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Shofi Ahmed Dec 2018
My narrow cave is zero colour
a thousand winds that blow over
only blow away kohls yet to see an eye.

The sunrise beams out in the morning's hush
as do the sun basks in the swift uplifting rush.
Ah, only to miss out again like yesterday,
there was a cave it tried to highlight.

Then lost me in the dark found a Moon
heavily tilted yet over a shady turf.
Every star eying upon it knows that
tomorrow again, this will host the sunrise!
cait-cait Aug 2018
imagine —
you are the last of your species,

an angel, who dances on

film that protects
this earth ,
your wings are broken ,
and these are the pieces of you that cannot go
home .

so on
tiptoes, this cracked marble
does not shatter,
everyone gets to watch you perform ,
unknowing of the cold truth that you are shackled
to ,

a ballerina in a box
that hums a sweet tune —

you still dance ,
even as the last of your species,
even though
you are all that you have left.

even though
you have decided that love is a form of
i didn’t know what to title this but my comedy lit class was assigned plato’s the allegory of the cave and i loved it.... this is somewhat a different style (or concept) for me but i hope you still enjoy. this was another poem where I wrote the ending lines before the beginning ha ha. Meaning Is up for interpretation
Traveler Jan 2015
They bleed into grey
The global visions of our day
Until the well trodden trail
Becomes our way

I've seen it
I've touched it
I've held it in mind
I lingered in that cave
And left stuff behind

Yet it occurs to me
That  living is the goal
To experience every pleasure
As we inevitably grow old

Perhaps we came here
Simply to experience life
The good, the bad
The happy, The sad
Back and forth throughout time
Til we return to Source
Amanda Noel Jul 13
When you're right, you're right,
there's no point in continuing the fight.
Words are lost to deaf ears anyway.
So, if I got it right;
I have a role,
supposed to fall in line,
Submit to what's told.

We aren't the same person,
We won't always agree,
And somehow having my own view
Automatically means I oppose you?
Why can't we just agree to disagree?

I think you'd be dissatisfied If I did surrender.
Like when someone gets their every desire,
And it turns into a time they beg not to remember.
It exaggerates and amplifies the troubles acquired.

Even if you were pleased,
It would take away every part of me.
Tear down all the moments
I've worked so hard to achieve,
All the miles traveled,
in the search of finding me.
It would close the entrance to the cave,
leaving me staring at the shadows on the wall.

A lot of pressure gets placed on shoulders
Expected to carry it all,
And although this dilemma is mutual,
I'm not strong enough
to be in charge of your happiness
and my own,
And, I'm sorry I'm not good at
doing what I'm told.
You are in control of you, and that is all.
lX0st Dec 2015
He found me in the woods,
One day
Said he knew I was afraid.
The warmth of his hand on mine
Chased all my fears away.
He left in my palm
An arrowhead,
A gift of strength, of courage,
Of art.
I've since placed it on a chain,
and worn it near my heart.
Medusa Sep 2018
love like we did
cavern toes to nose
bury me where

we sleep

move on again
you must keep moving
bury me with my single bead

bone I save from my lost child
if this one dies first,  then
bury us together

not in death season
not worth it, not well
if you can, I know you

you will bury me in long grass
like fingertips licking at fire
you will place me just so

so that I will move on
next plain of understanding
hope, love, anointed with right

oils, please take this sad body
bury me with my lone bead
never forget how we loved

Dr zik Apr 2015
When I go in search of You
In the rain of tears too.
During walking, talking so
I meet every friend or foe

No left any inn or cave
Each one prisoner and slave

So I am too weak to do
When I go in search of You

At last I find lovely sign
Like a bliss to soul refine

Transparent and sacred You
Reflecting in morning dew

I see you seconds a few
When I go in search of You
Nathaniel Mar 22
Eerie psalms ***** a trill down my neck
Words are absent but the definition is lucid  
My body is hypnotized to follow the call
But my mind is a statue to the manipulation

Until I hear the harp of an angel
conjoined with the choir of sirens
The like of which has never touched Earth
blanketing my ear with its ******* song

All that I have lived does not compare
And I would end it all or begin a new
just to hear this harp forever in time
The harp that has given me new life

It speaks to me for I appreciate it's mastery
I do not resist for it only wishes good
And it continues to play with only one request
I must invite myself into the cave

Poetic entry number 1 of my project "Oh! In the Cave there's Comedy"
tm Apr 15
The wee secret cave near Boralee.
One day we went there,
Just Alan and me.
Flat autumn light,
Low buzzards in flight.
An ancient den,
Newly discovered delight.
Written after one of my walks with friend and poet Alan Herman in Durness, around Loch Boralie. (c. 2007)
Growly Wolfus Aug 21
I was born into this, something I never wanted.  And all of my life, I've been running, hunted.  We're being tracked down and slaughtered, chased, by people with fire as their ally, their weapons made of silver or simply wooden stakes.  You've run us into a corner and murdered all of my kind out of fear, not a shred of their existence left behind, proclaiming it was for everyone's sake.  I am the sole survivor, the last of my race.  I have vowed not to fall victim to the same fate.

You've claimed me to be a monster, but what does that mean?  The only monster I see is you.  Murdering and spreading rumors of my kind, you don't understand what I've been through.  Saying I've slain many, but you've killed more than a few.  Stop speaking of such things; it's hurting me.  Stop lying to yourself.  Why can't you see? Are you ignoring it purposely?  Look at me, into my soul, and realize the devastation caused by your pursuit.  Why can't you understand?  Monsters have feelings too.

Though, it is too late to go back to peace.  The people can only see something unreal, a fake part of me.  And now, I will never be free.  I'm forever running from your conceit.  I have done nothing to bring you to this.  I've cut off my horns, my fangs, and my claws to try and be a part of your bliss.  I burnt my fur and scorched my skin, but all I've done has been dismissed.  I have to hide in caverns deep.  In the cold and damp, I sleep, afraid to be found in my cavern keep.

I could never fight you, that would only make things worse than before.  My skin is covered in my crimson blood and I'm in pain from the scars.  In anguish, I roar.  My gargantuan, curled ebony horns lay broken and cast aside; my thick, midnight blue fur reduced to patches and strewn across my stone lair; my calloused pads raw from running; my weary eyes tortured and worn.  I've given up on living any longer.  It's better to die and to be conquered than to be caged and grow weak from hunger; so I step out of the cave, crawling out on all four; and I lie down, exhausted, on the forest floor.
This is my first rhyming storyline.  It stemmed from a thought I had.  "Who are the real monsters in our world?"   let me know if you like it.  I don't know if I should finish it.
Mandalina Oct 2018
I am so very alone and I can't cope with it.
I'm isolated from the world in a place I know nothing about and it's making me insane.
I need someone before I call it quits.
I really thought I could handle it all.
I really did.
But, I always seem to forget how weak I actually am
and how easy it is to relapse.
Being alone is terrifying.
I am terrified of myself and my thoughts.
They always sneak up on me during the night and try to persuade me into falling back
and I’m not sure I can resist it anymore.

b Jan 2017
what have i become. .
what have you made of me, mother?
what have you sculpted, brother?

carved to perfection,
into an ivory soulless wreck,
a hopeless mess, high off morbidity and agony,

carved to perfection,
to attend to your lavish needs,
of a stripped youth,
hidden under a blood stained carpet floor,

and you do it so lovingly,
as i reach for air,
when you've buried me
six feet under.
JV Beaupre Apr 2016
My road is not a highway, well-traveled and straight.

Nor does it meander through the woods or follow a country brook.

No, it's often like a cave with short horizons;

And when there is a fork, I take it.
Decisions, decisions, decisions.
When I wrote this, I didn’t realize I was channeling Yogi Berra!
Nobody Feb 2018
They act like foolish mice lost in a maze,
with heart eyes, who only admire and send praise;
so blown away, and stuck in a dumb daze.
It’s amusing they excuse your wicked ways,
and you can gladly starve them all for days;
while smiling madly, not even fazed.
They’re dim and dull, you need entertained.
You can’t help it, you think, but don’t dare say,
to sustain your pointless little games;
that you can’t ever seem to abstain.
It’s the higher ground you need to gain.
So lure them in enduring your demented cage.
Provoke their wrath and force them to cave,
spread your foul poison to their every vein.
There’s no denying they’re enslaved,
locked tight in your chains.
H A Vitatoe Mar 18
Anything, I have written at all.
May never be seen
Will never, be shown.

My words, will go un-spoken,
from generations that are,

But my existence, will be, recorded,
through paintings, on
cave walls.
D'Angelo Jun 6
Haven’t written in a while.
Haven’t listened in while.
I’ve been missing,
you’ve been missing,
we’ve been missing for a while....
Trek, trek, trek.
Swim and sink, eat and drink
think and think...
another drink, drink, drink.

I feel every part of this. Resistance is futile. I embrace it now as it changes my many faces. I feel the old fade with the oxygen that leaves my tomb. Beauty is a thing of the stars now; a bunch of pretty lights I’ll never be able to seems. My world has shrunken but is now far more complexed...since I have grown into a smaller being. My life is beyond pleasure and pain now....

How is it that my mind expands more
and I understand less?
I no longer imagine life
but I clearly invision death.
Worst feels like my best.
Bliss feels like my stress.

“That’s only The Devil” they say,
but  I know I’m apart of the blame.
“Pray about it. Ask God for guidance”
I have yet to call His name.
I fall asleep in the dark
and awake in the same.
There’s a man in the mirror
my reflection feels estrange.

I write because it’s apart of my fight. It’s when I feel the strongest. It’s been quite some time since I’ve done this. I died. I’m still dead....I’m just alive this time.

Stephen Nov 2018
Invents Art.

To appreciate Art.

Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art.

Invents God.

Man learns
To appreciate God.

Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Invents religion.

Learns to fear God.

Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Invents sin.

Art is sin.

Man forgets,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Invents hate.

To hate other man.
Other man different,
Other man never learn fear,
Other man still Artist.
Other man never learn,
Art is sin.

All men,
All people,
Are Art,
Are God.

Invents law.

To use law
As a weapon
Against other man.

Other man
All men,
All people,
Are Art,
Are God.

Other man
Invents teaching.

Other man
Teaches man,
All men,
All people,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Other man
Man too blind,
Too afraid,
To see truth;
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Invents war.
Kills other man.

Refuses to learn,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

And Other man
Are same.
Both are Art.
Both are God.

Invents propaganda.

Teaches man
"Other man different.
Other man bad.
Other man sin.
Be afraid,
Be very afraid."

Kills other man.

Invents self-delusion.

To believe what man was taught;
Other man scary,
Other man hates man,
Hates God.

Never realizes
Other man,
All men,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Never realizes,
He is other man,
Other man is him.
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