Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Men and Chains

The road comes early

Like its been traveling all night
     On blacktop
     And the gritof photographs
 The pittedglare of the sun
Breaks tree topped hills
With every push of light
Every push of mile beneath his feet
He drives deeper into the falling sky
And rising dirt
Where it is just the sound of his sweat and steel
That makes the difference
He drives harder
At the wild inside
That cuts holes in his gut
The way time cuts men into a million tiny pieces
The way broken bottles build rear view mirrors
Long roads
And men with chains

This is submitted to dverse poets pub open link night


  1. snap this is hot, got a great rhythm of its own and love the transformative lines...broken men and broken bottles become back like

  2. powerful and sad write dustin..the way time cuts men into tiny pieces..the broken bottles becoming rear view mirrors...great and painful images..dang

  3. This is the type of piece that makes me want to grab my own pen and write. Realistic and fantastic imagery lend even more power...I'm going to shut up now and grab my own're words have inspired! Thank you!

  4. A skillfully crafted and interesting poem. Beautifully done. Visit me! xxxj

  5. This is a very powerful write. Lots of good sounds that strike at the meaning. Thanks for sharing.

  6. Reads very poetic from top to bottom.... I loved the image of the early morning road, each mile pushing him, until it is just the sound of his sweat and his steel.. way cool...... the falling sky and rising dirt, in him like the wild deep inside, but cut to pieces by time. Wow. Spot on life of a man. Broken bottles become the rear view mirrors of where we once were, before we were broken. That's just incredibly awesome!