Long Chain mail Poems
Long Chain mail Poems. Below are the most popular long Chain mail by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chain mail poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
born under the sea, an irresistible force
two bodies reluctantly embrace, shunting, shifting, tectonic drifting
alongside the southern Iapetus Ocean
equatorial deep-time child of Laurentia and Avalonia
journey northward, surfacing, submerging
surfing the waves again, a colder Hibernian dalliance
precariously perched on Eurasian plate
old bedrock confused, youthful erosion above the ancient order
darkness entombed around channelled winter light
early New Grange civilisation, the Boyne valley before the blood
river mouth vikings, raiding, assimilating
birth of the coming capital, eastern stronghold, Baile Atha Cliath
chain-mail Norman conquerors castle-building
appointing pious supplicants with sword, cloth, crook and cross
wholly unholy alliances unravel
rival hierarchies sharing ill-gotten earthly reward from overseas
saintliness, brutality, men and women
expanding Christendom, pagan kingdoms adjusting to defeat
Patrick, Brigid, Columba, Columbanus
Irish civilising roman catholic conduits, Dalriata to Lindisfarne
outreaching, a strand of Irish character
yet to encounter future revisionary metaphysical thought
protestant rebellion, mainland overspill
praying elites competing, preying on the island's god-fearing people
avian watchers on Skellig pinnacles
warm ocean currents well-up, catching the southwestern gale
enduring the ill-will of nature and man
supplanting, subjugating, saving souls, the power of might and fear
treachery within or well beyond the pale
fair and dark hair, ginger genetics existing on the edge of life
tossed thin people hanging on, many leaving
scraping blighted ground, returning to the sea, promise of the unknown
I once lived in high Montana
and I knew a man who live there,
went by the name Rodrigo,
known to most for his wild hair.
But Roddy didn’t grow it long
to try and impress some girl,
Roddy was a history nut,
obsessed with the medieval world.
He had all sorts of goblets,
tankards, and great drinking horns,
he must’ve owned a dozen swords,
but was always buying more.
Roddy owned full chain-mail armor,
wore it to the renaissance fair,
and he paid no heed to the folks
who would shake their heads and stare.
But Roddy’s greatest possession
was one he built with his own hands,
Roddy had a full-sized catapult
and would launch stuff across his land.
One day I went to see my friend
and he was launching things out back.
He said,”Get me that watermelon,
and we’ll launch our next ‘attack.’”
We loaded up the giant fruit,
and laughed as it took to flight,
said he,”If launching fruit be wrong
then to hell with being right!”
Next we took a bunch of apples
to achieve a shot-gun effect.
I cracked a joke and Roddy laughed,
so hard we didn’t see what came next.
A black bear in the woods nearby
saw the apples in their pile,
and wouldn’t find a meal that good
if he wandered a dozen miles.
He ran out onto the scoop
while we were both still laughing,
Roddy pulled the lever, unaware,
and he sent the bear a-flying!
The bruin’s moan caught us both
as apple and bear too to sky,
across the field to lodgepole trees
did the beast and his lunch fly.
He disappeared in the branches,
vanishing from our line of sight,
I stood stunned, said to Roddy,
“Should we go see if it’s allright?”
Roddy shrugged and started walking,
we both made our way over there,
high up in an old lodgepole pine
sprawled a frightened, confused bear.
The branches had broken the fall,
saved the beast from being dead,
I said to Roddy,”We should go
before that bear can clear its head.”
Roddy took a picture on his phone
to prove what had happened that day,
then we beat a hasty retreat
before the bear could come our way.
To this day Roddy still recounts,
in his booth at renaissance fairs,
how catapults can launch anything,
even hungry and wayward bears.
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...
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
Put away your sword Sir
and step into the light.
Only words hold sway here.
Not that way,
There is nothing that can save you there,
All the words there have been poisoned.
There are words there in the dark that can make cuts that never heal
And words that will cut through even your bone.
Words that can deflect your best sword thrust.
Don't look down,
Those word will only make your blood boil
And don't touch those rocks
They contain words enough to crush your heart.
Best not to enter that pool,
Words are waiting there to destroy your soul.
Take off your chain mail,
If words of wisdom and light cannot penetrate,
You may yet still slip from my grasp.
There is no shelter in that cave,
Only words to confuse,
Words to haunt
Words that only spawn black thoughts
And worst of all are the words that eat into your hopes
Til you give them all up
Or words that can turn your dreams into nightmares.
There are words there that can blindside you,
Or bend your will til it loses power.
Best stay out of there if you don't want a hole where your heart used to be.
Good, you have left your sword behind you,
I knew you were listening.
Now I can show you how to master words more powerful than your sword,
All my lessons begin and end with Love.
You can run
But there’s no hiding from yourself.
Done is done.
Can’t put your soul upon a shelf.
Put your heart inside a box
It just keeps breaking all the locks
And getting free. There’s no mystery…
You can cry.
It doesn’t matter what they say.
Don’t know why
But does it matter anyway?
As the walls come tumbling down
In slow motion, with no sound
It all looks so darned profound
In the movies.
You can fight.
Doesn’t guarantee a win.
Is it right
Or just an ordinary sin?
Forge your chain-mail link by link
And make certain you will sink
Into the sea. There no mystery…
We complain
Stifled by our every choice.
Yet it’s plain
We love the sound of our own voice.
All those noises in your head
All those voices that you dread
It’s just the script nobody read
In the movies…
There’s no digital effects
That’ll clean up every mess.
No director yelling, “Cut! Let’s try again.”
We must all do our own stunts.
And we can only do it once.
But we’re no actors. We’re just ordinary men…
So, look around.
You can see it everywhere.
It’s not profound
Though, more or less, we’re unaware.
It’s the land of make believe
Meant to trap and to deceive
The unwary and naïve
In the movies…
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.
"Blind Man Turns"
Rest easy in my lull, Love
Love
is not the gentle goodnight, Love
in the beguiling
silence of Lost Lovers' Woods
It is the war we
all wager
reflections
in each other
We run from it
We run to it
The Labyrinth
we all are
striding fresh
through greener than green grass
roads we never thought
we’d journey
futures like bruises
bruises like roses blooming
bruises like sunsets fading
War torn
We All are
the softer, truth seeking and
the fallen, sharp metal shards
Love runs harder
than war
Love runs towards
you with its arrows
Bleeding slowly
Bleeding fast
Love
Heads or
Tails
Hearts
saved
Heads
rolling
Tongues
dry for a pass
wanting wet
trysts for duelling
tails short and long
tales to be read
to the dreams
that once in the past
were futures
formed like a sprouting bean in the belly
from
Love
Falling free and hard
short lived butterflies
wings transparent
veined in vanity
are
the Brave
waiting for
the burn
Love
bleeds hot
bleeds fast
Poets kissing soft warm bellies
whispering breath over sensual hearts
where the hot
holy see parts
singing
“this will last”
The Golden Grail
shining
waiting
for you
door
open
without
chain mail
holds a heart
bled and worn
An offering on your short
spare alter
never entirely yours
but always mine
blind man turns
his heart ripe like an apple
open and
star seeded
Light Burns
waiting to be tasted
a swallowed soul
without feathers
born again
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
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!