Long Caveman Poems
Long Caveman Poems. Below are the most popular long Caveman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caveman poems by poem length and keyword.
January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening
Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter
for mass communication
mediums stop the presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence
to dispense with the heady eco system
viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of
flaky key neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,
who mane lee scout out available
head and shoulder room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
watership down pieces
of prime residence found
counting one mister comb lee
bald bold faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured
cut above other stylish habitués
preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,
which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,
who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer
a real perm in hint bang up job
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail.
Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.
Battle of the Sexes
A Collaboration Between: Pandita Sanchez and Eric L. Boddie
As beautiful and smart as you are,
you always seem to take it too far.
I know some of it is just;
but there is still so much that never needed to be discussed.
It could be that you too often misunderstand me,
overcomplicating and seeing life differently.
They say men are from Mars and women from Venus,
so things will never be simplified between us.
Tell me, what am I to think -
I mean, your mood changes within a blink;
so much emotion can sometimes get in the way,
you like pushing buttons - what's that shade of gray?
One minute you say that I’m too emotional;
then when I prove to be your equal, you call me irrational.
Is it just that I’m way too much woman for you?
And, perhaps, you really don’t have a clue?
There you go again thinking you are all that;
that's the reason we are always off track.
I love everything about you, but I tire of the stress;
and I can't calm you down unless I get you undressed.
See that's exactly what I'm talking about -
resorting to caveman tactics makes you believe you have clout;
but you're no longer a boy, so you should know better, Boo,
you're wearing me out with your commitment issue.
You see, I just can't ever win.
So don't stand there trying to pretend
like you are faultless in all of this;
but the blame always hits me - it has never missed.
While I admit that I’m not totally blameless,
I’ve been the one who‘s always willing to do more while you do less.
In fact, like Rodin’s ‘Thinker’ you just brood over our problems;
but I’m the mover and shaker who actually tries to solve them.
You know what? I am done with all this…
I mean, you know I am addicted to your sweet kiss
which, consequently, makes arguments hard to resist,
all because there is not a feature about you I want to miss.
So please just let me say -
the indifferences need to end, and let's start anew today.
Well we don’t need to be arguing all the time sinking into quicksand,
if like two adults, we address concerns before they get out of hand.
But in spite of what our differences may be,
I know we love each other to the nth degree;
and in the end, we know we’re worth it, and we’ll see,
man and woman, we can work it out together, Baby, you and me.
There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!
Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers!
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!
And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!
In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!
In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!
By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight,
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!
There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”
On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!
Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!
Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”
Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter
3/17/18
I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.
The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.
Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.
Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude
even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud
general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the nude,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and prude
folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.
One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude
when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.
Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection
in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,
when our respective gametes
(ova and sperm cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble
a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.
I burrow in silence locked in the depths of a grave.
I need no more guidance as I dwell in my hollow cave.
Unknown whispers…they creek and moan and I am left breathless
trying to pick up the pieces of my last transgression. I’ve been here before. I’ve gained and I’ve lost and somewhere in between I remain
unstable. I want to dig a deep hole to bury my head. It would be
covered in soil and would reek of regret.
Above the grass yet below the trees I live in a cavern made of clay and hard stone. It shadows each memory and releases all the reasons
why I hate myself. Please...no more thinking about the reasons I
need to stay alive. I ask the cold stone why I am left to
starve in such darkness made by my own hands. He tells me I forgot
how to be sane and my mania needed to take a break. I created a
world of flashbacks leading to my miserable life. Each
flashback contains less joy and each time of joy makes me shutter
in ugliness. I am undeserving of such things.
Under the brink of my life lies understanding of why I have been abandoned by everyone I know. They all say I am worthless and mean
nothing to them. I agreed with them and left as soon as the twilight hit midnight and before the dew spread across the land. I cry
out to the constellations and ask for forgiveness of my
mistakes made intentionally. I am nothing but a sorry cause ready
to take flight on top of a black dove. White doves are pure and innocent. Black doves are a reflection of my poor soul. I have seen the depth of this
cavern for so long I think I am turning into a man without
a thought. No eyes to see inside a home of obscurity. Murky and
dusty I feel so alone that I wish to breathe no more. It’s so stuffy in the
shadows. The fog outside tries to shield me from the bitterness of my resentments, but it carries not enough strength to achieve such a goal.
I have nothing more to give and no more reasons to live.
I have so much to forgive and please one more sedative.
I have no more lies to spill and no more time to kill.
I have no more cries to thrill and no more rhyme to quill.
-there is no more hope inside your soul when you’re a caveman.
Caves Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Date Written: August 3, 2016
Anticlimactic mood after February 18th, 2021 snow storm subsided
I hate spoiler alert
regarding weather forecasters prediction,
especially when meteorologist
wannabe spouse doth blurt
out impending blizzard
which never materializes.
Yours truly humbled and enamored
when Mother Nature
singly and/or nsync with old man winter
looses propensity to wreak havoc
and/or blankets landscape
I fondly think back
remembering '96 storm of the century.
At that time January 1996
me and the missus timesharing
Shawnee on the Delaware
ardently striving, yet
unsuccessful conceiving Blizzard Baby.
Now far beyond procreative age,
(though I wistfully envisage
begetting another progeny -
simultaneously stretching credulity
to breaking point)
all things considered
exhaustion would peter out
after capitulation of divining rod
necessitating lifetime to recoup energy.
Bound within figurative four walls
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania domicile
courtesy appreciable snowfall,
I direct energy crafting poem.
Yours truly will actually
refrain comestibles despite feeling hungry -
lest metabolism to digest food
decreases potential alertness,
and full belly finds me
ready able and willing
to doze immediately into deep slumber.
Hungry stomach in tandem
with eventful weather
sends surge of giddiness
coursing thru body electric
crackling, popping, and snapping
(while O Captain My Captain)
came to witty man (me) suddenly
enervating with poignant pregnant expectancy
papa pondering his empty nest syndrome
analogously attempting to offset void
coaxing poem into existence
unsure how literary endeavor
(mine) will thrive
amidst well suited
panoply of prolific writers,
whose unseen fingers
hop lightly and gracefully
across qwerty computer keyboard
akin to heavy armed soldiers
with fearlessness and deliberation
heading off to war to acquire poetic license.
Meanwhile chafed knuckles
of one garden variety primate
previously scraping along tundra
(methinks I espy frozen Mastodon)
(before twenty first century caveman
learned to stand erect)
endeavors to strike letter combinations
eliciting, facilitating, and generating
enticing curb appeal.
LXII+ years old and he still carries a security blanket
Move over Linus
Van Pelt of Peanuts fame,
cuz yours truly
also psychologically lame
since prepubescence
mine noticeably long hair
delivered inner comfort,
yet found some classmates
calling me "hippy" by name
though other tormentors among them
hurled expletive laced offensive insults
even ethnic slurs much less tame.
Absolute zero
anti-bullying laws prevailed ahoy
when reasonably rhyming poet
just a little beastie boy
"mean kids" hurtful tactics
they did deploy,
though one bookish lad named Donald Hoy,
he rode the same bus as me,
and most likely practiced magic ploy
to ward off nemesis.
Impossible mission
to detangle mane reason why
I experienced omnipotent
hair reed bond neither thy
father, mother nor therapist
could understand or qualify
outsize (obsessive/compulsive)
significance well nigh
much more (hyperbolically writing)
blatantly mystifying and unsettling
versus comprehending meaning
regarding the bridge on the River Kwai,
whereat these long strands
emanating from scalp, I
imagined them extending
out into space into no fly
zone, and if adored locks threatened
with someone brandishing scissors
one puny lad would cry.
Parents did not berate,
when early within mein kampf,
no matter my mother did execrate
obsessive compulsive thoughts did instigate
long necked pencil geek son
did unwittingly irritate
analogous to Samson
(though Delilah not my mate),
I imbue power courtesy each golden lock
atop me addled sub tracked pate,
where fifty plus shades of gray matter
houses ticky tacky psyche substrate,
which doth bubble, gurgle and percolate.
Only upon taking me last breath of air
viz, when grim reaper delivers death,
I will unroll welcome me
Scottish Harris tweed mat without fanfare
(for this common man),
and just maybe allow, enable, and provide
thee opportunity for scissors
to lop off longish straggly hair
subsequently repurposed into a
security blanket ideally suited
to create creature comfort within lair
for garden variety and generic caveman,
who truth be told lives very near
yours truly in Schwenksville.
Listen up, 'cause I'm about to break it down
From caveman to spaceman, desires abound
Security, survival, that's where it begins
Food, water, shelter, protection from our sins
But we ain't stop there, oh no, we expand
Love, knowledge, purpose, and creativity are in demand
We grow, we learn, and we strive to be more
Leaving our mark on every distant shore
Then comes the thrive, the comfort, the excess
Material possessions, power, and finesse
Time, freedom, pleasure, we want it all
Building empires that touch the sky so tall
Transcend, they say, leave a legacy behind
Spiritual connection, universal design
Immortality through deeds, through progeny
A desperate grasp at eternity
From fertile lands to Silicon Valleys
From stone tablets to digital tallies
We've wanted, we've taken, we've consumed with greed
But at what cost? At what speed?
Now pause, reflect, look around and see
The planet groaning under you and me
Our wants have grown, but our home's in pain
Oceans choking, forests in flames
So what if... what if we want different things?
What if our desires took a different swing?
Love for the planet, that's the real gold
Responsible living, a story untold
Shed the excess, the harmful, the waste
Embrace the simple, the pure, the chaste
Security in balance, not in more
Fulfilment in giving, not in store
Thrive in harmony, not in conquest
Find transcendence in nature's behest
Ancient wisdom meets future needs
A new want, a different creed
So I want this, yeah, I want it bad
A world where our wants don't make Earth sad
Where desires align with planetary health
Where true connection is the real wealth
From core to transcendent, let's redefine
What it means to want, to shine
Love for the planet, that's the new desire
Responsible living, let's take it higher!
'Cause when we want what Earth can sustain
We all win, break the consumption chain
So shed those desires that harm and deplete
And embrace the wants that make life sweet
This is our time, our moment to choose
A new way of wanting, nothing to lose
But a planet to gain, a future so bright
Where our wants and Earth's needs unite!
Full Circle
In The beginning of humanity there was a humble caveman
Who lived in a cave with his female companion. As they
Looked for food and created various weapons, their
Society grew and they became more advanced in their
Ways of life. They made primitive spears and used wooden
Clubs to kill their prey. As time went on they discovered a
Way to make fire. As thousands of years went by, men
Had evolved, living in huts and using coracles to fish in
Rivers. They created metal armour and weapons, so that they
Could fight wars and secure land and wealth by fighting and
Winning battles, but costs were very high, as people
Would die to protect what was theirs. Time progressed,
And men became more civilised after discovering the wheel,
But now wars became bigger and the loss of life was
Higher, but men's conquest excelled, primitive men
Became intelligent and they built roads and buildings to live in.
They were a modern society, which created governments
With wealth, by taxing their people and forming a controlled
Society with laws that had to be obeyed and groups of men
Who became Police and enforced rules that would cost the
Society money if they broke them, and inprisonment
If they were found guilty, - those laws were to be obeyed or
Refusal would cost people dearly. As Governments evolved
They concentrated on a military force to protect the people
From harm. There were soldiers who would travel on
Land and sea and later air. Bombs and super weapons were
Created to blow up cities and possibly the world as we know it.
As the biggest invention since the discovery of the wheel was
The Atom Bomb. It destroyed many lives and left the fallout of
Heavy nuclear radiation around for years to come.
In the 1950's it threatened to end all life on Earth, and the
Threat has been real ever since. Inventions are designed to
Improve the quality of life in our society, but with all these
Weapons of war have we really learnt at all, or reverted
To our savagery coming full circle back to our past,
Were we used to exist like the primitives in the realm
Of a prehistoric society fighting with rocks, clubs and spears.
American cosmonaut
moonwalking
Humanity is tethered to the line,
sweating vacuum fear facing the void
Planet of the apes ...
backwards talking
Silent film projector reel
spinning in reverse ... time capsule re-entry noise
Caveman slug in a spacesuit
retrograde crawling
Mushroom cloud cinematography ...
flashback to the future Stone Age trajectory
And Superman in a Captain America spacesuit
ain’t trying to save no one
The giant red star of Krypton
orbiting Washington
is gonna explode,
sucking the Earth into a black hole
Listen to the Neanderthal war chants
devolving into military gorilla grunts
Toraburu ... Rising sun trouble coming
Hear the nuclear choo-choo,
rich uranium promises ain’t worth nothing
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Trouble means Toraburu,
choo-choo ... choo-choo
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Toraburu,
lost in space translation
Hear the choo-choo,
around the bend coming is nuclear devastation
And Super Tweetman in a Captain America spacesuit
ain’t trying to save no one
The white dwarf star of Krypton
orbiting Washington
is gonna implode,
sucking the Earth into a black hole
Superman can you climb
out of the bottomless black hole?
American cosmonaut
moonwalking ...
backwards talking ...
retrograde crawling
Toraburu ... Rising sun trouble coming
Hear the nuclear choo-choo,
rich uranium promises ain’t worth nothing
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Rubble piles of Toraburu,
choo-choo ... choo-choo
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Toraburu,
trouble for the United Nations
Hear the choo-choo,
around the bend coming is global desolation
Toraburu,
insanity curse is coming soon
Death smoke from the choo-choo,
will blot out the sun and moon
Woe, woe ... woe!
Superman is kryptonite sick
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Captain America is radiation sick
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick