Long Cave in Poems

Long Cave in Poems. Below are the most popular long Cave in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cave in poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The 12-And-A-Half Advantage

1874….
The spectacularly lacey ferns rose up and fluffed themselves as self-appointed front-drops to the hidden cave.  
	Thus insuring this scene would remain a secret, secluded, unvisited spot for the next four or five hundred years, having no idea both parents had found this spot when they were his age.

2286…
	A young girl with long curly hair, brown eyes, splashes of freckles, and curiosity a yard long re-discovered his Magic Cave, only she named it “Twinkle Pretty Cave.”  

Neither realized that this cave in the back forty acres of their relatives’ property was always discovered by twelve and a half year olds.  And especially never realizing that she would soon forget “Twinkle Pretty Cave” existed  

	The cave only showed itself to twelve and a half year olds, but when they turned 15 or drank their first drop of alcohol, whichever came first, they would promptly forget it, as it was a childhood place.  
	The cave laughed, thinking of all the twelve and a half year olds that were to keep coming, because they never stopped. They had been coming ever since she could remember.  And they would just keep coming.


Mad Enough Too Scream Sad Enough Too Tear

Sat here again screwing over what I’ve lost 
Mad enough too scream sad enough too tear
Inside I’m annoyed heartbroken and cross
as of the point of no return I’m well clear

I was in a place isolated in pain 
Comfy in a social group to then stray
those faces consistent in my life never changed
but the friendships they represented went strange

When I was needing and weak 
labelled pathetic attention seek
after their broken legs and heads lost from reality 
for years I’d been looking outwardly 
but I didn’t see it come back too me

It was all about them and I’d been naive aiding
self centred, I learnt when I needed saving
hypocrites judging any wrong in how I was behaving
telling their opinions spread too see me then cave in

Refusing to acknowledge my situation
they were selfish 
but telling everyone put eyes on me
and suddenly they’re selfless

It was all about reputation not friendship
those whom I befriended left me friendless 

So I’m sat here again chewing over what I lost
mad enough too scream sad enough too tear
Inside I’m confused heartbroken and lost
mad enough too scream sad enough too tear
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings

12/22/14



Props to the original Baggins
And his bravery towards the dragons
While he could've stayed behind with the wagons


Just a hobbit and quite the comic
But he should've watched it
And use all logic
Before trying to put on the ring inside of his pocket
Because another was unfortunate and lost it

This made him scathing mad
As he continued aging and
Inside a cave in the hills, far away from any raging sands

Originally had a name
But overtime he had changed
And was no longer the same

They didn't know what else to call him
Except for Gollum
Because he had fallen
And became solemn


Meanwhile the orcs
Marched with force
After coming into contact with the source
Of all evil from the North



The bell continued to toll
As the trolls
Looked to take all souls
With a heart darker than coal

During the events
The mist was dense
And full of suspense
But the ents that were immense
Put in their sense
And helped their allies get across the fence



Here we go again
Around the bend
It didn't end
In the eyes of children, ladies and men
Who could be considered a trusted friend?





By:   Dalton Ogletree
Form: Rhyme

My Light In Your Darkness

Be brave.

My light in your darkness,
shivers before these winds.
Warm your hands and slow the death,
until these nights all flee.

Be brave and part your lips.
Drown my soul and wipe those tears.
Rise for me and not feel grief,
take these steps as life is brief.

Thieves will try and take your peace,
but I still stay and can not cease.
Lift that chin, do not cave in,
letting go is your life of sin.

Though I know these nights are grim,
as I’ve been noticing your grin,
turn into a dim light that flickers.
Smile one time so bright,
to love a heart that simmers,
from the fires that you lit.

I miss the bits,
we had, between us two.
Though what’s sad is you,
saw the first two breaths of forever,
which you threw.

You were calm, when I was through.

I do not know if you’re the victim,
or if you’re the cruel.
Either way I’ve been a fool,
I will not sink for whom let me pursue, my doom.

I will not live for cowards, who dare not speak their truth,
rather hide, stay silent then try to bend my views.
I suppose the only news that matter,
is if you’re brave enough to win a heart that’s shattered.

Broken glass cuts,
but the view outside this darkness is worth the hurt.

Be brave,
be brave and do not fall slave to these ill vines.
Even life falls to ash, before the fleeting time.
Do not try to find peace, where they’re all blind.
Do not think you’re alone, in your cold mind,
I am there with you and it’s all fine.

Darkness crawls faster, as moments fly by.
I can no longer suffer, or wish for peace to find,
me, unchanged and still as kind.
Take my hands before I fall and cross my finish line.

God is with the righteous, so we’re all right.
do not fear the judgement, of those who can die.
All sins forgiven before her eyes,
and she shared a little wisdom so I too can try.

These are my last words, my hail Mary.
Do not let in those who only have envy.
Our roads are scary and very long,
but they all lead to a place we both call home.
© Zeki Majed  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Across Bramble and Briar

Written: August 12, 2023
______________________________________________________________
I fitfully stumble through bramble and briar.
Cut by the cold promise of a lost season's fire,
It says it will lead me where I must roam.
Into our perennial place by the fire at home.

where memories of beauty before the fall,
Are alive and vibrant, standing tall.
A journey through thorns that may prick and tear
But I'll tread with courage, for love will be there.

The path may twist, with darkness in its wake.
But I'll follow the light, for love's sake.
Through tangled vines and tangled thoughts,
I'll push through the bramble, no matter the cost.

Beyond the thorns, there lies a treasure.
A sanctuary of love and pleasure.
A hidden world, where dreams come alive
Where the heart finds solace—love will thrive.

As I walk this path, a bird begins to sing.
Its mottled wings softly brushed away sorrow's sting.
Its melody fills the air—a sweet and soothing sound.
Guiding me forward as I journey around.

Through the bramble and briar, I'll forge my own way.
With hope as my compass—I'll not beat astray.
For in the evergreen of us, I find strength and peace.
A refuge from the chaos, a place of release.

The memories of beauty—fuel my desire.
To sustain pushing forward—to never tire.
In a world of anguish, frustration, and despair,
I'll continue to walk—love is always there.

Through swirls and tribulations—I'll persist.
Knowing that love's warmth cannot be missed
So, I'll stumble and fall—but I won't cave in.
I wish that love's journey is worth the pain.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Keep

Keep thinking, keep interested, keep praying, keep dreaming. Be mentally sensitive at all times so that the magic word that motivates you may one day speak to your deep inner self. Norman Vincent Peale

                ____________________________________________

Keep faith and brace to initiate your wave.
Stay resilient—reject to succumb or cave.  
Dwell directly down the desire you have set. 
Venture for your ambitions without regret. 

Strive to weather any obstacle or spree. 
Undying faith and clear aims are success key 
Implies sacrifice, commitment, and skill too
These are critical to an edge or breakthrough.  
 
Fulfill your goals, none is vain if you believe. 
No drag can be dealt and no dole can deceive. 
After exertion—there is no desultory vitality.
Never settle for a skewed version of reality. 
  
I was supine simply—staring at the wall.
Blinding lights shatter the glass hall.
Growing an overwhelming feeling of fear.
I still close my eyes and dream of sheer
  
Strolling in a dense woodland as it gets dark
Bright stars and an orange moon draw a spark. 
Anything in my close vicinity is lively and alive. 
Soaked and at peace, with no drive to strive. 
 
The faded history will be right in our grasp.
The faults and lofty goals no longer unclasp.
In the deepest, darkest world, there is no fear.
I am presently unfettered, resistant, and clear.

Living this way would have been flawless.
Relishing the splendor, peace, and aweless.
Realizing that our destiny is in His control.
Trusting His epic might bestow souls console. 

Embrace the light of faith—let fears starve.
Dreaming, wishing, and aiming may carve
That's why I keep trying; it's due to one desire.
A dream of freedom and justice never conspires.
  
If you have faith, your dreams will come true.
And boldly uncover the potential inside you.
Thus, resist the urge to cave up and cave in.
Keep your faith and let your adventure spin.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Dreams

I want to dream like a child used to do.
I want this world to become a home for me and you.
No wars and chaos, peace does emerge.
A bounty land feeds those in crave.

I dream to build a palace on top of monolith mountain.
Not a shovel that can be moved by strong wind.
It is sorrounded by transparent lake,
Birds are serenading each morn I awake.

I dream to cave in my loneliness under the moonlit shadow.
Embrace the coldest night beside the shore.
And make a wish to a falling star.
A prince charming will come to fill this empty heart.

I dream to rest in the arms of someone I loved.
Lying together in a green meadows,
Watching our children playing around.
Let the world  stop turning awhile.

I dream to travel the world, and be a superstar.
Write a poems, a lyrics of love.
Watch the stars in the night.
And dream that we can be forever young!

In a Garden of Dresses, I Am the Thorn

Do you
Think 
They noticed me? 

I mean 
I noticed 
Them 

Perfectly 
Perfect 

The epitome 
Of beauty 
Without lifting a finger 

Their skin 
As clear 
As my delusions 

Why did I 
Pick
This dress? 

How did I
Walk out of the house 
With the smile of “I look pretty”? 

They must think 
This bow in my hair 
Looks idiotic 

Plus the 
Holding my sweater
In front of me 

To hide 
My not 
Spindly frame 

Do you 
Think 
They noticed me? 

I mean 
How could I 
Not notice them? 

Their plates
Were never 
Full 

So I
Overflowed a napkin 
And made sure to throw it away 

Or cleaned up 
My lipstick in the bathroom a few times 
If I did cave in

If I left now
Do you think 
They’ll notice me? 

Like
Leave 
And not say anything?

They definitely wouldn’t 
Notice me 
Then
© Ali Lynn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Breaking Free

Some people have 'the look' and exemplify 'the part' for a lifetime.
The curtain has opened; their 'stage of life' unfolds, and the role they
seem destined to play, is set on autopilot with predictable outcomes.

Some others don't turn out the way they started.
Their personalities seem to take on a different being when
their environment changes. Their once WITHDRAWN persona
somehow escapes the narrow cave in which they were born.

In high school, their true FEELINGS seemed mostly SHROUD,
and any notion of freeing them from what seems a state
of DEPRESSION was out of the question. Nothing seemed to
ever excite them, and it appeared as if they were sold into
slavery and doomed to a life of MELANCHOLY.

They were never accused of being anti-social, but they certainly
were not very sociable. Their personal view of the world or even
their community was always totally GRIM, and their best
outlook on the world at large was sad and GLOOMY.

Notwithstanding, there are many who break free from the inward
WISTFUL state and become vocal leaders with broad opinions. From
wounded wings and borders of limitation, they rise and soar like eagles.
They tune into their creator, and discovering the purpose for which
they were born, deposit their unique contributions to their world.

052523PSCtest. Emile Pinet. Contest Name, Eight Word Challenge

Premium Member Apocalypse Beans

Apocalypse Beans

Sometimes it seems 
your chest is about to cave in.
You try to catch a breath but 
your heart flutters like a dry leaf;
Just more suburban undulations;
Dressed down for a slow blues song.
Apocalypse Beans sizzle on the fire.

Life has such trying interludes,
when it seems you can’t go further.
You are so tired and scared,
you can hardly urinate at dawn.
Your mind begins to see 
air movies of the dead ascending;
Crawling out of cracked tombs 
dressed sedately for the soirée.
A million funerals go by with 
skeleton girls sucking on pixy stix.
Madness angels in garters pass over 
sleeping streets searching for blood trees.
Stallion-dressed men-dogs chase down 
old octogenarians for bones and wisdom teeth.
Fear worms from hell come slinking,
Oozing out of a million eye sockets,
Sucking blood and brains sifting 
through transparent wires attached 
to rubber-hosed machines in musty rooms.
A million funerals moan inside the old graveyard
adjacent the First Methodist confines.
Gum-chewing embalmers gather 
to sing a torch song to the driveling and the dying.

Sometimes it seems 
I can hear the female choirs singing, 
their high-pitched Latin refrains again.
They stand erect in the choir loft fingering missals.
The young girls up there,
wear choir togs and slithering plaid beanies.
They read the notes and eye the glowing boys below.
Jesus and the stained glass ghosts look up from earth.
Apocalypse Beans sizzle on the fire.
Their cackle reamed with burning forget-me-nots.

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