Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Turn The Temperature Dial Down Low

Poetry By: Scribblings of a middle aged mad man
Poetry



Keep hold of your dreams.


Submitted:Apr 22, 2008    Reads: 117    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   


Crumbled they fall

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shattered cubes of aspiration

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Left to rest on a Texan highway

Tidy piles of ice await the days sun

Dreams facing evaporation

Ask you hear the distant voice demanding attention

"Refrigerate as much slush as possible

Precious still, is the formed water"

The sky is one big clock

A ticking enemy that threatens tomorrow

Clouds the shape of hands

Move to the direction of the wind

In pathetic shape and with the urgency of a desperate man

You scramble for safety, the heat of your closed hands a threat

With further direction from an internal voice

You deposit, what remains of your dreams

Into a tomb of cold, an opaque envelope of chill

Watching nervously, as the damage is revealed

With possibility intact, and adventure possible

You turn the temperature dial down low

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

As low, as it will go





2

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.