The sound of wheels on tarmac
Keeps me focused
Keeps me grounded
Keeps me present
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Takes me farther and farther away
From everything I have ever known
Chained up like a worthless dog
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Reminds me that rebellion
Always comes at a price
You just have to decide if it’s worth the prize
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Tells me that my fight is far from over
The war not nearly won
Whether I’m protesting from my backyard or someone else’s overseas
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Fills my heart with pity
Pity for a society
Too at peace with being alive but not really living
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes my whole body tingle
My life sentence stinging and burning
As we near my new home
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes me hope
That the words scribbled on my torso
Inspire others to likewise pick up their pens
I am told it is mightier than the sword
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Places courage in my veins
A man who has lost his freedom
Has no more to lose than himself
The sound of wheels on murram
Tells me we've arrived
Liberty on a pedestal but her chains are hidden
We built our walls of fear, not stone,
And called them safety, called them home.
While liberty stood watching, mute,
As we forged golden shackles to
Protect ourselves from phantom threats.
The eagle with clipped wings still soars
In memory and faded song,
But cannot reach the heights once known
When boundless skies invited flight.
We trade our voices for a peace
That echoes hollow in the night.
Each right surrendered—small at first—
Until the weight of all we've lost
Becomes the chain we drag behind.
Silent statues weep at dusk,
Their copper dreams corroded now.
Freedom's torch extinguished by
The very hands that raised it high.
Yet hope remains in whispered words,
In those who question, those who stand.
For liberty, though bound, still breathes
And waits for hands to break these chains.????????????????
in the serene countryside,
he found himself on a cliff
caught in chains of blood
pushed to the edge by his father's will
who wished he never existed
too depressed to scream it out
even the nature can't help him out
alive but hushed into a confinement
only to live scared of new dawn
The tyranny of modernity
—aspiration enslaved
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
A naïve life possessed by the power of desire
turns into an object inanimate and utterly inert.
Existence untainted and vibrant if captured
by the cruel clutch of unrepressing lust,
rolls like fallen gems, the string ruptured.
The senses drenched in acidic insolence
don’t for a moment repent the presence
in dismal heart the perennial obsession
of fostering the desire in shades of grey ,
decimating the spirit of its possession.
For the body and mind ravaged by vile craving,
living is no longer an animated concept, it’s futile.
The sunken piteous heart breaks asunder to pile
at the threshold of disgrace in debris of disdain.
Where has sanity gone, times don’t have the answer.
The perception called life adored and fostered,
a precious treasure to be preserved with pride.
When it crumbles as an object used and discarded,
the heart pines to get unshackled in prison of hatred
to find solace for the shamed soul in oblivion.
August 31, 2020
Contest : Woman In Chains
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Peer into the heart of any woman:
and tell me, what do you see?
Is it a woman shackled to pain,
crying in despair, at the weight of her chains?
She breathes, she breeds, and she dies;
like a lesser being, in servitude to a man.
A child of Eve, reduced to chattel by the church,
mothers and sisters, sexually,
physically, and mentally
abused and exploited by their fathers and brothers.
It's time for women to break their chains
of conformity and assert their rights.
Men too often act like arrogant apes;
out of step with time and truth.
And yet, they rule the world
of their creation.
Men have always coveted being kings:
and still do.
With few exceptions, most macho men
feel the only right a woman has,
is the right to pleasure them.
So, step up, ladies,
and inform them; they're wrong!
giant hand clamps her mouth tightly shut
she does not even try to speak
has traded life for love
but is this it?
is this it?
She dares not speak
her truth
her ideas
her thoughts
Is she dreaming that she had them?
Possibly.
The fear of making him angry keeps her perpetually silent.
She doubts that her children knows she has thoughts.
She has not seen her family of origin for over ten years.
They have never met her three children.
They would be shocked at her submissiveness.
Her old self would not even recognize her.
Fear keeps her silent.
He says she can leave.
He will keep the children.
Fear he will start hurting them next keeps her here.
And so she stays.
Chained to the man she loves.
Written 8-29-2020
Contest: Woman in Chains
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Here, away from the weight of strain
where domestic thorns are spiked and ripped,
she entangles her damp hair
then bares frozen sighs, running barefoot
along softened meadow grounds;
her soul cleansed by moonglow's peace,
forced not to yield to a man's cycle
of incessannt rage, as moist eyes
float with the new moonlight's gentleness
rendering herself empowered once more
against the hissing of pierced words ,
lesions marked on a slammed body... until
a balmy oak offers a hammock of strength,
while she tries to grasp the truth; aware now
that an alliance quite violent is illusion's bite.
Mindful, she knows she must return home,
to finally unchain herself from the shackles
of his vicious game... it is all over.
John Hamilton's Woman in Chains Contest
8/29/2020
UNDER THE GLASS CEILING part 1
Mary and Angelica ,ladies of great renown
Painters extraordinaire in Ol' London town
Still life,portraits & history on a grand scale-
Left out of a group painting because they were not male !
NOTE Mary Moser & Angelica Kauftmann help to found the R & A but were left out of the 1770's painting of Academicians .There were to be no other women members until 1922.
UNDER THE GLASS CEILING part 2
Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann
furnished with brush and pan.
Each a Victorian 'Miss'
tied in service's abyss.
NOTE Upstairs and down stairs ,no in between,just thirteen and just there to please as Master and Lady take their ease.
THROUGH THE GLASS CEILING
Deborah,God annointed Judge&Prophetess
a matriarch,overseer of men,..no less;
Mary,at Jesus feet,studied...just as a man
in Christ there is no gender ban
Each link a tear drop dripping down her face
Wrapped around her thought’s weighting within
Memories of torture and pain through the years
Thought’s and memories wanting them to disappear
Four boy’s also wrapped in chains unable to escape
Sleepless night’s of fear and fright alone and ashamed
No escaping theses chains of thought’s and hope
That will never disappear
Dedicated To: My Mother
The sullen stars seemed
guardian angels,
looking at me from the half opened sky.
Their stares were comfort of my crying,
as though sending a message to fight,
their wide wings flapped
and took me up
from my cell of chain.
We flew in my dreams,
drifted-
as if the wind heard our laughter.
Every lonely night, they were hanging
on every moon's ray to cheer up my bout:
For my freedom.
O' moon, my love
I miss you, miss you
It’s so gloomy here
Reveal yourself,
And chase away the shadows
It’s so cold 'N dark here
A warm kiss of love,
On the forehead, gently
Would do, for sure
Conquer thy anger
N' speak to me, again
I’m so lonely here
caught up in your
interpretation of reality
the nightmare repeats
in neverending loops
within confines
you’re your own prisoner
where in truth
there exists no bars
your cell a fabrication of illusion
that keeps you down and chained
unable to see the freedom
that awaits you
just beyond
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on August 20, 2020 for contest WOMAN IN CHAINS sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 4TH
She lately hears lyric nightingale at the sole window,
And through its bars witnesses a melancholy moon,
And her heart longs for the freedom of velvety flight,
But lessons she now knows weren't learned too soon!
An innocent victim of childhood abuse and ensuing rage,
In the days of sugar plum fairies and make believe,
A streetwise teenage runaway, who soon lost her way,
After making an unwise choice of whom she would love!
During lights out she makes plans and begins to reminisce,
Knowing in her young heart, it won't always be like this,
Like the transient rainbows that are destined to reappear,
Or the twinkling stars that often grant fervent wishes!
Her youth has mercifully granted her second chances,
In accordance both with beautiful logic and holy decree!
Written on August 19, 2020
For: Woman in Chains Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Bound by your gaze look away
Bound by your brute strength crush away
Woman in Chains
We are woman in chains
Looks at her man with courage
Always excuses always hope
Woman in Chains
We are woman in Chains.
Waiting on your mercy with nowhere to turn
Feeling it all crumble with a fist, feeling it crack
Woman in Chains
We are woman in Chains
Men gone cold
Men gone cold
All I can feel is numbness in my heart
My spirit is broken and so is my will
Woman in Chains
We are woman in Chains
It’s a world made by men
With rules played by them
Woman in Chains
Keep woman in Chains
You can touch and feel with your hands
And rip me apart, clip my wings
Woman in Chains
We are woman in Chains
Let her Fly
Let her Fly.
19.08.2020
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