Poem: Chains

Chains

Rusted, they no longer hold you,
no longer bind you to the past, straining
like Atlas holding a world not
of your making,

no longer wrapped around you
like a death embrace, false protection,
false love, false truth. No,
they are now

museum pieces, and you wonder
how you made them, what
madness caused you to forge each link,
one by slow one, what

blindness could not see the binding
was not theirs,
but yours and you laugh
even as you forge new links. 

==============

The picture was taken in Rupert, VT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Of Hammers and Fences

Of Hammers and Fences

The fence is broken,
allowed over time
and on purpose,
to fall into neglect,

each slat slowly snapping
and falling to the side
allowing any in
who wish to come,

children and lovers,
those who are kind
and those who threaten
by slowly nibbling

away at your soul,
and you wonder at the wisdom
of a world without fences,
and for a moment,

think of repairing the neglect,
gathering your tools in anticipation
until, standing there
you change your mind

and begin instead
to pull off the broken slats,
and taking your iron hammer
to the braces, shattering them,

deciding not to rebuild,
or to let the fence slowly die,
but instead to remove it
altogether.

================

The picture was taken in Wells, Vermont, a few miles from my home. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: The Mystery of Gates

The Mystery of Gates

You stand at the gate, nearly heartshaped,
the walls around it stone and high,
the wood planks thick and aged,
ringed with hardware from another age,
and wonder....

Is it there to keep you out,
to protect some perfect soul
from your infidel's imperfection,
to prevent ruin and chaos
from entering the holy ground;

or to hold something else,
something dark and sinister,
secret and devouring,
in?

===============

The picture is of the Kali Temple Gate, in of all places, Disney World's Animal Kingdom. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom