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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
~WITH MY EYES~
What do you see?
A wife?
A mother?
A mistress - or maybe a lover?
What is it about her that makes her attractive – sexy even?
Is it her eyes, or the way she smiles?
Is it the way she walks, or the way she talks - even the way she dresses?
Maybe it’s the way the wind teases the rise and fall of her hair as she walks, or the sound of her voice even - soft as birdsong with the sting of summer lightning.
Is it the curve of her breasts or the sway of her hips – the sweet smell that lingers in the air or the skip in your heart as she brushes by you, even when her passing is all but a memory?
Could it be the empathy she shows to others, or the sorrow she hides from the world - a world that makes sense with her inclusion, bringing emptiness with her absence.
Is it the love of the children?
Unhampered by the filters of time and cynicism they see only the universal mother.
The kindness and love.
The forgiveness and understanding.
What do you see?
I see all of the above – I see my wife.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2017
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
Give me reason to live, give me reason to love. Fill my soul full of hope light the stars up above. Let my eyes see the beauty that women desire, let my heart beat with wings to soar high and higher. If none of these things are yours to give then paint me a picture where we both can live. A place full of harmony peaceful and still. Where deaths touch is lost with no fresh graves to fill. This above all will give me reason to love, this will light the stars up above.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
Committing my thoughts to paper instead
Of keeping them locked up safe in my head
Is something I fail to do each day
For the voice in my head has something to say.
Opinions that matter to me seem to bleed
From my heart and my soul with a passionate need
To hold to account all those that have turned
This innocent girl so scarred and so burned
By malicious tongues that stab in the dark
Tearing apart what's left of her heart
With words constructed of tissue and lies
Leaving her empty which I hate and dispise
For I love the fact that I feel for you all
And would happily catch you if ever you fall
To prop you up
To help you stand tall.
To hand you that phone
To help make that call
And talk to the girl that you claim to adore
Even though
I loved her before
She knew you existed
When I had that chance
To walk over to her
and ask her to dance
My timing and luck
We're so out of sync
On that day I first saw her
And caused me to think
Of happily dying
In that sexy girls arms
Instead she succumbed
to my best friend's fake charms.
Words that were empty
And so full of lies
Are spat at me now
As I burn your disguise
Of being the lover I know that your not
Of having no substance
Of unearthing your plot
To bed this woman
To add to to her pain
For you've done this before
Well never again.
I am in love
With this girl you lust for
I am the one
For this woman for sure
As the sun rises on the loneliest days
As eggs are eggs
As corn turns to maize
I am the constant
You come and go
I give my heart
To the woman you stole.
So when you have burned her
The way that I was
Don't knock on my door
For comfort because
Although I claim friendship
It what we have now
Your treatment of others
Sits wrong with me now.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
To the young man who kindly bought me a drink,
I am in my sixties so what did you think,
my reaction would be to advances you made,
when it's over ten years since I last got laid?
I know that the flirting is part of your job,
and my manner and dress sence suggest I'm a snob,
But the thought of your touch on this body neglected,
caused wetness to flow from regions connected,
to lace underwear put on in with the plan,
of making myself seem sexier than,
I feel these days on a day to day basis,
as my labido pulls on a leash unabated,
by what I look like to those who can see,
a different image reflected at me,
by a mirror that traces a secretive life,
of failed attempts by the specialist knife.
To lift and tuck.
Push up and enhance.
Just to seem worthy of life's last dance.
So with stocking tops showing these legs, that once had a shape more alluring instead,
of pathetic old sticks riddled with veins,
purple and blue that this aged old dame,
presents to the world as something that must,
ignite the fires of this younger man's lust.
So I smile at you sweetly and lie like the best,
and offer such statements as false as my breasts.
Although I yearn to have you deep within me,
It's fate that says you're too young to see,
the woman I was a such a long time ago,
whose excitable 'Yes' would replace the sad 'No'.
For the offer sex so passionate then,
is something I yearn for again and again.
So to the young man who winks at me,
so sure what I'd say.
Be careful.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
From transition from the girl that I was,
to the woman I am is not without loss.
My face that drew comments of how pretty I was faded from view which is a pity because, the swelling of breasts not previously there refocused your gaze to that if a stare. And as my hips grew wider so did my butt which wasn't a problem for me as such, but you started to see me as something not right with proportions not fitting a dress far too tight.
Suggestions were made that maybe I should transform my body into something that would, and hopefully then I would be accepted, and favoured within a world that demanded that I should be thin.
But fat is my right, it's who that I am.
It's always my choice to be my own fan.
So love what you look like, demand clothes that fit. Don't squeeze into dresses just because of your tits.
The world should accommodate the woman you are and talk to your face not what's inside your bra.
So here I stand in front of you now, like this poem, not perfect but relevant -somehow.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
Events have caused me to look at my life. To add to my value to lessen my strife. To do all that I planned when I was still young, to live my dreams, to be someone. But events took their turn in the shape of a gun, told by who wields it to kill someone. In the name freedom, country and king beliving that war is a glorious thing - Until. Events cause him to look at his life, to imagine a future, a possible wife. To see the woman in his sight , to lower his weapon, to do what is right. But the life that he longed for is shattered instead as a bullet sends his dreams to the land of the dead.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
"Oh my god that was good" he said, as he rolled off of me to the edge of the bed. Reaching for cigarettes carefully placed, on the bedside table and removing the taste,
of the juices that easily flowed from me when his tongue sent me back to heaven again,
and again with shudders that came to an end with convulsions so violent I had to pretend,
it was you instead of this pig of a man picked up in a bar and replacing the hand, I should have used as originally planned, in gratification of body and soul
with dreams of you with me and filling that hole.
In more ways than one,
and join with my cries as we both start to cum.
But rough hands have left their mark on my butt as he slapped my arse and called me his slut.
Pulling my hair and squeezing my tits, releasing himself in convulsive fits
of profanity as those same rough hands continue to paw
I pray for an end to this life as a whore.
Locked in this world of meaninglessness lies, becoming someone I have learned to dispise.
Dressing to please some sick fantasy
I've lost the girl who used to be me.
With female to female desires suppressed,
that bubble so deeply from inside my chest,
For you.
The lady serves me my coffee each day but all I can do is smile and say,
thank you and hope that one day you will see that my deepest desire is to turn you - into we.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
A while ago someone accused my work of being nothing short of soft porn. Here is my reply.
Hypocrisy is a wonderful thing.
With words said in praise that ultimately sting
the victims of jealously's unfocused bile,
passed on by those with no sense of style.
Stealing men's words, and other men's prose,
like some new skill,
but I can only suppose,
that acceptance of violence,
and the shunning of lust,
shows me a world that ultimately must,
take pride in putting another soul down,
for being this woman instead of a clown,
with feelings and statements,
and nothing to say,
avoiding pains payment,
and choosing to pray,
to someone who hates me for all that I am,
well keep your poor judgement,
I don't give a damn.
Wonten lust and feelings suppressed
are rampant among us and should be expressed.
Not hidden away,
subjected to scorn.
Not put in a box and labelled as porn.
So if my harsh words hit home to you now,
imagine how I feel you miserable cow.
When told that my art is nothing but slime,
brings me no comfort, but at least it is mine,
and not some knock off of a dead poets work,
try finding your own voice you sad little jerk.
Then maybe I will respect your views,
but until that time comes, here is the news.
I have talent.
I have worth.
My voice will be heard to the ends of the earth.
For until someone stops me,
or my muse runs dry,
my pen will speak for all those who cry,
alone in the dark,
with no one hold,
loosing youth's spark,
afraid to grow old.
Being told they're too fat or they need bigger tits,
shopping for clothing to find nothing fits.
Where 'one size fits all' does not include you,
but sexual fetishes probably do.
So keep your opinions,
your judgmental sighs.
I don't need you near me.
I don't need your lies.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
I don't want the world to know my name,
I don't want fortune,
I don't want fame.
I just want my work live on when I die,
and influence those to lonely and shy,
to take that next step,
to smile and say Hey,
to the guy who walks passed them everyday,
who like them is so unsure of himself,
afraid of a life alone on the shelf.
Lacking the courage to break from his shell,
trying to smile a hello to the girl
who looks away and bows her head,
choosing to lower her gaze instead,
of making eye contract,
kickstarting a life,
that could lead her one day to being his wife.
So instead of fame and all that shite,
I will raise my voice in the hope that I might,
reach the ears to those who refuse to hear,
so frightened and lonely and crippled by fear,
your worth is within you,
you're someone to me.
So take that next step,
and learn to live free,
of the doubts that you have,
of how pretty you are,
believe in yourself,
and you will go far.
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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Dimpra Kaleem Poem
As I examine the state of my cum stained bra
Fresh from the laundry but still somehow far
From clean of reminders so obvious still
Of so many lovers with issues to spill
On me not in me for that's not my worth
To make me feel dirty
Not meant to give birth
To the life that would surly be born to this shame
Of being a whore unable to gain
A child that would somehow validate me
As woman, a mother for someone to see
That there is more to this unhappy mess
More that the girl in the tight fitting dress
But even with both ankles in hand
Avoiding the thoughts of babies unplanned
You still take the time from your animal lust
To remove yourself and cum on my bust
Thinking I like it
That it turns me on
Well I'm here to tell you
You're horribly wrong
So next time we meet
Do something for me
Pour me a drink
And see what I see
A woman
A mother
A soul incomplete
So kiss my hand and pull out my seat
Talk about the things that I need
Fall in love with me
Help me plant the seed
That one day would help me bring calm
To a life so messed up
And so full of harm
So full of hate
For this life chosen for me
By some cruel twist of fate.
The End
Copyright © Dimpra Kaleem | Year Posted 2018
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