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Ma Cherie Sep 2016
The first time
I heard them
I swear,
I was to listening
to the most beautiful choir
in four-part harmony,
swaying
or angles wings rubbing,
& perfectly, playing
a common file instrument
angled, such a unique sound
symphonic & splendorous
they are all around
this free concert
an offering of
Mother Nature
chiming at once
uncaged,
& calling on the ladies
in perfect unison  
sounding like church
telling one another
of sunlit hours
say the flowers
fending off evil spirits
allowing me to travel
into the dark again
leaping over obstacles,
alerting me to danger,
still in their silence
  I am protected
by this harbinger of luck
a most powerful portent,
of coming things
they sit silently in the quiet,
like a copper cricket weathervane,
as the poor man's thermometer
spinning tales effortlessly,
in the wind calmly
  watching over us
a shivering in the night
save you, are mine
my Native American totem
or God's Cricket Chorus
foretelling of Sorrow
of coming rains tomorrow
ex-lovers and death
a shrill creaking
stridulating in song

Oh, I fear that day,
your music should go away
please dear uncaged cricket choir
  I truly ....
   hope you'll stay.

Cherie Nolan© 2016
Wow,idk inspired maybe?
Thoughts on my Native American beliefs and other studies, an inspiration of Fall, perhaps a little worried about what they bring, even in the house this year. I found
picture of a caged cricket, see my pic. ❤
Amy Perry  May 2014
Hummingbird
Amy Perry May 2014
My mind is abuzz,
Like a hummingbird does.
It can't be still,
And it was my will
To make everything so,
Because how will I know
The outer limits of my essence
Without spiritual lessons?
Self-taught, fear not,
Happiness is sought
Through a curious burn.
The lessons I learn
From engaging my mind,
Is that I am not blind
To tuning into frequencies,
And avoiding delinquencies
With each new experience,
Learning to control delerience.
My inner being thirsts
For a gift labeled a curse.
I want to break these chains,
Be more than insane.
I want to be free
To be the real me.
Every great individual
Has ideas that are sensational.
So say what you will,
I will have these spiritual spills,
That shakes where I dwell,
And brings me out of my shell.
I have the right to engage
With my mind, uncaged.
Hummingbirds die
If they are caged inside.
Much needed writing session at the nature preserve.
Terry Collett Nov 2013
Shalom
you said
but Fay's father

ignored you
on the stairs
of the block of flats

you were only trying
to make peace with him
because of Fay

but he wasn't
buying into any Jewism
as he termed it

forgetting that
his Jesus said head
of his Catholic Church

was a Jew himself
but that was
another matter

so you let him go
on his way
up the stairs

humming some
Latin hymn to himself
later seeing Fay

on the way
to the grocer's shop
through the Square

she said her father
had forbidden her
to even talk with you

(the Jew Boy
he had said)
but she knew it was  

impossible even
if she wanted to
which she didn't

despite the risk
she ran in seeing you
or talking with you

I only said shalom to him
you said
she frowned

it means peace
you said
I could have said

something else to him
less friendly
she smiled weakly

best say nothing
she said
o.k

you said
so you walked with her
to the grocer's shop

across the road
and along to the grocer's shop
by the newspaper shop

where they had
The Three Musketeers book
in the window

which you wanted
to buy at sometime
and you showed her

the book and the cover
with a picture
of three musketeers

sword fighting
and you walked on
to the grocers

and she bought
what was on her list
and you got

what your mother
had written
on a small scrap of paper

and afterwards you said
how about a penny drink
at the Penny shop?

and she looked anxious
and said
not sure Dad  said

not to linger around
well don't linger
you said

but have a drink
and we can sit
by the wall outside

and see the world go by
and sip our drinks
she hesitated

but then said
o.k
so you took her

to the Penny shop
and bought two bottles
of penny pop

and sat outside
by the wall
your shopping bags

beside you
the morning sun
blessing your heads

and she talked
of the nuns
at her school

how strict they were
but one she said
was kind

and taught her
the Credo in Latin
word by word

and you sat
listening to her
and she sitting there

momentarily free
like an uncaged
song bird.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Aaron Combs  Apr 2015
The Garden
Aaron Combs Apr 2015
Do you remember the garden?
Do you remember the garden?

Where
we
lived.

The Charlotte roses filled the wild,
peace was uncaged, unbroken,
and the dragons and doves flew together,

And the thousand horses ran free.
And the thousand horses ran free.

I notice resting inside your eyes
and heart hasn't been so hard. Wrestling for you,
holding you,
like a child, it hasn't
been so different.

I'm taking you back there, Eve
into the Land of Eden,
just drink of my lips
a little longer and you'll remember
and see.

Do you like to dance, Eve?
Let me make your imagination full
Then let me bring it to war as  we step
into it's gates.

Let’s Dance.

For the wind of the evening
still weaves dreams between
the heavens and the earth.
There. Look.

For your heart outshines the moon, I see the hurt, the regret
The pain in the pool of you precious eyes.
And I still see you, I still love you
For you.

I hear the rhythm of your breath
and dreams, the electricity and earth
of your voice. I see the blood written
words in your heart, let me show you what
they are.

Now see the memories come
together, as you believe.

The endless garden,
the red cedars,
the cool four rivers crashing
near the rock, where we once slept.  

And look, where we hid.

See, like I promised you, we are here again,
we are here.

Where the petals sip the dew upon
the face of the earth.
where the rain and the moonlight has
not fallen.

Now look at the stars, Eve. Everyone of those stars
are named, the star of Orion, the Bear,
and Leo, everyone of them.

Everyone of them will fall
                            Everyone of them,
                            Everyone of them.

So don't be afraid in your pain
in your feelings,
just come to me.

For you can take my hand,
and be safe in my arms of
love. Even when it all falls.
Even when it all comes crashing down.

Just  
   Trust me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx­xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

200 votes?

100 comments?
My 6th Poem. May it bless you all.
Jacobo Raymundo  Oct 2012
Uncaged
Jacobo Raymundo Oct 2012
Locked away
Hidden from the light
Of day

The heart
Of the goddess of the sun
Whimpers alone

Beautifully
She carries on without
Her precious heart

But here
I stand before you
Roses in hand

Binding shackles
Fall to the cold, bland floor
Freedom

Only one
Locked iron door
Is left

Even you
The most beautiful of all
Needs help

My hand
Is extended towards you
Take it

I am without
The key to your precious heart
But I can try

Have faith
In the mortal that stands before you
He will leave your heart
*uncaged
aster  Mar 2019
UnCaged.
aster Mar 2019
You made a cage out of
your rules and your ideals.
You picked me up
and you locked me in it.
I’m caged.
I’m slaved.
And I’m lost.

BUT

You can cage my body,
not my thoughts.
You can dictate my actions,
but you can’t manipulate my mind.
You can exert harass my body,
but you can’t compel my soul.


Your cage can’t tame this free spirit.
Your cage is too small for these huge wings.
So, I will break free
and fly into the open.
And I will Fly high
as high my dreams go.
And before you know,
I would already be flying way high for you to reach.

Finally, the cage is broken.
I’m free.
I’m alive.
*And I’m Un-Caged
You can never cage my soul.
Leo Letters  Feb 2015
Uncaged
Leo Letters Feb 2015
Through cage's cracks
I peeped and saw and dreamt
As time on balloons tied swiftly on my wrists
A Cheshire smile
worshiping dreamer's street
Into the wild, I walk
stirred and filled with cheated blood
the greed to bleed and feel
Mad convulsing desires;
I am death. I am reborn. I am free.
High on tall structures
Amongst others
Floating mechanically in the air,
the broken bird is finally uncaged.
Megitta Ignacia  Sep 2020
Uncaged
Megitta Ignacia Sep 2020
Chatterbox, face-to-face
Nine o'clock, brace the pace
Sign the docs, stop the chase
I quit! You're a disgrace.

Allegation: "double agent?"
Your brain is too ancient
Keep testing my patience
I'm done! from your insulting statement.

Nothing you say, can rearrange my perception
I ain't got time, for your desperate deception
Suffered enough, running out of option
Uncaged! Claiming liberation.
130920 | 18:00 PM, I'm so grateful,  in the midst of second wave pandemic situation, God found me a new job. A few days before, I was so frustrated because someone threw a stupid allegation, pressed my button. After all these time, after everything that I did, he still spit out that allegation to my face. I'm so much better than that, thank you for treating me like ****, I've had enough. Buh bye.
Travis Green  Aug 2018
Shotgunned
Travis Green Aug 2018
An immense circle of thoughts was clouding
my brain in this room of reconfigured dimensions,
the spinning ceiling fan whirling into a windmill,
the ******* floors breaking into a wave of sharpened
metaphors, the expressionless curtains filled with fear
and crashing scenery, a dark hollow surface converging
in a rhythm of insane beats, imprisoned noted drumming,
disentangled sentences, shattering subjects, compressed
conjunctions and compounds accelerating into an eternity
of uncolored existences, as I stare at the isolated sky,
swollen stars diverging in a broken pattern of faded worlds,
the breathless moon sunken in a domain of interchangeable
languages, meaningless mazes, chopped consonants,
crumbling dreams, everything shifting in a sea of diminishing
whirlpools, while I drifted into a realm of uncaged thoughts,
a crushing cycle of unbalanced worlds, dizzy and senseless
paragraphs bleeding into timeless realities.  My eyes are
plummeting and shackled in drumbeating rhetoric, lost logos,
swallowed pathos, enveloped ethos, rainless cheeks, cloaked chests,
handcuffed arms, square root hips disassembling into deferred
depictions, distilled dreams, shadowed feet hardly more than a
poetic sound, a sore scrawled letter stretched in ragged angles,
stinging, helpless horizons.  I gazed at the shattered glass on
the kitchen floor, how its cracking vibration rumbled inside
my veins, how its impossible syllables blazed my soul,
the burning air around my inner being suffocating in Saturn,
vanishing in Venus, exploding on Earth, every ****** debris
splitting in horrid labyrinths, a screaming depth hidden in
disguise.  I glanced around at the broken wall where
my drunken dad fists where imprinted, the mangled wood
hanging in drugged vowels, the rotten symmetry disappearing
in chalky chambers, roughly lined hues declining without a trace,
as I reflected on the series of events that transpired, the way I
could hear the slamming door raging inside my vessel,
enflamed flaming verbs hovering in high rhymes,
hardened adjectives, destroyed derivatives, disintegrating
equations, the way his bladed feet dragged across the floor,
every reverberating step drowning the sunken space between us,
unwritten surroundings trapped in the atmosphere, confined in a
cloud of inconsolable galaxies, the raging fire stained ***** bottle
wedged between his grubby hands, as I could smell the reeking
breath sifting out of his mouth onto my monotonous flesh,
the same ruthless flow traveling in stuttering nouns, drowning
my heart in Neptune, while I listened to his blazing bloodshot
words, You are nothing without me!  You are worthless!  
You are just a filthy *****!  I wish you would die!  The rising
diction clenched every part of my frame, the way I could breathe
in the asphalt in his tasteless lips, a dying aroma that made me feel
like I was a featureless street seeping into underground dungeons, undone, a destroyed beauty shotgunned.
John F McCullagh May 2014
When eyesight dims and hearing fades,
when even memory wanders,
then the griefs and pains of age
might prompt one to fly yonder.
Our sister, Maya, was great of soul
and wears this cage no longer.
Her wondrous words still sing to us
if we but stop and ponder.
On hearing of the death of Maya Angelou this morning.
Jess Sidelinger Feb 2016
You wrapped your hands around my waist and pulled me in
to contour your body around the curves
of my hips and shoulders as we danced to the pop/rap song in that overly crowded
basement. The bass from those songs were mimicking the people dancing
as it bounced off the ceiling and walls around us. Music so loud
I was having trouble hearing myself think but didn't struggle at all
when it came to catching the little somethings you whispered in my ear as we moved in unison
to the seductive melodies
echoing around us.
The dancing began to fade as the stars lit up the ground we stumbled on
as we ran out the back door of that house when we saw those red and blue lights
flickering through that tiny window that was steamed up from all the


dancing around in my bedroom getting ready for another night out
like that one six months ago when our bodies moved more as one than two.
I hadn't heard from you since we parted ways at that old oak tree
in the center of town as we were trying to stay hidden from the flashing lights
down the street. Flicking off light as I walked out the front door a shadow appeared
under the dim light from the moon. It was
you standing there in the same flannel shirt you wore that night

the stars looked just like they did at that second. I didn't want
to remember that night when your hands danced across my body
as we moved in sync across the floor.
Our eyes met and a million words were shared but only one line was said.
I'm sorry I have not yet forgotten how to find you beautiful.
In that moment, I realized why tongues were caged behind teeth. Like criminals
being trapped in the back of that cop car the night we ran away,
tongues like all vicious creatures
need to be guarded.

— The End —