Best Breda Poems

Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café

We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet...

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THE CANDLE

candles gulp and flicker
in a new altitude 
old caves of crazy
waxed out warning
stars 
plummeting to their
dark new address
less stressed
than before

in absence I revolve
shrouded in my resolve
of deceitful sheets
a constellation
shattered rainbows
and chandelier
antiques

© Kim van Breda...

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insomnia night after night 
restlessness tense & disturbed
lying awake the mind modifies
mutates
preceding delusional dreams
consciousness remains alert 
creative and mindful words emerge
falling like puzzle pieces 
perfectly clear
brain on the ball
title transparent
insomnia creates 
another verse

and so it continues.. imagination 
inspired though sleepless despair
bedside lamps beam gentle glow...

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"Poetry Souper Heroes:  The Sequel"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

As we last saw, Anita Sharma was coming in
What's that Melody Thomas, I had to ask my friend
It's called Falling Raindrops, Kim Patrice Nunez is the singer
By German composer Kim van Breda, rumor has it she's...

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Breaking Dawn

Night sky frays to day
Headlights make holes in the slate
Driving out the dark



© September 2013—Kim van Breda...

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PEOPLE WHO DON’T SAY GOODBYE

people who don’t say goodbye
are born this way and this is
how they die 
keepers of promises
hearing the fake on your
take and turning it 
into an original copy

a lifetime of open doors
holding on before the
letting go
strangers who need
strangers lighting
candles of loyalty
 tearing...

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I look at remains of the morning craving
it deep
more time to manage my life
and complete
Can my cramped life handle one
more thing?
can the eyes of our soul see
life’s swing?
No single advantage gained
to hurry
a thousand broken things missed
to flurry
Bulls in a china shop we break
our lives
missing precious...

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waking to timidity of the
psyche
the day feels doomed not 
right

push through it all till night
fall
arriving home he seems so
tall

sensing weakness starts a 
fight
pushing all buttons with
insight

trying to remain calm and
strong
he wins- trophy tears
torch-song


© October 2013—Kim van Breda...

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Desire
His wide shoulders
Flowed to narrowed waist
Her eyes locked on his vast manhood
Muscled sculpture captured smooth perfection
Her tongue caressed his lower lip
Spreading thighs he entered
Fulfilling her
Desire





© Kim van Breda – 22 October 2014...

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Beauty
So exquisite
Mirrored wrong perceptions
Disguising hidden reflections
Of past hurts and life’s cruel condemnation
Lies beneath the surface
Obscured mask of
Beauty



© Kim van Breda- 20 October 2014...

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CASTRATED

In ebony
air on flight
through night
nothing is
big or too 
far off

figuratively 
speaking streams 
forgetful surf
high pitch screams
sandpits churn
tough turf
a wastage
of
egg rock
inert



© Kim van Breda—10 November 2015...

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RUBBISHITROCKS

rubbish bins rot their
stenchsimmers in dark
lanes
the gluttony of pots
slopslaughters of 
remains

rodents hiding behind 
verminrocks
stonethrowers
feeble weedywarts
carcasses fried with
flies in the  heat
of stillstopping
hearts

who knock at the door with violins unstrung…
to bid enter would force a
stand before their 
watercoloured
court

where writes turn
to anaemic
amoebia’s of the
fragileflopfaint

verses of yawn open...

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SUMMER FALLS

April heralds Summers March
as she  leaves behind her warm glow
in blazing trail of red and orange hues

pursued by winds she trips and Falls
chastened to submit to colder paths
stormy clouds-- thunderous showers

shedding garments of leaves and color
exposes herself baring dark squall bruises
behind fragmented damp...

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ANTS HOG GLEN

Fiery red burns
Autumn orange
Army ants learn
How to hog Glen
High winged pigs
Fly blue in tune
Suctioning mouths
Pulling helium 
Balloons

	



© Kim van Breda—18 November 2015...

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THE CAT SAT ON THE MAT

this perfect poem of mine
will rhyme in every line
no stanza’s out of time
or thoughts that drift sublime

the cat sat on the mat
her body round and fat
and when you stroke her fur
rewards you with a purr

blah…blah…fishpaste !

we all love faithful dogs
who...

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