Kim Dang

Rookie - 0 Points [Kim Possible Dang] (United States)

Kim Dang Poems

1. Firsts. 11/29/2008
2. The Brevity In Maybe. 12/7/2008
3. Easy. 12/10/2008
4. Still Wonderful. 1/9/2009
5. Concrete Reflections. 2/6/2009
6. And I Want... 2/22/2009
7. Smother. 3/7/2009
8. Obliviously Perspiring. 3/17/2009
9. The Role Of A Siren. 3/28/2009
10. Standing Still. 4/18/2009
11. Rude Awakenings. 4/18/2009
12. Curse It. 4/30/2009
13. Self Fulfilling Prophecy 5/21/2009
14. Fingertips On My Back. 5/28/2009
15. Hyperventilations. 7/2/2009
16. Used. 8/4/2009
17. Finding (Love) . 9/6/2009
18. Real World. 9/27/2009
19. That Some Day. 10/28/2009
20. Undeserving. 11/4/2009
21. Offering. 11/9/2009
22. Apathy. 12/8/2009
23. Learning. 2/10/2010
24. Nothing's Going To Change My World 5/20/2010
25. I Was Asked To Choose. 6/4/2010
26. Crash. 7/13/2010
27. Pauses. 10/10/2007
28. Broken 10/10/2007
29. Please. Forgive Me. 10/10/2007
30. Nothing's Wrong. 10/10/2007
31. Whirlwind Of A Person 7/30/2012
32. The Feels Of The Climb 3/20/2016
33. Athletic Delights 10/10/2007
34. Plunging. 10/10/2007
35. Committed. 10/10/2007
36. Through. 10/10/2007
37. Avoiding 10/10/2007
38. Ground You. 10/10/2007
39. Friends Only. 10/10/2007
40. Mis-Placed Cravings. 10/10/2007
Best Poem of Kim Dang

Commodity.

A civil war rages onwards
between my mind's freedom vs. my
will's institutionalized cage.
Every action premeditated to appease
my academic overlords, my C.V.
Every wavering thought betraying the efficiency
at hand, because I'm wondering.
I ponder outside my self made
cubicle and it deafens me with the
loudest NO.

I'm not allowed!
outside these boundaries
my guilt will hound me
and admittedly as these hours flit by
I'm not as carefree.
I've lost that fight years ago,
when I checked out of my multitasking fantasy
When I left my pipe ...

Read the full of Commodity.

Through.

My gaze guides me past this window,
however strong the sunlight reminds me of its tainted sills,
like burning lime juice on dry parchment to reveal those hidden messages.

My gaze pierces through the passerbys walking horizontal to my box-like view, reels of film clips that never repeat themselves.
It takes me beyond the nightly murmurs of frat row number two, the bases that pound to make me miss each crickets chirping.
I am left to just gaze, my lashes barely touching the pane eve

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