Primal

[jdeirmend]

Sunday morning after breakfast,
it came to me like Jesus
from the cave: I must scream,
a cry to rival my dear ancestors
clubbing their dinner to death.

I took a deep breath;
that's when my brain kicked in.
Neighbours are a dreadful thing
when you're suffering from revelation,
especially when they sleep late.

Outside - the houses, the streets,
the cars, the parks,
the hedges, the lights:
on every horizon a guard
chaining us to modern times.

I enjoyed this. Composition wise, it reads beautifully. The enjambment in the first stanza was artfully executed. My only objection is the last line. "modern times" simply doesn't work for me. "modern life" would be better, as would "civilization", if we're going to stick with abstractions. Beyond that, you could demonstrate what you're grasping at better with an image, and perhaps even use the same as a point of departure to further develop the poem. There is much more to say, I think, about the sort of confinement you're alluding to with this.