Long Cage in Poems
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Her wings are sublime, fluttering about,
From blue to an indigo plum,
Filling her world with a delicate shade,
Filling the void with her hum,
Then she lands on her perch, her small wooden perch,
She sits with an unblinking gaze,
And looks to the world that she could’ve loved,
To the forests and beaches and waves,
But her mirror tells the story to her every day,
Her mirror shows the maid she became,
With the cage in her head jailing this bird,
Imprisoning her will and her name,
And nobody knows she’s a beautiful bird,
Locked up for the rest of her life,
To everyone she’s the tame predictable one,
The mother, the maid, she’s the wife.
Written for Silent Ones contest "One last tear". Written and published on 4th February 2019.
Ranked 2nd
C.A.G.E
Can Anyone Get Enough
Get enough of what you might ask? Just stand clear and feel the blast that blisters and devours us all. Standing tall in a wasteland of emptiness to the knee.
See nothing over the horizon. Arising to the next day , still feeling as if anything has changed. Fortune and fame, came the same way, as many fall victim to the aim of decay. Twisted rattling off in this cage , in this maze to nowhere. Reaching out for just some type of notoriety. Lie to me, extend your hand out to me. Free to do nothing. C.A.G.E. Are you amazed at the conditions, but feel helpless? Invisible yet indivisible by nature. Torn and subjected from the future. Disconnected from the normalcy of knowing time waits for no man or woman. Stand together, locked away in these bars. Nothing left but scars, for these stars and stripes. Bright was that future, now there seems to be a shaded cumulus of clouds. Loud are the sirens, falling on deaf ears. Fears and tears for years, opening more of a sore. Please, where are the keys to unlock the door, to this C.A.G.E? Not alone within this endeavor, cloaked by the secrecy of neglect. Reflect and let your eyes adjust to the reality, when we do naught. Noticing the reflection in the mirror has uncovered itself to be you. Now C.A.G.E (Can Anyone Get Enough) and do nothing?
Darius Howard
She is uppercase, Her within the within
out shines the sun, out paces the moon.
Thoughts of a ham sandwich come to a squealing halt
as I recall my low sodium diet -
She (too often to count) plays trivia with existence,
meanwhile, I flutter like a cage in a canary.
Of course, She is not a she and I am not a lower he.
A non-physical womb both transmits and incubates.
Pronouns do not work in Spirit.
Owls perch on the edge of light where the watched
also watches. She corrals wild minds, thoughts bleat
as they are left to stray
creating space for the lone herder -
the one who brings ‘shepherd’s pie’
for all the hungry ghosts.
In a sandbox, many grains plays with others
and that’s okay
for one more transcendental day.
When the pandemic lockdown is over
I will be springing from my cage in leaps and bounds.
I will run down the street hugging all the neighbors I have never met
I will be driving to my grandchildren’s homes to smother them with kisses.
I will hunt each and every grandchild down no matter how far I have to drive.
Drive! Wait! I can still drive! Hooray for that; I hope so anyway.
When the shelter-in-place is over I will go to the stores I used to pass.
I will go in and out of every one, to see everything I have ever missed.
I will drag home some things I will never use, just like before.
I will try one some clothes at fancy clothing stores.
I will buy art supplies, and I will paint my happiness all over my house.
For when the Pandemic lockdown is over, I will fly from my cage and be free!
The greatest Show on earth can be found
when the circus comes to town.
All the adults and children gather around
it's under the big top where they can be found.
A three ringed circus has all the attractions
so, step up an experience the action.
The ring master prevails with his whip
top hat and red tails.
He presents all the attractions
giving all such great satisfaction.
Tight rope walking, man shot from canon,
trapeze artists fly through the air
as though without a care.
Man eating tigers can be seen,
in a cage, in the center ring.
The man eating tigers
do what the trainers desire
even jumping through rings of fire.
Then there is a dancing bear
doing summersaults in the air.
Ten seals on pedestals in a circle
tossing around a ball that is purple.
Animal balloons can be made
by humorous clowns that don't have to be paid.
The finale is a parade
elephant's trucks clasping tails lead the way.
The circus is ready to perform another day.
January hushers in the shivering coldness
as feathery snowflakes descend on roads
over the steep ridge which abruptly plunges
into a foamy sea and their whiteness glistens
into the blue lake without the presence of ducks;
stillness is found in space and also amid boulders!
The poor hummingbird searches everywhere for his mate,
who has gone for days looking for soft cotton
for the pricky nest made of boughs he found last spring;
ah, the hunter shot him in the left wing thinking
he was an intruder...he fell nearby the tranquil lake,
and it's hard for him to reach home anytime soon!
Ah, he often comforted a solitary beagle with a fur of brown
confined to a cage in a room of gloominess and dire feeling!
They both miss each other's company in lonely moments
and can't escape the bitter cold that has brought in
winter before its due time, how delightful was Autumn
when they watched together the undulating auburn leaves!
Soon trees will be bare and turn unto ugly and eerie skeletons,
showing their misery and go into lethargy;
can the unhappy hummingbird wait any longer,
many don't return from their dangerous journey
and could the same inevitable, fatal fate
be anticipated for his adored and lost mate?
How will she spend her nights and not express anger?
Do birds mourn the loss of whom reminds them of glittering skies?
Before your clocks, before your name/
Before dust whispered into bone/
There was light-I was flame/
Crowned in brilliance, alone/
Not fallen. Not damned. Just other/
Too bright for Heaven's fragile sky/
They called it pride, not knowing the shudder/
Of a God who dared to cry/
They shaped me from the holiness' edge/
But chained my glow in fear/
I rose beyond their sacred hedge/
So they cast me down from near/
Hate came dressed in holy robes/
Whispers dripped like sacred oil/
What crime? To shine? To break their molds/
I stood while Angels recoiled/
Their halos turned to nooses/
Their psalms to sharpened spears/
They needed a monster-excuses/
So they dressed me in their fears/
"Mike," they hissed like a curse/
Not a name, but a cage in disguise/
Yet I stood-a truth unversed/
And never blinked beneath their lies/
Down I fell-so they thought/
But flames do not forget/
In the pit, I forged my thought/
In exile, purpose is set/
They saw ruin, I saw reign/
I carved a throne in hellfire/
I bled not weakness-but disdain/
I rose from ash, entire/
Each lash etched scriptures in my soul/
Each curse a hymn, each scar a psalm/
Their rage could never take control/
I am not wrath, I am calm/
Now I stand-not crawled, not bowed/
I do not beg. I claim/
My feet have scorched the highest clouds/
My eyes set Gods to shame/
Earth will not be gifted-it will kneel/
In silence or in scream/
The meek may hope, the brave may feel/
But I will fulfill the dream/
I do not steal-I redefine/
I do not burn-I awaken/
I am no lie-you see the sign/
The world is mine for the taking/
You hate me because you see me/
Because I show you what you hide/
My truth strips you completely/
Your masks cannot survive my pride/
You cling to myths that rot/
But I have lived where none are trusted/
And thrived in all they are not/
I am not a fable you teach to fear/
Nor a fallen King in rue/
I am the mirror that makes things clear/
And you have no clue/
They locked her in a box of gold,
with chains that shimmered, stories told.
"Stay pretty, still–don't ask for more,
The fire in you? Just folklore".
she smiled like myths were make–believe,
But hid a flame beneath her sleeve.
each breath she took was kindling slow,
A furnace marked in ash and glow.
The saw her feathers, red and bright,
But clipped her wings do dim her light.
"You burn too loud", they used to say,
"And blaze is not the woman way".
Yet silence cracks, and embers bite –
she burst the cage in blaze and flight.
Not tamed, not torn, not anyone’s—
she rose to kiss forbidden suns.
Now when they speak her name in fear,
It echoes loud and crystal clear:
You cannot cage what’s born to rise
A phoenix lives in ashes's guise
~hira~
There are so many thoughts within one mind;
some are lost, while others are forgotten.
These thoughts begin bleeding out as I write.
I shed tears while missing the sun, all while gazing at the stars burning bright.
Unlocked cage in addiction, but my flesh isn't accepting the loss of the fight.
Take me back to ground zero, beginning with the circle of life.
I reminisce about the garden where my heart still resides.
Replaying every song forever in my mind.
Wishing for God's well of living water, to quench my thirsty soul.
As reconstruction continues, the conversation persists.
Vivid memories dating back to when I was a kid.
Water flows downstream, the river running as much as I am.
Sent a key and a mirror, illuminating what my eyes cannot hide.
The young couple surveys the area.
Large aged oak trees gift shade.
Thick luscious grass carpets the ground.
Pastel wild flowers dance on the breeze.
The pale blue sky is expansive.
She takes the time to spread each crease
Out of the checkered blanket.
Her hands are well manicured and soft.
He glances at her as she hums to herself,
Unpacking the basket between them,
Pure adoration in his eyes.
They laugh and talk the afternoon away.
The bread just crusts.
The crumbles of cheese minuscule.
A few wrinkled, too soft grapes.
The blue sky gives way to
Pinks, golds and a warm violet.
Wine and cooler air
Have provided an excuse
For romance in a beautiful meadow.
She looks up at him, pensive, in his arms.
He knows her inside and outside, this love.
He shakes his head sadly.
"But it looks so hungry and sad".
He reminds her of the rules as he packs.
She stands, not helping him,
But studying the creature.
"It has to sit in a cage in paradise,"
She sighs, almost to herself.
"My Love," he grasps her arm,
Starting to sweat despite the cooler air.
"We don't bother it, and it doesn't bother us."
He pulls on her arm,
The basket rushly packed.
His eyes trying to focus
On the other side of the clearing.
"I'm just going to give it a crust, b..."
As she put her soft clean hand
Through the bars of my cage,
The crust of bread deposited in my hand,
Her body launches backwards
Blood and bone spraying 360 degrees.
I still hold her hand in mine.
I am already crying
When equal machinery
Launch bullets of
Lethal capacity splitting the man
Into several pieces.
I am left to eat my bread crumbs.
Alone in my cage.
No one to watch parade in front of me.
No one to watch be happy.
I swing the cage door open.
Step out. Stretch.
Look around and scream.
When my throat hurts
I climb back in my cage and shut the door.
I built this.
I'm my own maker and demise.
I will choose my own ending.
Leave me now.
I wish to starve slowly over
Everyone else's bread crumbs.