When I was a girl,
Every once in a while,
I’d receive in the mail,
Because that was the style,
A letter to copy
And send to a name
At the top of a list,
Which in that letter came.
When you copied the note,
You’d add your own address
To the list, while deleting
The top one. Success
Came when after some days
You’d receive quite a slew
Of the letters, from strangers,
Delivered to you.
If you followed the rules,
You would have some good luck.
If you didn’t, without it,
I guess you’d be stuck.
The letters back then
Needed stamps and were mailed
And the fun part was knowing
That you had prevailed.
Now my granddaughter sent me
A chain in a text:
“Sent to 15 new people
Or what happens next
Will be lots of bad luck
For 3 years if you don’t.
If you do, you will get
A new phone.” (No, I won’t.)
“You will also be getting
The pet of your dreams.
Everybody will love you!”
I guess that’s how it seems
To the youth of today,
But with this kind of chain,
As I wrote to my granddaughter,
I will refrain.
Come here please
so all can see
how beautiful, sensual
and irresistible you are to me.
You move very slowly
like a cunning cat,
your fur looks so inviting
but your claws are intact.
Is my chain mail
strong enough to engage,
will I be able to come of age.
We brush by one another,
the scent is hypnotic,
I know now
my armor is just idiotic.
Your claws are erect
they rip through my skin and bones,
I am completely tattered,
battered, and left alone.
I pick myself up
and tend to my wounds,
I was a gallant knight,
but now completely bestrewn.
These gashes I received,
tearing my soul apart,
will never fully heal,
always having a wounded heart.
I will move forward in this state
as most must do,
never fully allowing
one’s passionate dreams
come true.
Submission, sound thy service.
O slave, soar as ye fall.
Sacred vision, sacrifice.
Keel o'er, one and all.
Thunder on the mountain steep?
Storm, thy purple cloud.
O ye shepherds, guard thy sheep!
Burial, thy shroud.
Raw the wounded inside?
The pain is very fresh.
Poisonous snake, how you hide!
Chain mail, be my mesh.
Yellow queen in city old?
Warrior, be thou bold...
Cavern grotto, art thou cold?
Light issues from mold.
Gold on river bottom?
It's been there for some time.
Wargod evil, beat thy drum!
Hurricane, blow chime!
Deep the dragon's den and dark.
Dole and doom, thy health.
Spaceship massive, where to park?
Treasure, seek thy wealth.
Rake leaves for a bonfire?
It will burn hot and fast.
Will within me, on the pyre?
Never meant to last.
Roundabout the river runs?
Thousand-fold and taut.
Sevens, elevens, and ones?
Golem, what you got.
Dripping down the chasm?
Alert not anything.
Black abyss, thy spasm!
O fairies, dance in ring...
I’m not holding on to anything,
not the body or its dreams,
or dream-bodies.
Not really thinking,
watching unattached the mind-play.
Mind sews cobwebs into chain-mail.
That which holds this 'I' together
rolls with no anchors
within its own confused rivering.
I leave and return.
The sun is rising behind winter trees,
I am not looking,
I am remembering another sunrise.
Yet the sunrise is out there,
even now rising,
that unseen light
clears mind and eyes.
The day will take me soon,
commanding me to own what I claim to be,
but in the next pre-dawn,
the next surfacing,
I will know again that I am not.
"Chain Mail"
Amor Amore Amour
Armor Armour
Chain Mail
l’amour
Read red
Written and worn
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
There was a man named Dale who dressed himself in chain mail,
In the absence of fan mail,
Whilst checking for more mail,
To cover his big toe nail,
He stood on a rusty nail,
And got caught in some hail,
When a taxi he failed to hail,
His chain mail leaving a paper trail,
Which the police were able to trail,
Right up to the jail,
And he may still be in that jail,
Not able to get bail,
As everyone knows it is hard to get bail,
When chain mail,
Is too wet to send through the mail.
Rushing away from the Devils hair hoisting heave
Rushing to Gods downy laced embrace, searching as astray and bereaved.
Rushing away from your most tenebrous night-frights.
Rushing to your chain mail-cloaked knight.
Rushing away from the skies troubling tears.
Rushing to the sun-singed grassy spears.
Rushing away from the contemporary world atrocities.
Rushing to the falsely glazed generosities.
Rushing away no longer
Only rushing to authorities, tongue untied, and hands unclasped from behind my allegorically lashed back.
Rushing away, wiped from my options, forced to breathlessly quarrel and yack.
BEGUILED
His arms proclaim a prize – me – to ravish
But I protest - I’m here to lavish
Gift me, my knight, adore my soul with praise
And promise me your love for all my days
He smirks a grin - tries to woo me with guile
But he melts when I mete him a prized smile
I love her curves, her soft ivory skin
My lustful intent - impure with sin
Yet my heart faints for her – this wholesome jewel
Abandon my armor – I’ll be her fool
He’s more handsome and courageous, today,
And his armor shines. I’ve won his soul’s pay!
Your chain mail bows with your embracing knee
And I accept this finger crown from thee
8/22/2016
The quiet library rented my mind for a season in an hour time is a hand no one ever sees I
think this is an end bend the spoon lick the blade it’s all for sale silence is chain-mail
reason hits like a kiss of claws scratching for salvation the key of A drove a composer
mad drawing of a withered woman lost in a face
Far far away there's a place of great beauty;
The place has many wonders:
Like the big and huge dragons,
Or the ferocious warriors, battling;
Clad in chain mail,
Or the magnificent warships, ready for a voyage,
Setting their sails.
There is no barren land;
No space for desert sand,
But many a field,
Wonderful crops which yield.
The forests are full of life and green
Where not a sight goes unseen,
There is the cure for every disease
And all the people can live at ease.
It is a place where dreams come true,
And the problems there are little too.
Such a wondrous land does exist,
A place where your worries will be least;
Where everything is possible, it seems,
The beautiful land of beautiful dreams!
hot is the noon sun
melting flowers in the mud…
arena cheers for raw blood
I glare at my foe
his dagger raking bruised knee
…weight of life upon my shield
fierce blow cracks his neck
rudis pressed on stained chain mail…
breath smelling of freedom’s prize
audience casts flowers
thumbs hunger for next combat
more slaves to kill… but not me.
©
*rudis---when a gladiator is set free as a slave
after a bout, he is given a wooden sword,
named rudis.
For Amy Green’s Choka for Chokehold
By nette onclaud
Original perception
That wave of thought
Just breaking into breath
Eyes awake
The formative tissue merges
Seeking destiny with each pounding rivet
The sensory system develops
Highly charged with Nabisco appetites
As valves open and close filtering
Shimmering cultural ennui
World weariness revolts
Motors charged innervated
With bold forward missions
Spiritual prowess
Masked in the empire of symbolic
Dominance
To give up the cultural mandate
Reheat the branding mechanism
Of limited identities clinking in chain mail
And release the contracted talons as they are
Ready to unfold, break loose
Original perception
That wave of thought
Just breaking into breath
Eyes awake
The formative tissue merges
Seeking destiny with each pounding rivet
The sensory system develops
Highly charged with Nabisco appetites
As valves open and close filtering
Shimmering cultural ennui
World weariness revolts
Motors charged innervated
With bold forward missions
Spiritual prowess
Masked in the empire of symbolic
Dominance
To give up the cultural mandate
Reheat the branding mechanism
Of limited identities clinking in chain mail
And release the contracted talons as they are
Ready to unfold, break loose
Original perception
That wave of thought
Just breaking into breath
Eyes awake
The formative tissue merges
Seeking destiny with each pounding rivet
The sensory system develops
Highly charged with Nabisco appetites
As valves open and close filtering
Shimmering cultural ennui
World weariness revolts
Motors charged innervated
With bold forward missions
Spiritual prowess
Masked in the empire of symbolic
Dominance
To give up the cultural mandate
Reheat the branding mechanism
Of limited identities clinking in chain mail
And release the contracted talons as they are
Ready to unfold, break loose
Original perception
That wave of thought
Just breaking into breath
Eyes awake
The formative tissue merges
Seeking destiny with each pounding rivet
The sensory system develops
Highly charged with Nabisco appetites
As valves open and close filtering
Shimmering cultural ennui
World weariness revolts
Motors charged innervated
With bold forward missions
Spiritual prowess
Masked in the empire of symbolic
Dominance
To give up the cultural mandate
Reheat the branding mechanism
Of limited identities clinking in chain mail
And release the contracted talons as they are
Ready to unfold, break loose
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.