When I freeze, I breathe.
There are loving black shoes,
and they kick at my gut, warmly.
When I warm, I watch for grace,
but what am I expecting from so low?
There is a smooth movement.
I know I would never freeze again,
but I know I’ve been dreaming again.
American Culture, Depression, Idealism, Isolation, Love, Poems, Poetry, Take Me To The Hospital
This entry was posted on February 8, 2012, 9:01 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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stillfugue
#1 by abichica on February 9, 2012 - 1:38 am
beautiful!! 🙂
#2 by Carl on February 29, 2012 - 9:39 pm
Thank you for your comment!
#3 by siubhan on February 9, 2012 - 6:08 pm
… but i’ve been dreaming again… dangerous stuff, Carl….
#4 by Carl on February 29, 2012 - 9:39 pm
Perhaps a bit of a dirty trick, eh? Thanks for commenting!
#5 by heikewrites on February 10, 2012 - 12:45 pm
Carl, i hope you don’t think i’m being ridiculous, but could you do me a favor and go over to L’s blog at untitledmoments dot com and tell her that she’s fabulous because she is. and your words are always so powerful, such a source of renewal, reckless bravery, beauty and strength.
#6 by Carl on February 29, 2012 - 9:42 pm
Thank you for your comment. I am following that blog and will enjoy. It looks like an interesting effort.
#7 by Carl D'Agostino on February 12, 2012 - 9:50 am
I’ll pass on that warm kick to the gut
#8 by Carl on February 29, 2012 - 9:42 pm
Those are the old days, huh?