Long Cautious Poems
Long Cautious Poems. Below are the most popular long Cautious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cautious poems by poem length and keyword.
8/22/21
"Nauseous"
Getting closer to Autumn
In deep thought near a marble column
Always doing things that lead me quickly into a coffin
Overlooked, abused and forgotten
Felt like I had zero in common
So I kept staying solemn
Because people are quick to turn it into a problem
By being rotten
Others are fast to play opossum
Yet they still plotted
Making others suffer, so the profit
Goes into their own pocket
You can eat dog s***
Mouth always running like a faucet
Below still and moving objects
It's always been a contest
Regardless of the concept
Usually am, but was not all that cautious
Waking up feeling nauseous
Once in a blue moon, I'll really overdue it and vomit
These damn dabs of the chronic
I'm always on it
This ing liquor I can't stay off it
Yes I know, that makes me an alcoholic
It's honest logic
Only so much time is allotted
Stomach often knotted
Working occasionally outside, but usually in an office
It was a stroke of genius or thoughtless
It's been awesome or chaotic
Got shot with something caustic
And toxic
Had some wins but even more losses
They tell me I need to pray to god and wear crosses
Solitude and silence among near endless gossip
I promise
I'm no novice
It's going cosmic
Blood occasionally clotted
Molecules bonded
Lines still unconnected and dotted
Feeling alone and frosted
I'd treat her like a goddess
I want it, but she makes me feel unwanted
Taunted
Mind haunted
Yet still wearing an infinity gauntlet
Continuing to sip out this goblet
As folks display jaundice
Turning psychotic
Being obnoxious
Quick to cause conflict
Over written words or something said by a prophet
She looked like Pocahontas
And he looked like a Walrus
Friends with lifeforms that are aquatic
As well as striped and spotted
Like flies people that talk s***
Get swatted
Harder than Stone Cold Steve Austin
Signature move combined with a double rock bottom
What's been done was wise or preposterous
Impact small or colossus
I'm going on no matter if I feel exhausted
And downtrodden
For myself and others horizons shall broaden
It's the bliss of the first kiss
now someone you miss
oh they came and their gone
wandering on
you try to stay strong
where have the people gone
And I don't want to sound upset
but my life reset
all I had is now gone
everything changed
I'm all on my own
where have the people gone
Going slowly on my only
in a world no one knows me
growing wrinkles crows feet
slowly tingle so weak
gums retreat lose sleep
please repeat sound seeps
light bleak legs ache
heart weeps sore feet
all day cure's sleep
all hurts thoughts leave
voice creeks can't breathe
slow beat no beat
heartbeat rests
where have the people gone?
Time flies up and over
starts goes
light solar
up down
dims glows
moods polar
light up in the shadows
drunk sober throwing up lows
I left the crowd living cautious
course they say I caused this
from inside their fortress
they'll never admit wrong
so I'll be gone
where have real people gone
Those faces weren't for me
attack insecurities
and wore me to my knees
they ego feed
uncared for as I bleed
Portray an act falsely
themselves before your needs
the ones that say that you're weak....
let them carry on
walk on and be strong
I'm all the people I need
Time flies up and over
starts goes
light solar
up down
dims glows
moods polar
light up in the shadows
drunk sober throwing up lows
Black Friday
So here we are again
My reflection and I
The worst of friends
As we’ve always been
Surely nothing could be better
I am a happily married man
With a beautiful wife
And a lovely child
But something has grown
Out of the unknown
A latent energy
A mysterious
Creeping and suffocating
Loneliness
The reason for this
I can’t attempt to analyse
When I try, I cry out
With surprise
But I am surely mad
You may say
It can only come to bad
You may say
And yet it is there
A lurking, choking, mysterious
Loneliness
So here we are again
An evening full of pain
When all my work is done
When my wife and child have gone
And where are you?
Waiting on a wet Friday night
For your lovely child
To finish her dance classes
Surely something could be better
For an unhappily married woman
Returning to her home
Waiting for her drunken lover……..
Don’t get me wrong
No indecent proposals
Only a wish to share a common feeling-
Loneliness
Monika – this is just one moment
And we have to think of our lives
Our responsibilities.
But can I dare ask you -
Despite my religious restraints-
Despite the fact that my carnal desire
For you may seem like playing with fire-
Can I dare ask you-
Knowing that we are cautious adults-
Can we one black Friday night-
Share our loneliness together?
Maybe I’ve misread the signals-
Maybe I don’t know what I’m saying-
Don’t get worried about my suggestions
In an age of obsessive sexual insinuations-
I repeat one last time tonight
Can we share our loneliness together?
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,” is a compass point for the soul, a star by which we chart a life not yet written.
The future is an unplowed field, a fallow, silent earth awaiting the brave hand that will break its surface. The dream is the seed—tiny, resilient, holding the blueprint of a forest within its shell. Most seeds remain dormant in the pocket of the comfortable or the hand of the cautious. They are beautiful in theory, but barren in potential. Yet, the believer is the Sower, the one who looks at the dark, indifferent soil and sees not resistance, but a cradle.
Belief is the water and the sunlight, the patient tending that transforms possibility into probability. A dream without belief is a ghost ship, drifting on a becalmed sea, its sails furled, its potential unrealized. The wind is the force of conviction; it fills those sails and propels the vessel toward a horizon others cannot yet perceive.
To believe is to be an architect of air, drawing blueprints of structures that defy gravity, constructing skylines with the raw material of hope. The future is the city we build from these sketches. It is not handed to us as a finished, polished marble structure. It is a quarry we must mine with persistence and vision. Those who lack belief see only the hard rock and the dust; they reside in the present’s well-worn, safe valleys. But the believers ascend the peaks, seeing the city of tomorrow sprawling below them, calling them to its gates.
The beauty of the dream is its inherent promise of a better dawn. It is a lighthouse cutting through the fog of cynicism and despair. The future, in this light, is not a predetermined destination but an active creation. It does not wait for the hesitant or the merely hopeful; it is claimed by the convinced, by those who polish their dreams into a mirror that reflects the world they wish to inherit. They are the cartographers of an undiscovered country, and their belief is the ink with which they draw the map of the coming age.
I met her at a wedding,
Surely just by chance!
Her sweet innocent looks,
Put me in a state of trance!
Love at first sight...was it?
I really wondered...!
My stupid little heart,
For an answer it pondered!
Draped in a saree,
She looked stunning and gorgeous!
Her charm could make me fall,
I had to be extra cautious!
My mom said...lets go,
Though i wanted to stay!
I had no choice then,
But to turn away!
Destiny...I'm sure,
Will bring us at crossroads again!
I'll make sure u'l be mine,
And never let you go again!
My 'masterpiece' I've found,
'You Know Who' is her name!
Life as I know now,
Will never ever be the same!
Deep pain bores into scalp as eyelids struggle to open;
Glaring sun menaces eyes as they face the sky boldly.
First thought dawns on me like elixir; I'm alive!
The vast blue sky seems to smile upon my spirit holy.
Hands try to grasp hot sand as I wade to turn on stomach.
Pitiless grains escape between my fingers, mockingly.
In tremendous effort, I crawl to nearest patch of shade.
My heart pumps heavily while sweat oozes out profusely.
Images flash; I'm pushed off yacht by lover unfaithful.
Mock inability to swim; I acted it wisely.
His satisfied grin is all I could see before diving.
Skills of past champion revived, I swam courageously.
This virgin island, is haven to me now;
Life's strong in me! Branches I shove away, decisively.
Cautious exploration; Travelers trees welcome me.
With stick sharp I poke at it, water flows abundantly!
I do drink to my content and refresh myself while hares
jump around; I whisper to them and one stops daringly.
"Angel" I mumble as I follow it; on water melon I stumble.
Food! Hit with stone; humid sweet red flesh to wolf greedily.
Twigs, I gather and "SOS" I draw on the white expanse.
Angel from hole, under branched tree, beckons me temptingly.
A red bird hovers; branches dry and green, some Ravenala leaves,
enough to give me most desired tree lodge, marvelously.
"Now, some thorough exploration." Angel nods approval.
Disgust filled heart softens and I long to hug her fondly.
On other side of island, I land in a rocky area.
Good heaven! Rainwater is trapped in a pond; so lovely.
The sun sets the direction and I venture inland.
Swarm of mosquitoes invade my burnt skin, voraciously.
I run like a mad to land among wild peppermint.
No mosquito here…repellent herbs! I deduce quickly.
Handfuls I pluck, to rub on my body at night.
My watermelon shell, now dry, serves me efficiently.
Pipik, my red bird and Angel watch "friends, how to light this tinder nest?"
Eureka! here, my heart shaped glass pendant gleams suddenly.
Settled nearly for a week now, hope never leaves me.. I'm to live!
2/02/17
2nd and 4th line of each quatrain has 14 syllable.
(checked on howmanysyllable.com)
Placed 4th on 6 winners (judged 7/02/17) Tropical Island by Shadow Hamilton
The jaded moss morning slips in
as kiwi colored dew settles down upon pear sage grass.
Dampened fern pine evergreen leaves
are held stationary by some unseen glue.
Soft blows the wind, gray boned white clouds
the remaining leaves that rustle in the trees.
Sun light veneer flows flaxen butter,
a brilliant vanilla white hardening the cold.
All hallows eve ashen slate
hangs in the mid morning smokey chills.
Arctic shivers catch the trees
disrobing and undressing in the seasonal changes.
In hushed and muffled quiet
barely wakened creatures step lightly
With cautious acceptance comes
to follow the breezes, surfing along the fallen grass.
The heaviness of the dew is upon the blades
bending down pressing tight against the earth,
Heavy is the air that breathes
layering the cold atop the warm.
Colors embolden deep and become embedded
with hued flows along the palette's edges.
Emerald greens cling to the branch as yellow limes pale
with crimson scarlet berried apples ready to fall.
The sugar maple, most colorful display of all
ochre yellowed gold hewn peach tangerine orange
Each knowing the end has come
and it's time for surrender to that final fall.
Ooh La La La
I’m a candidate for your love;
Do you think I remind you of?
The boy you used to date, well;
The one you used to hate yea;
I’m being to cautious towards;
The love sick girl my reward;
To you I bring gifts of love and joy; (the joys)
Ooh, honey want you so, to be my only, only girl
Ooh la la la
La la la
Ooh la la la
La la la la
Ooh la la la la la, la la la
Take living alone with love truly grown;
Not leaving anew you girl I felt you were blue; (so true)
This trying sensation makes me feel sworn; (almost reborn-sworn)
The love of you oh, baby yea I do love ya baby wow
Together we fell into love in love stepping on to love girl love;
Oh baby now girl give this poor unlucky boy a whirl, a twirl;
Ooh la la la
La la la
Ooh la la la
La la la la
Ooh la la la la la, la la la
I’ll be singing a tune;
Oh, darling while I’m feeling for you;
Ooh la la la I keep thinking of you
Ooh la la la want you back my darling
Ooh la la la do you think I remind you of
Ooh la la la
La la la
Ooh la la la
La la la la
Ooh la la la la la, la la la
10/25/71
Written words by James Edward Lee ©1971, 2019
I seem to have started a series of cat poems. My dog series was so fulfilling. The cats are both real and imagined, from my own owning, or friend’s. Hope you enjoy!
Carroll Cat *********
(Dedicated to Joe &
Nancy Young
————————————-
Feeling within
A whistling flute
From nearby
hilltops,
She responds to
her need for
Sought safe seclusion:
Harboring under
the mattress slats,
Similar
To her lost, old Papa’s
Bracing arms
that she
Long well knew:
Her shield against
The unknown —
Then, that
Blasting thunderclap
Of change, after her
Elder keeper Papa
Died, leaving her
(at 12, old, too) drawn
Away from all she
knew, but as if by
the sounding of
A song, pet fostering
Brought Carroll Cat
To this realm of all
New…
Unfamiliar hours,
Without the true, and
Cautious footfalls
Carrying bowls
of white cream;
Without the known,
comfortable scents
along floors or
fabrics…an alien,
Vast new space to
Learn her Noel!
Chancing wee-hour
Wanderings beyond
New doorways,
Beyond the bed,
Beyond the fear, for
Some others, like Papa,
who may have
The soothing touch…
For moments.
Carroll Cat dares
Going forth.
———————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger. 9/2021
Thanks be to God
She would be queen, oh if indeed she could
after all, she's been where others stood.
So in control of e-mail trolls
she believes herself far better in the know.
The queenly rule is not just a presentable display
as her silent king makes hanky panky in the hay.
She's stern and forceful, once secretary of state
keeping her close inner secrets on her plate.
A pantsuit-wearing globe-trotter
with a desired rule set on her blotter.
But be sure she can be over cautious
quite averse to taking risk for fear of losses.
Negotiate she did and will
but haven't we already taken the same bitter pill?
Too many historic clans
hold the path to freedom's stand
Just two hundred years have come
the dynasty and monarchy never seems undone
They return and take control again
and to the power throne ascend.