Hedda Kim

Hedda Kim Multi-Media Experimental Music Artist, Experimental Musician, Experimental Art, Spoken Word Artist

05/29/2026

✨ POEM: “The Algorithm Misread My Aura”
for the daughter of a scientist who became a mystic
by Hedda Kim | 2021

🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from “Neural Resonance - Tales from the OmniSphere”

The algorithm misread my aura.
Diagnosed me with “lightworker tendencies”
and a mild dependency on cosmic approval.
It never saw the daughter of a scientist
who dissected miracles like specimens
and learned to tell the difference
between intuition and imbalance.

“The Algorithm Misread My Aura” is for every woman
who’s been labeled oracle, healer, priestess,
when all she was doing
was surviving with style.

It’s the story of being projected on like some cosmic movie screen, consumed, occasionally and uncomfortably worshipped, and finally…walking out of the temple with your boundaries intact.

These days, when the algorithm tries to shove me
into a spiritual starter pack with moon-phase marketing
and $11.11 wisdom downloads,
I just block the bots, smudge the screen with sarcasm, and whisper:

I’m not your angel or your succubus…
just a wordsmith with an attitude problem
and decent Wi-Fi.

05/22/2026

🍞 POEM: “Breadcrumbs” (for the ones who toss crumbs and call it care)
by Hedda Kim | 2025
🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from “Neural Resonance - Tales from the OmniSphere”

🪶 Some people offer love like a feast.
Others offer it like a famine.

“Breadcrumbs” is for the ones who give just enough to keep you starving;
a spark, a flicker, a “maybe” every few days
while you convince yourself it’s fire.

Breadcrumbing isn’t affection.
It’s control disguised as hope.

And sometimes the only way out of the woods
is to stop following the crumbs
and bake your own damn bread.

This poem is the refusal.
The shutting of the door.
The doorbell I’m not bothering to check…

the offering left untouched,
uncut, unclaimed.

05/15/2026

🩶 POEM: “Proof of Life, In Pencil” by Hedda Kim | June 9, 2025
🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from “Neural Resonance - Tales from the OmniSphere”

(the ache of being too complex for casual translation… interior–exterior dissonance for the ones who never got the memo)

🪶 People think I’m calm because they only hear the parts I say out loud.

But the real story?

The real story happens in parentheses, half-sentences, and unpublished monologues I never let leave the room.

“Proof of Life, In Pencil” is for the thinkers, the internalizers, the ones who carry entire universes behind their eyes and still nod politely while others fill the air.

It’s for the quiet geniuses.

The accidental mystics.

The ones who learned to whisper brilliance so they wouldn’t get accused of ego.

You want to know me?
Read me.

Because out loud, I soften the edges—sort of…
but on paper, I leave no room for misinterpretation.

On paper, I exist at full volume.


🔥

05/08/2026

POEM: Harbingers
🖋️ by
🎵 Music: “Quantum Shift” by from Neural Resonance: Tales From the Omnisphere

They came when I didn’t know how to be a girl anymore…
not the kind I was trained to be.
Not the one shaped for someone else’s desire.

The harbingers arrived with quiet hands and soft eyes,
showing me how to sip from the glass of my own becoming.

This poem was written during another transition,
but it feels just as true now
as I release the old paradigms of love and belonging.
As I lay down the idea that I must be chosen to be worthy.
As I evolve my relationships that were built on the old paradigms into newer healthier ones.

The women I spoke of in this old poem, these muses, these moments…
they reminded me:
you can be held
without being owned.
You can be seen
without being shaped.

And sometimes,
the greatest healing comes in two simple words:

“Just play.”

05/01/2026

🔥 “Am I Derivative?”
(a spoken-word piece in the key of spiral)
by Hedda Kim | July 20, 2025
🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from “Neural Resonance from Tales from the OmniSphere”

Maybe all art is derivative.
Maybe the whole point is to remember differently.

🌀 “Am I Derivative?” is a spoken-word invocation for every artist who’s ever asked the question. It’s an exorcism, a remix, and a mic-drop confession about originality, influence, and survival in an algorithmic age.

🔥

04/24/2026

“The Succubus Turns Sixty (Notes from a Demon Who Clearly Missed the Staff Meeting)”
by Hedda Kim | July 17, 2025
🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from “Neural Resonance from Tales from the OmniSphere”

Have ever been accused of being “too much” for existing with volume?

So apparently, turning sixty now comes with a side of demon accusations.

When someone online called me a succubus, I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my chopsticks. I guess that’s what happens when women age out of apology and into appetite; someone, somewhere, mistakes freedom for possession (the demonic kind).

“The Succubus Turns Sixty” is both roast and resurrection; a poem about aging, myth, and the absurdity of being female in the algorithmic apocalypse.

It’s sushi, snake ink, and self-love in the same breath.
It’s satire served raw.
From Butterfly Bones and a Brain Full of Sound.

04/17/2026

✨ POEM: “Drafts of My Disappearance”
𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴
by Hedda Kim | 2022
🎵 Music: Jair-Rôhm Parker Wells “Visions of Afropolis” from “Neural Resonance – Tales from the OmniSphere”

This one’s for the people who disappear into their work like it’s a portal.

Not because we’re avoiding life…but because the idea won’t let us go until it becomes something.

“Drafts of My Disappearance” is what it feels like to vanish into hyperfocus… and then return with a wild theory, a half-finished masterpiece, or a napkin full of revelations that absolutely no one asked for.

If you’ve ever ghosted your own phone because your creativity held you hostage, congratulations, you’re in the club.


04/10/2026

✨ POEM: Migraine (1994)
🖋️ by
🎵 Soundtrack: “Quantum Shift” by (Neural Resonance: Tales From the Omnisphere)

Ever been spiritually curb-stomped by a headache?

This one goes out to the Little Man with the Giant Spiked Hammer who lives rent-free in my skull and moonlights as an amateur demolitionist.

✨ Bonus features:
• Screaming optic nerves
• Plastic ice-bag inheritance trauma
• Gethsemane flashbacks
• And a brief cameo from nausea-as-ocean

This poem was written from inside the pain box, sometime between death wish and resurrection.

Spoiler: I lived.
But just barely.

Because resurrection takes time
(and maybe Excedrin, peppermint oil, and gentle sobbing in the dark).

04/03/2026

✨ POEM: Rhythm (1994)
🖋️ by
🎵 Music: “Quantum Shift” by from Neural Resonance: Tales From the Omnisphere

YES, I said,
and promptly threw myself into the volcano like the main character in a myth no one asked me to star in.

Spoiler: I didn’t burn.

I’ve caught arrows with my bare fingers and naked teeth like a goddess with zero chill and excellent dental coverage.

I’ve licked the sound of freedom like it was made of honey and broken glass.

I’ve danced with the Rhythm of Life…and not always on the beat…on purpose…

This poem is for those of us who’ve battled the mountain,
called it holy, and still packed snacks for the kids.

And listen, I’m an atheist.
I don’t believe in “God”;
not the sky man, not the bearded judge,
not the fear-soaked myth used to keep women silent.
But I’ve touched something more real than all of that.

I’ve seen the divine in a child’s tear.
Felt it crack me open.
It didn’t ask for worship.
It asked for presence.

This poem is that presence.

My YES to this whole messy miracle of being alive.

03/27/2026

“The First Lie I Told Myself Was a Poem”
by Hedda Kim | June 2025
🎵 Music: Jair-Rohm Parker Wells “Aeon Groove” from the collection Neural Resonance from Tales from the OmniSphere

The first poem I ever wrote was a lie.
A love spell disguised as a friendship request.
I believed that if I wrote the right words,
love would stay the same; reliable, safe, no need for re-negotiating contracts.

Turns out, love and friendship need tending.
Upgrading. Re-newal. Re-vision. Re-birth.

I’ve been rewriting that same spell my entire life.
Only now, I write it with teeth and an understanding of what I really need.

“The First Lie I Told Myself Was a Poem” is the origin story of Butterfly Bones and a Brain Full of Sound.

A eulogy for innocence,
and a declaration of creative survival.

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