Running From Moving Prisons



Do not take my booze,

My meds, my relief.

I don’t live without.  Without is

Life in prison with deadly awareness.

I don’t want to be grumpy.


Don’t take my joy.

Don’t take my colors.

Don’t flatten my soul.

Don’t make humans ugly.

Don’t make me shake

In absolute fear.

Do not take my booze.


Don’t take my laugh.

Don’t stifle my speech.

Don’t interfere with the day.

Don’t make me like others.

Don’t steal my inspiration

For living, for surviving, for creating.

Do not take my booze.


Dirty tossed coasters,

Broken televisions,  mildewed baseboards.

Frustrated, cracked dashboards,

Slimy orange mush flying in frozen air,

Rolling cans, stuffing, crashing,

Hiding from families and hiding from love,

Sarcasm is pure love.



My booze is gone.

I can sleep.

I can talk.

I can smile.

My prison has melted.

I can laugh – Yes,

My laugh is hardy.

I am free.


I am lovable.

Mind is free to work.

Won’t kill with my car.

I like people, humans again.

Stopped hating myself

So much, so violently, so desperately.

Obsessions leave, I breathe.

I am free.


Openness and mind amazed

By big possibilities.

Loving every single person,

Especially the most desperate.

The sun directs me

To a brand new life.



My liquid medicine is gone, and

The doctors’ medicines are powerless.

My inspiration gets darker and darker.

I can’t leave bed.

I don’t want booze, I want death.

My loved ones tell me,

It’s one thing after another with you, dear boy.

My mind, the toughest prison, slays me open.


I need a new drug.

They don’t make a drug

For my kind.

Shock me, shock me, shock me.

Take me to the sick farm.

Give me a bed with crisp

Sheets and a window, clean floors.

Set me free

From the world.


Broken, fragile, and desperately

Needing love.

Dark, wet, wool blankets

Forcing me to freeze

And stare straight.

Open wounds, crawling and moving,

Immune to patching.

Sarcasm is murderous.

Pills and doctors’ poisons send me

Into the panic of solitude.

Solitude which may not be as bad

As frozen death

or the murderous, sharp

prison cells of booze.


, , , , , , , , , , ,

  1. #1 by Life: Between the lines on December 29, 2010 - 10:05 pm

    …speaks of a tortured soul 😦
    Such a tough war to fight when one feels so alone…but the thing is we are never alone, never…we only need to reach out, someone is always near…
    This is a really tough piece to digest, especially when one is left feeling helpless…
    Thanks for sharing Carl

    • #2 by Carl on December 29, 2010 - 10:17 pm

      You are right about reaching out. For some of us, that is the hardest thing to do but it is absolutely necessary. Thank you for reading through this. It means a great deal to me.

      The poem is a bit tough, and I think the ending needs to have more hope. Maybe on another day, I can work on a little revision. 🙂

  2. #3 by Life: Between the lines on December 29, 2010 - 10:18 pm

    You are welcome…
    It can be too easy for us to get lost inside our own minds, it is great to leave it at times 🙂

  3. #4 by heather grace stewart on December 29, 2010 - 11:30 pm

    Do not revise a word. It’s honest and raw and I love that. I might be slightly annoying in my rose-coloured glasses, spreading sunshine beams and loveliness, but, head on over to my blog whenever you feel blue (and do know I write about nasty stuff, too). 😉

    • #5 by Carl on December 29, 2010 - 11:48 pm

      Thank you for the kind comment. And I do head over to your blog, and it is always a pleasure!

  4. #6 by robin ellen lucas on December 30, 2010 - 11:00 am

    it’s best to get in touch with your honest and true emotions, not cover them up just to look good on paper (in a poem, or in words to others). get in touch with your darkness and you find a way through it. i wrote something about this last night (not on my blog… but giving it to you anyway, since it’s on this subject. ‘yoga’ can be any quiet/silent/meditative activity you chose ->

    • #7 by Carl on December 30, 2010 - 10:56 pm

      Thank you for your comment. I read your article, and I believe what you say about yoga. Plain meditation or meditatively listening to music can give me that peaceful feeling.

  5. #8 by Evelyn on January 8, 2011 - 9:12 pm

    the words really take over and bring you to the end…
    very nice

    • #9 by Carl on January 8, 2011 - 11:10 pm

      You are very kind. I appreciate your comments more than you could know!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: