Long Cage Poems
Long Cage Poems. Below are the most popular long Cage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cage poems by poem length and keyword.
Staring into space,
Full of love and grace,
I embrace,
The sun's face.
Soaking up the rays,
Birds sing their praise.
I feel my conscious raise,
As nature's music plays.
Absorbing the cosmic waves,
Crashing through my brain,
Washing away the pain.
Bringing with it peace,
Allowing the release,
From our limiting beliefs.
A conditioned existence,
Ingrained by our chiefs.
They're more like Thiefs...
Why do we, constantly,
Let others label our identity?
Are we escaping responsibility,
Or is it how we're trained to be?
As we fall deeper into,
Conditioned captivity.
Anxiety, growing rage,
As we realize, this is a cage.
As wars wage, they set the stage,
For their Fear to manage,
It's conditioned image.
Set Us Free!!!!!
Then it comes to me,
When you Love unconditionally,
Each molecule of reality
It sets you Free.
The power of connectivity,
Charging the Energy,
Each cell making it's mark
Creating a unique spark,
Starting a blaze,
Lifting the haze,
The end of a conditioned daze.
From the Ashes,
We rise to be,
Our true entity,
The ONE,
They're afraid to see.
Step out from the shadows of the past,
The heavy quiet is shattered at last.
The breath you held for miles and years
Now dries the dirt and burns the tears.
No longer hidden, no longer bound,
Your footsteps shake the hollow ground.
A royal lineage, a fierce decree—
You were never made for captivity.
Lift up your heads, let the chorus ring,
For the power you hold is a breathless thing.
The cage is open, the night is done,
Step into the light of a blazing sun.
Arise, oh daughters, take your place,
With fire in your eyes and power in your grace.
Rise up, oh daughters of the King
Let your voices sing.
So speak with the thunder, sing with the wind,
The era of hiding has come to an end.
No weapon can hold what the Maker has blessed,
No shadow can conquer the light in your chest.
The universe waits for the sound of your roar,
As you step through the threshold and shatter the door.
Reclaim your dominion, inherit the skies—
Daughters of royalty,
Open your eyes.
For too long they asked for your silence and smile,
To walk in the background, to wait for a while.
But the silence has broken, the rivers run free,
And you are the wave that will conquer the sea.
So march to the rhythm of a heavenly drum,
Look at the horizon and see what has come.
The kingdom is yours, it has been all along,
Woven directly into the truth of your song.
Unstoppable, fierce, and divinely designed,
Leaving the dust of the valley behind.
The lineage lives, the promise is true—
Daughters of the King,
The world waits for you.
Kyiv, cultural hub of Eastern Europe
ancestral home of ancient Slavs
bombardment implacable
by the Russian tyrant's corps
a despot dismissing Ukraine's nationhood
a democratic thrust
shackling Ukraine for its wheat wealth
and mineral gain
marching black boots, green tanks that roll
demands for political control
when free will's deemed a provocation
love of country
love of freedom
Ukrainians fight onslaught, relentless
inestimable courage
'gainst the Russian foe, its war crimes with a
molten flow
while the West slips to a sanctions blow
pilgrimage of military ware
media clips of Ukrainian children, women, the frail
mass flee through rubble, shell shocked
a trek that strips the soles of feet
from Russian air strikes
an indiscriminate killing
humanitarian crisis overflow
"War of annihilation!" Ukraine's president cries
blood soaked strife
by the Russian bear in cagey deception
quest of domination
arched back of aggression
a world order dissolving
in the violent pitch of chaos
people shredded like cheap currency
their mythic status to fight on
to salvage freedom's shank of gold
too many "why's" to answer for
nimble evasions
should the west look away from
rattling war's expansive cage
Poem composed: March 18, 2022
Over here in an Emotional plebiscite;
Knowing it's do or die
Sparked by emotional suicide
These feelings linger like a pesticide,
While I'm trying to go overdrive.
Finally asking myself why!?
Why?
Why does this feel like emphatic repetition,
Being manipulated by my perceptive premonitions,...
Is this fate..
Or is it just intuition
Oh curse these feelings of judgemental superstition!
How I wish for cognitive bliss;
To escape from my eternal cage of undue stress.
And elope with my loving mistress or rather a damsel in distress.
What is my definition of happiness?
What am I to be? Elated or saddened by trivial destinies pursued.
It is said that those that live in the past remain unamused;
But I refuse to listen!
Am I wrong for reliving moments from my past to feel contented;
or am I just another demented Soul.
Haunted by my unconscious consciousness;
Justifying my 'skeletons in the closet ' as assimilated heirlooms..
"Oh God! someone pass me a broom!"
As I sweep my past from my conscious and fumigate my overflowing closet,
may these feelings of promiscuous intentions and cognitive dissonance be purged from my unwilling conscious!
Copyright © Emmanuel Nyeko! Year Posted 2019
Orders descend like sharpened hail
each shard cutting language to ribbons.
We learn to swallow pain quietly,
to bow our eyes before the flag of silence.
Walls do not need ears...
fear builds its own cathedral,
where every heartbeat kneels
to the god of obedience.
Children are taught to trace straight lines,
never to bend them back into loops.
Curves are forbidden
too dangerous a hint
that what dies might begin again.
Even breathing is tallied,
counted like coins in the dark.
Still, a single breath slips past.
Unmeasured, unowned
a secret chord that rattles
the cage of silence.
From that small ignition,
the world remembers how to grow.
Today, the sun shone brightly over our shores.
Peering over the forest and meeting the cores
We share fundamental truths across the waterways.
across the grasslands, then onto the Himalayas.
Past somatic feelings are cognitively preserved.
Spirit is the natural extension of cognition.
Spirit and mind foresee the body, the spirit swerved.
Together, the mind and body create resolution.
The universe's sound is centered around silence.
A quiet that gives rise to that sound—its essence
Silence increases, dilates, expands, and evolves.
It's able to watch the blooming of other carves.
It is as copernican as the light we pass through.
Pedagogical schools have the same faint glow.
Solving math, questioning the past, or visual atom.
"I have a dream," I was told, to be in a ruling stratum.
Our lives connect us to grains and corncobs.
warmed by miners and dry wind turbine jobs.
Sugarcane is used to acquire paper and rubber.
My father's hands were swollen from scrubber.
Our biggest mistake was playing the drama alone.
as if life were a subtle crime without atone.
Denying respect is feeling neglected in a cage.
Shouts were buried by choruses, width, and rage.
Let the beat off your loneliness and start talking.
Your warmth tends to compile the kettle singing.
The world's fauna and birds are plainly unique.
Your life is ready and waiting for its peak.
Written: December 29, 2022
Gravity is a cage, welded by God.
To confine greed and selfish curiosities.
To restrain this plague called us.
This lonely orb should be allowed to colonize.
Ingest life from deep space eyes.
Follow a rainbow to its end.
Bend time around our wishes.
Sleep in the seams of space.
Offer a rosary to an alien race...
and pray their hearts are different from ours.
The skull suffocates the brain.
Keeps us from knowing our truest destiny.
The brain should be allowed to drift about
like a great red storm cloud.
Sniffing God out.
Travel at the speed of mind.
Ingest today and times gone by.
Feed all there is to feed.
See all there is to see.
One day, when I was gardening,
and putting seeds into the ground
I pushed aside a pile of sticks,
and I heard this tweeting sound
The tweet came from an injured woodpecker
That had a broken left wing
So, I took him in and to the best I could,
I made makeshift sling
I kept him in the basement,
so that I wouldn't hear his noise
And I put him in a giant cage,
with water, food and toys
I nursed him for a while,
and he was looking really great
Until one night when I came home,
from working kind of late
Each night when I'd come home,
I'd fill his bowls and check
To see if he could fly again,
or maybe try to peck
But sadly, when I walked down my steps,
there were feathers on the floor
My cat somehow got to the cage
and opened up the door
I didn't tell my daughter,
that sadly Woody died
I told her that I let him go,
a rare time that I lied
So, after cleaning up the mess,
I gave a feather to my child
And I told her Woody flew away
and he is living in the wild
I told a little white lie,
but I think it was for best
Because, my daughter, she was happy,
when I laid her head to rest
I cringe at the thought of writing
the worst verse in the universe.
I would have to light a match
and set fire to every ridiculous word
if someone thought it so terrible
and their criticism I had overheard.
But if all of the words were my own
I would smile and take it in stride
knowing that I had not plagiarized
the written poetry or lyrics of another.
I would never do that to a song writer
or steal the poems of a poetry brother.
I could never intentionally misspell
any word when a dictionary is handy.
Sometimes I decide to punctuate verses,
and sometimes I leave the cage door open
It depends on the mood I happen to be in...
happy with what I written, or if I'm mopin'
You ask, "To rhyme or not to rhyme..."
that's never the right question for me.
I never worry about how, why or when...
I just follow the path my hunger leads
cuz when it's feeding time, my mind is open
to plant rose clippings or wildflowers seeds.
In lighthearted Limericks I sometimes write
bawdy lines that might raise an eyebrow
but not even then would I sabotage the form
I think my hand would tremble and shake
if I made mistakes on purpose.... hmmm no
and if I had a Muse, her heart would break.
*Obviously NOT written for a contest
In our final breath, the truth unfolds.
As we die, a secret is told.
No longer bound by our earthly lives.
We see through veils, with opened eyes.
It was only us, in every role we played.
The lover, the fighter, the one who prayed.
Through joys and sorrows, triumphs, and fears.
It was only us, through all the years.
As we depart this mortal stage.
We shed the masks and release the cage.
For in the end we come to find.
It was only us in every mind.
Fractured souls, on a distant shore.
And in death, we become restored.
For we are the actors, the stage, the scene.
In this eternal drama, we are the dream.
Never forget, you are more than your name.
Even if this is all just a game.
And when the curtian falls at last.
We will find ourselves whole and vast.