Modified Google Image


pressed against
a cold window frame
staring into the darkness
recalling those
below ancient decks
with manacled hands
and feet
the smell
of rotting flesh
the sound
of rusted chains
a legacy of pain
and sorrow
wondering now
about the future
of those bound
to tenements
asking if their chains
are not the same
rusted chains
of despair
that still grasp
cut deep
into the skin
of humanity
drawing new blood
that mingles
with the dried blood
of their forefathers
a thought interrupted
by the rattle
of windows
as a train passes
on the edge
of the have
and have

14 thoughts on “chains…

  1. And the way the economy is heading now, will the imbalance of prosperity and poverty ever be rectified? “It’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from going under.” – Grandmaster Flash. Nice write, Charles.

  2. The inter city in my town needs way more caring, loving people out there DOING. It takes a phenonminal amount of time, and much effort building relationships to effect any kind of real change. In our minds we cannot even fathom where their mind is at, at any given moment. Our past experiences don’t begin to compare to theirs. Walk by their side, love without judging, but be there.

  3. Sandwiched between the innocence of everyday actions and occurrences, we fall into a hell fashioned of chains. There are all sorts of chains – and they cut not only at the flesh, and not only at those who wear them… We are all linked, whether we like it or not. Pure brilliance, this poem.

  4. the train passing on the edge of have and have nots, the chains that still bind today to the wrong decisions of the past…i wish we could get rid of those chains before they enslave us…a brilliant write..

    rgd. your comment on my post…you are quite close charles…not that much political direction but you heard the melody…kudos

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