms from wounds he inflicted went straight through their bones.

Many times he pushed those wings out of his way so he could steal souls.

Crawling to each fallen one, he screams to them to rise up.

His gritty voice merely comes from his own desperation.

Empty echoes and motionless victims have left a spot for him.

Enormous weight from the cracked wing holds him there now, low and cold.

Nothing more to do except lay down on the bed of brokenness.

Unhinging his wings which immediately fly high, he seeps into the ground.

Lost his chance to soar above all of it, now he watches as beauty takes flight.






Hushed Hearts by kkc

I am pondering putting a collection from submissions of writings and art in a book called Hushed Hearts. This book would contain pieces about childhood abuse be it physical, sexual, mental. It would be designed as a forum for people to help heal, help others heal, speak out, share experiences. Pen names could be used or actual names. Proceeds from the sales would be donated to a cause for children. Any takers? I would accept up to three pieces. You would receive credit for your week under your name or pen name and you would retain all rights to your work. Let me know here if you would be interested in participating in Hushed Hearts. Peace.

Metamorph by kkc

Metamorph by kkc

Tears teach.

Hearts can collide.

Love grows and shows.

Laughs clear out the pain.

Hurt never heals until acceptance comes.

Time cannot walk in straight lines.

Lonely does not thrive.

Minds mend wounds.

Souls shiver.

Linda’s Cry by kkv

Linda’s Cry by kkc

Cry in, cry out, cry silently.
Everything that had been poured on her
flattened her, weakened her, and drowned her.
All she had the boldness and courage to do
was cry.

No strength on the floor to gather.
No one to come and help her.
Nothing was there for her anymore.

Millions of moonbeams had subsided
so that she could lay silently in their leftovers.
Sunshine came and blinded her most days.
This beautiful one who was left to be lost.

No twist of fate existed in her domain.
No knights on horses rode in.
Nowhere could contain her happily.

Excelled at everything, yet lost all of it.
Could not meet expectations that set
on high skyscrapers out of her grasps.
Star student burned out trying to shine more.

Overwhelming expectations chained to doors,
leaving her with not one key that fit the locks.
Alone she was strong but encumbered.
Slipped into a softly babbling brook one day.

No one to yell “wait!”
No one to stop her.
No one to find her til the next day.

Cry, cry, cry.. all she had was her tears.

Then when she was laid out,
all they did was cry, cry, cry.

Floored by kkc

Faded floorboards filled with cracks

upon which your worn out feet tread lightly.

Countless times you paraded back and forth pondering, wondering, lamenting.

Which way do you go?

Which way did you go?

Occassional slivers remind you that dull comfort can still sting at unsuspecting times.

Heel to toe, tippy toe, pounding toes 

all keep pace in accord with your current status.

Smooth surface of highly polished pulp planks contain numerous secrets and well preserved memories.

Creaks and squeaks tell you that there is always a certain easement of situations.

Paces of pain and steps of peace 

all keep your time.

Walk til you cannot go anymore.

Worn out shoes lay cast aside 

where floor meets door.

Empty room with smoothly polished floor

awaits the next pacer.

Until then echoes of silence ring loud and dust settles on the hardwoods.

Raging Waters by kkc

Raging Waters by kkc

Broken woman ascended the spindly stairway to her promised rapture. When she got to the second to the last step, it creaked almost as if it was a warning. Spinning around on her feet, she quickly slid back down the spiral staircase to be painfully ravished instead. Her heart knew all the truths and it bled from all the lies. She chose this landing, though it not be a safe one. Beautiful deceit was going to be her way out. At the diminishing last second, she turned away and got on the elevator that opened it’s smooth shiny doors to her. Her everlasting now was waiting for her past the raging waters which appeared as she got off the elevator. All she had to do was take the plunge. Swept away in glorious light and wonderous warmth, she is free. All is washed away and forgotten in this moment. Caught up in a new rapture now, she dissolves into her soul.

Light On the Subject by kkc

What if the sun left us? What would we be then? No way to be warm, and feel light and flourish. Continuing in a dark blinding path would not allow for progression. Man versus man and man versus nature would mesh together as one large coexistent idea. It is said that only the strong survive but who would be strong among masses of feeble and weak beings? The finality of black days and non existent nights, how would one endure that and rise up against it? If the sun left, all living things would begin to perish so rapidly, some would go in a fit of self destruction. Would man out live nature, neigh I think not. Nature has endured the greatest catastrophies and come back morphed into a new way of existence. Man cannot do that for he is weak. Days leaving us and nights imposing on us eternally would demolish all of us. Rays of light bent and crushed and shriveled take everything in their path with them. Sunset on us, would make us see the true light like never before.solar-flare-sun-eruption-energy-39561.jpeg

Mere Images by kkc

Crystal clear reflection in a warped mirror.

Beautiful, terminal and brilliant beauty.

Transitioned her sparkle to darkness.

Life’s intrusions, mate’s invasions were

more toxic than her unending inflictions.

No more could she see her image as whole.

Blinded by all of it, keeps her eyes hidden.

If she could only know and stand in

her awe of her magnificent greatness.

Reflection in her mirror is warped.

Maybe one day she will know she is fairest of them all and beyond.

Window Watcher by kkc

In the window I saw beautiful things propped up and presented.

My wandering eyes sought out the beauty and wanted to buy in.

Dressed magnificently with frills, laces, and bows, it lured me to the store.

Instincts told me to look but do not touch.

Pounding heart overrode those inside pleas leading me closer.

Knowing I had to spend unearned currency, yet I became indebted.

Package it up, I quickly ordered the clerk.

Shiny paper, neatly placed made for a glorious present.

Once in my hand, I began to feel the weight of my prize.

All that glitters, is not glitter.

Scratching and clawing sounds came from with in the square.

In fact, I thought I heard horrible growling noises.

Trembling and breathless I had to tear open my treasure box.

Beastly things arose and filled the air.

Where was my prized perfection?

Deceitful eyes and greedy heart led me to this dilemma.

Now I have obtained a monster that will lead to my demise.

Beautiful things in massive windows are for display only.

Should have never touched, certainly never looked.

Tried stuffing the atrocity back in the box, but it is enormous now.

The horrid thing hops on my back and will not shake loose.

Greed weighs a thousand pounds.

Regret weighs even more.

We cannot have what we don’t need without paying a price.




Getting There by kkc

The place where the light illuminates the pain is the forbidden treasure.

Darkness that stems from blue light seals in hidden elements.

Thought you were escaping, no make that hiding.

Pondering, wandering eyes came along that saw all of it.

You could not kill your view.

Scorching playground upon which you teeter- taughtered is now empty.

When you auditioned for your part, you were not shown your demise.

Something gave way and you walked in the squelching mud.

Dropped to your knees and crawled for countless, agonizing miles.

Struck down so low that dirt seemed like a skyscraper.

Arriving at what you thought was the end of time, you were handed a new clock.

What you thought was… is clearly not.

Journey of just one mile comes one day at a time.

Creeping, inching, gaining distance to rise up.

Victory comes from surviving what was meant to smash you.

Crushed crumbs blow away to expose the remaining shell.

Crisp breeze settles on you and lifts you up.

Now your feet stride along as you walk to your horizon.