Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 22



Bummed

I accept change like coins slipped into a cup that sits beside me on the curb; never did it occur to me that I look in need of pity or alms from strangers; which is to say I don’t accept much these days, yet I do not fight it either. I keep my head down when I can no longer fend off the inevitable. I may not win control or compliance, might not remain strong enough to fight another day, but this too is a blessing somehow. A laying down of arms and money in my pocket makes the world a funny place to endure when I’m living in the tiny room in my head. What good news it would be if I learned to throw the windows open and let the day take me, though this time it’s G-d that needs to wear the ear muffs and lead me through the coldness of change. On my own I just walk further down the blind alleys and fold myself on this sidewalk in exhaustion. I don’t like the tea or the sympathy, but I don’t think I would mind if G-d took me in.






Alphabetize your expectations

*

HOLD CARD

My bottom pulled my hold card to the tabletop
I turned it over and found I have a bit of value
Each time I turned over my will
My value increased.

After many spins, the face cards appear
I’m the Jack, the Queen, the King
I revel in the times and practice it has taken to get here
I play my hand and take my chances

I have been privileged to pair with wonderful sober partners
Who turn themselves over and transform before my eyes
The years raise the anti
And I play close to my chest

The stakes are high
And if I turn in the wrong direction
I can be the Joker once again.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 23


Exposition


Is there a difference between being discerning and being critical? Is it in the direction from whence I came or the destination to which I am driven? Does performance to an audience, even if it is the one in my head, create the line of demarcation or is it all one big bowl of goo? Does putting too fine a point of everything pierce my serenity and prick my skin? Is it the grating unplanned nature of life that bothers me into commentary or is it my in born desire to dissection that pushes me? And where is there room for kindness, is it in my dissertation or could it be in my critique?






Bury ideas about nuts

*

THE MEAL

Home cooking is the key
I want to order in,
Have my life delivered to the door

The takeout menus entice me
From three courses on china
To burgers handed through sliding windows.

It all sounds good and I request all for take home
But this is not the way
I must light the flame and chop the veggies

I can’t have a life prepared by others
I can share recipes and suggestions
This is help not displacement

I can stand and cook with others
And together make a feast
I can not sit and wait to be served.

I stand at the range while the sauce simmers
And it comes clear
I am my own meal.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 24



More Better


When I take a break from my idyllic life, trading up to paradise, I balk at thoughts of returning to the simply marvelous day to day I have worked so hard to attain. Self accusation floods under the door, but I whimilate it with fact. My reluctance to turn my back on a good thing is an asset which many days keeps me sober. I greedily seize every improvement and hold on for dear life. If reflections of the past even held a glimmer for me I might worry; I turn from all but the highest good. I don’t regret the past but I shall never return to it.







Glance at the path you feel lead to

*

REALLY RAINING

Why do people ask if someone is really sober?
They’re checking for winners, I guess responded my sponsor
But what does that mean?

Well, when the clouds roll in
And the next thing you know it’s really raining
You can clearly discern the difference between that and just a shower

The commitment of water saturates the atmosphere
And rain is the undeniable certainty
That is what people are looking for
And they ask to discover if the person even comprehends the concept

What do they do if the person is really sober?
Stand next to them
And soak it all in.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 25



Coming Home to Work


I have arrived home to a beehive; everyone industrious, everyone filled with purpose, everything buzzing right along. My response to this of course is anger. I have a sting and I want to use it. I have a place it falls into yet I fear falling. The living world is now opened to me, but my destination had been death for so long that the prospect of diligence ignites steel blue fury. I divide my time between gratitude and rage. I want to accuse myself, rescue myself, then I remember everyone in this place has a buzz, a stripe and a stinger.







Hum in a foreign language

*


DESSERT

I have to be my own appetizer
I have to be the thing which entices and intrigues me
I must be the roughage, the salad full of color and variety
The entrée must be me, as well.

The things which sustain me
The meat of my life
I have to supply and swallow it down
I can be all this.

I run to the sweetness of others
But this cannot be my source of sustenance
The greater part of me
Needs to derive from me.

I can set the table
And fill it with the fullness of who I am
I am enough and others are dessert
Twinkies will never be sufficient, they can only be a treat.

[Soft*Silver]

A movie about the beginning of Al Anon is being shown on TV tonight..right now in fact!

[Lady Pamela]

Just a share...Something I was reading and I found nice to have all in the same place...Kind of a reminder all in the same page...smiles


AA Quotes and Slogans

easy does it
first things first
live and let live
but for the grace of god
think......think.......think
one day at time
let go and let god
kiss---keep it simple stupid
act as if.........
this too shall pass
expect miracles
I can't .........he can..........I think I'll let him (steps 1,2,3)
if it works.........don't fix it
keep coming back..........it works if you work it
stick with the winners
keep right size
sobriety is a journey ..........not a destination
faith without works is dead
poor me.....poor me............pour me another drink
to thine own self be true
I came; I came to; I came to believe (steps 1,2,3)
live in the NOW
if god seems far away, who moved ?
turn it over
aa=altered attitudes
nothing is so bad, a drink won't make it worse
we are only as sick as our secrets
there are no coincidences in AA
be part of the solution, not the problem
sponsors: have one-----use one-----be one
I can't handle it god; you take over
keep an open mind
it works -------it really does ! (page 88,line 8 in the big book)
willingness is the key
more will be revealed
you will intuitively know
you will be amazed
no pain.........no gain
go for it
keep the plug in the jug
do it sober
let it begin with me
just for today
sober `n` crazy
pass it on
it's in the book
you either is-------or you ain't
before you say: I can't ............say I'll try
don't quit 5 minutes before the miracle happens
some of us our sicker than others
we're all here because we're not all there
alcoholism is an equal opportunity destroyer
practice an attitude of gratitude
the road to sobriety is a simple journey for confused people with a complicated disease
another friend of bill W.'s
god is never late
have a good day unless of course u have made other plans
decisions aren't forever
it takes time
90 meetings in 90 days.........90/90
you are not alone
where you go .......there you are
don't drink, read the big book, and go to meetings
use the 24-hour plan
make use of the telephone therapy
stay sober for yourself
look for similarities rather than differences
remember your last drunk
remember that alcoholism is incurable, progressive, and fatal
try not place conditions on your sobriety
when all else fails, follow directions
count your blessings
share your happiness
respect the anonymity of others
share your pain
let go of old ideas
try to replace guilt with gratitude
what goes around, comes around
change is a process, not an event
take the cotton out of your ears and put it in your mouth
call your sponsor before, not after, you take the first drink
sick and tired of being sick and tired
it's the first drink that gets you drunk
to keep it, you have to give it away
man's extremity is god's opportunity
the price for serenity and sanity is self-sacrifice
one alcoholic talking to another...........one equals one
take what you can use and leave the rest
what if........
yeah but.........
if only.........
help is only a phone call away
around AA or in AA ?
you can't give away what you don't have
one drink is too many and thousand not enough
K.C.B. --- keep coming back
anger is but one letter away from danger
courage to change
easy does it, but do it
bring the body and the mind will follow
accept your admission
remember when............
dry and tighten up (financially)
we AAs are 'gifted' people
there are 12 steps in the ladder of complete sobriety
fear is the darkroom where negatives are developed
before engaging your mouth, put your mind in gear!
I want what I want when I want it
there is no chemical solution to a spiritual problem
AA is not something you join, it's a way of life
we can be positive that our drinking was negative
spirituality is the ability to get our minds off ourselves
faith is spelled ...............a-c-t-i-o-n
backsliding begins when knee-bending stops
if I think, I won't drink. if I drink, I can't think
bend your knees before you bend your elbow
the first step in overcoming mistakes is to admit them
formula for failure: try to please everyone
sorrow is looking back, worry is looking around
willpower= our willingness to use a higher power
aa is an education without graduation
when your head begins to swell your mind stops growing
a journey of a 1,000 miles begins with the first step
god=good orderly direction
be as enthusiastic about AA as you were about your drinking
you received without cost, now give without charge
humility is our acceptance of ourselves
trying to pray is praying
get it ---give it---grow in it
faith is not belief without proof but trust without reservation
we're responsible for the effort not the outcome
this is a selfish program
ego=edge god out
keep your sobriety first to make it last
I drank: too much---too often---too long
AA will work if you want it to work
minds are like parachutes----they won't work unless they're open
what you hear and see here, stays here
alcoholism is the only disease that tells you you're all right
if you turn it over and don't let go of it, you will be upside down.
an AA meeting is where losers get together to talk about their winnings
AA is a school in which we are all learners and all teachers
god taught us to laugh again but god please don't let us forget that we once cried
serenity is not freedom from the storm but peace amid the storm
AA may not solve all your problems but it is willing to share them
it isn't the load that weighs us down------it's the way we carry it
principles before personalities
when u do all the talking you only learn what you already know
the 7t's ---take time to think the thing through
there are none too dumb for the AA program but many are too smart
we all have another drunk left in us but we don't know if we have another recovery in us
to be forgiven we must forgive
when we surrender to our higher power, the journey begins
the person with the most sobriety at a meeting is the one who got up earliest that morning
knowledge of "the answers" never made anyone slip---it was failing to practice "the answers" known
H.A.L.T.=don't get too hungry(h).......or too angry(a)......or too lonely(l) ........or too tire(t)
fear stands for Frustration

Ego,
Anxiety,
Resentment

the 12 steps tell us how it works; the 12 traditions tell us why it works.........
AA won't ...........keep you from going to hell.............nor is it a ticket to heaven............but it will...........keep u sober long enough.........for you to make up your mind...............which way you want to go!
if faith without works is dead; then .........willingness without action is fantasy
when a person tries to control their drinking they have already lost control
the task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us
seven days without an aa meeting makes one WEAK
you are not required to like it, you're only required to DO IT
when wallowing in your self-pity ...... get off the cross we need the wood
we in AA don't carry the alcoholic; we carry the message
the results are in god's hand
we are not human beings having spiritual experiences; we are spiritual beings having human experiences
remember nothing is going to happen today that you and god can't handle
when man listens, god speaks; when man obeys, god works
don't watch the "slippers" but watch those who don't slip closely and watch them go through difficulties and pull through
the 3 t's of gratitude to repay AA for our sobriety: our time, our talent, our treasure

it's a pity we can't forget our troubles the same way we forget our blessings
be careful what you pray for; you're liable to get it
the time to attend a meeting is when you least feel like going
work the program from the waist up
AA is the highest priced club in the world.........if u have paid the dues, why not enjoy the benefits ?
the first step is the only step a person can work perfectly
the will of god will never take you where the grace of god will not protect you

your big book is your sponsor too
AA never opened the gates of heaven to let me in, AA did open the gates of hell to let me out

the only thing we take from this world when we leave is what we gave away
time wasted in getting even can never be used in getting ahead
some people are so successful in AA that they turn out to be almost as good as they used to think they were when they were drinking
sobriety delivers everything alcohol promised
possibilities and miracles are one in the same
get out of the driver's seat.......let go and let god
how==honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness
danger sign: when your eyes have wandered from the alcoholics who still suffers and needs help-----to the faults of those whom the program has already helped

first we stayed sober because we have to............
then we stay sober because we are willing to..........
finally we stay sober because we want to.............

slogans are wisdom written in shorthand
active alcoholics don't have relationships; they take hostages
everyday is a gift that is why we call it the present
if you find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere
every recovery from alcoholism began with one sober hour
each and every alcoholic----sober or not----teaches us some valuable lessons about ourselves and recovery
we had to quit playing god
don't compare---identify
don't intellectualize----utilize
RULE 62----don't take yourself so damn seriously!!!!!!!
AA has a wrench to fit every nut that walks through a meeting room door
living in the here and now
how does one become an "old-timer" ? don't drink and don't die!
AA spoils your drinking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
faith is our greatest gift; its sharing with others our greatest responsibility
if you want to drink-----that is your business
if you want to quit-------that is AA's business
in a bar, we got sympathy-----as long as our money lasted.
in AA, we get understanding------for nothing!
even my worst day in sobriety is better than my best day drunk
the elevator is broken-------use the steps
let it begin with me
when all else fails.........the directions are in the big book
trust god.........clean house........help others
anonymity is so important it's half of our name
if we don't grow, we gotta go
all you need to start your own AA meeting is a resentment and a coffee pot!!
religion is for those who fear god.........spirituality is for those who have been to hell and back
there are no atheists in foxholes

three suggestions for making an AA speech:
1).BE INTERESTING
2).BE BRIEF
3).BE SEATED

when you are a sponsor, you get out of yourself. if i serve, i will be served
why recovery never ends: the disease is alcoholISM, not alcoholWASM!
the AA way of life is meant to be bread for daily use, not cake for special occasions
the smartest thing an AA member can say is, " help me "
you are exactly where god wants you to be
god will never give you more than you can handle
slow but sure
in AA we say a "coincidence" is a miracle in which god chooses to remain anonymous
it takes the good and bad AA meeting----the good and bad AA talk -----to make this fellowship "work"
give time .......time
faith is a lighted doorway, but trust is a dark hall
the lesson I must learn is simply that my control is limited to my own behavior, my own attitudes
the AA paradoxes:
---from weakness(adversity) comes strength
---we forgive to be forgiven
---we give it away to keep it
---we suffer to get well
---we surrender to win
---we die to live
---from darkness comes light
---from dependence we found independence

AA works for people who believe in god
AA works for people who don't believe in god
AA NEVER works for people who believe they ARE god
just for today I will try to live through this day only, and not tackle my whole life problems at once. I can do something for 12 hours that would appall me if i felt that i had to keep it up for a LIFETIME
there are two days in every week which we have no control over----yesterday and tomorrow. today is the only day we can change.
it is not the experience if today that drives people mad----it is the remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday and the dread of what tomorrow may bring.
slippers in AA use the rdp---revolving door policy
pain is the touchstone of spiritual growth
god has no grand kids
there is a god and I am not it
the road to disappointment (resentment) is paved with expectation
be nice to newcomers .........one day they may be your sponsor
denial is not a river in Egypt !
guilt is the gift that keeps on giving
the flip side to forgiveness is resentments
there is no magic in recovery only miracles
fear is the absences of faith
courage is faith that has said its prayers
depression is anger toward inward
alcoholics heal from the outside in.........but feel from the inside out
3 A's in AA-----affection (thoughtfulness)
-----attention (listening)
-----appreciation (gratitude)

if it is meant to be...........I can't stop it
if it isn't god's will ............I can't make it happen

there are AA members who MAKE things happen
there are AA members who WATCH things happen
there are AA members who DON'T KNOW anything happen
WHICH ARE YOU ??????

[Soft*Silver]

wow...thank you for that list!!!!

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 26


Imperturbable



Perfectionism is a cover, a blanket of lead; hard to move and rich with poison. What it tries to hide is my unwillingness to struggle and strive. It’s not a fear of failure, but the horror of success after a long hot pursuit. If I can stall on the intricacies of the first move there is no further movement. If I can fail before I begin there is no sweat, no stain, no stink. Catastrophe is no bother, but skinned knees are my undoing. Winning is not so important to me; my unfortunate goal is to look untroubled.





Snap a picture of your beliefs


*


TRANSITIONS

During the months of winter
The trees stand tall and leafless
Static in their appearance, frozen in direction

The insurgence of spring brings to life the truth
The buds and flowers show the draw of the their owners
The pull of life from the earth and sky.

Other trees have begun to restore the gifts so graciously given
These leafless giants open themselves
As home and sustenance to the surrounding community

Returning favors and flavors, coming to terms with wholeness
Celebrations of all I have, call for me to give back
Even during the time when we all look the same.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 27


Blinded


Alcoholism hits me like a kind of blindness. I stagger through the living room cursing anyone who changes familiar placement or published timetables. Like every aspect of this disease shocked sightlessness is mine to deal with. I must pick up the white cane, procure the Seeing Eye pup, learn to read clustered braille. When my vision clears in these well worked spaces I am relieved, but I must accept that when I walk into a new room more often then not I will be blind again and must pick up my walking stick once more.




Apply a timeframe to misery


*

STREET SIGNS

Hanging out on the corner of Disillusion Boulevard and Grief Road
Then returning to that special spot on Despair Avenue
Was my daily routine.

I made the circle and never looked far afield
Widening my circuit
Allowed me to find Anticipation Place and Hopeful Terrace

I pushed my search and found roads
Whose existence I never fathomed intersected
Creating areas of intrigue

Optimism Court interfacing with Realization Way
Is the fairest of my finds
But many a fine street corner has me lurking

Catching stray sunshine and encouragement
I make my home wherever the hospitality is available
And return less often to the dark and stifling places of the past

Happiness is where you find it
Just make sure to read the signs.

[Tommi]

Wandering down that happy road of destiny, seems like the street signs are flourescent at times, and at others they are jsut burned out and dark. I miss many things on the road, and take time to park at the roadstops and just be. Be in the moment. Be here. Be me. Me on the happy road meeting others that are just there.

For today, I crank the engine, and merge into traffic watching my blindside.

Tommi

[LeftWriteFemme]

Wandering down that happy road of destiny, seems like the street signs are flourescent at times, and at others they are jsut burned out and dark. I miss many things on the road, and take time to park at the roadstops and just be. Be in the moment. Be here. Be me. Me on the happy road meeting others that are just there.

For today, I crank the engine, and merge into traffic watching my blindside.

Tommi

You are so very clever! Thank you for everything, for your love and concideration and thank you for reading!

All my love,

the girl

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 28




Perkiomenville

Being actually alive does not feel as good as I imagined the relief of being dead would feel and therefore I have anxiety and dread, or is it disappointment. I feel like a failure when I am in the process of trying and I want to throw the pieces in the air and run. Does this mean I’m weak or does it mean I am frightened? Or is there some heavenly host of other reasons why my crêpe paper soul twists and turns in the breeze of the marketplace? Some part of me was auctioned off and its removal left a psychic scar that even equanimity can not ease. I am all things wonderful and yet there is this flaw, this toe tied thread which holds me back, holds me down with painful accurate precision. I look for the knife with which to cut it all the while wondering if this will turn it into a toe tag or a price tag.








Police your self destruction
*






K-TURNS

I do not believe in a universe that makes complete sense
I often find myself trapped
Because the things I pull into no longer feel firm.

I attempt K-turns in alleys far too narrow for the maneuver
I can’t back myself through the passages I plunged into willingly
My faith doesn’t compute in reverse and I find this disconcerting

I may walk into the face of fire
But find it impossible to turn my back on the flame
Today a one-way faith is fine
As long as I am moving forward.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 29




Would You Rather a Lamp?

I am a girl filled with expectations. Like a ginger jar filled, stuffed caulker block full, though the filling is the part which is unpredictable; it could be match books, or seashells, acorns or all those pretty capsules. This makes me erratic and sometimes volatile. Are you strong enough or far too sane to stay and help me sort the contents? It’s lonely work without a witness or a spotter. I rather be alone than with you reluctantly, so please try to shuck that husk and remain. Yes, I am sometimes capricious, but I try never to be cruel. I know sometimes you convince yourself that leaving me to my own devices is the wisest of courses, but don’t be fooled; you disappear due to your weakness not strength and the worst part about the price of abandonment is that everyone has to pay it.





Design a window that looks out on your dreams


*



THE SHINY THING

The starling stands with the candy wrapper in its beak
The cellophane flexes in the breeze
Here is my life

I have the shiny thing in my possession , What do I do?
Do I give up my intended tasks to attempt dominance
Or control of the shiny thing?

Do I release this thing of intrigue and beauty
I am drawn to the shimerance and sparkle
But shutter at the price

The world is filled with shiny things
I can enjoy them
But leave them where they lay.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 30



Jane Street

The space between wanting to live and not wanting to hurt is the alley in which I live. This lane is not as narrow as you might think, in some places there is room for parking on one side. Since I reside here more often than not I have filled it with many of the appliances, which allow me to pretend at life. It doesn’t afford a truly clean or cheerful locale, but there are laughs, sometimes flowers in the spring. Finding my way out of this is tricky. When unlocked I find these are backdoors to commerce and though better than being sold wholesale, retail is not what I was hoping to find as I wrest myself from a confined existence. I have heard of those who drive through plate glass ignoring the structure. I think this is less workable from the back. What is left when I can’t bully or climb? I guess I will have to throw my hands up and pray.






Acknowledge a myth about yourself



*

ROLES

You don’t have to give up playing God
Because it was a bad thing to do.
You have to give it up because it doesn’t work
Said my sponsor in her most gentle voice.

In a world seemingly spinning out of control
You, brave child, stepped up to the plate and took a swing
That is heroic not demonic
But impractical nevertheless

You have to be your own full-time job
Even when it feels like there are other jobs left unfilled
You don’t have to run around finding the feet
To fill those empty shoes

Maybe those empty shoes are just bait for a bad trap
Keep on your journey and you will come to a place where the work
Is being accomplished by a surprising cast of characters
You will be free to stick to the role ahead of you.

[Tommi]

Acknowledge a myth about yourself

I could not fly when high, dry or drunk. In spite of my earthly attempts, my red cape, head to toe leathers, I did feel the pain I cause/d.

:supermanbooth:

[LeftWriteFemme]

Acknowledge a myth about yourself

I could not fly when high, dry or drunk. In spite of my earthly attempts, my red cape, head to toe leathers, I did feel the pain I cause/d.

:supermanbooth:

Not to worry you have so many other talents flying is not necessary! :cherry:

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 1





Terry Bradshaw

When someone wants to take the easy way out I condemn them for wanting ease and fail to register that they want out. I hear a whine when in fact it’s a cry. A challenge is rarely passed up by the able bodied, but must be foregone by the injured. Carried from the field is no personal victory, not a goal for sure. When I would rather watch than play I need to check for wounds not inflict them. It is not natural for me to sit in the stands, but accusation is never the way to get me on the field. Suit up when I’m whole and hide when I’m not. Absence is a fallback position for the fallen; I have to help myself to get back up.







Recognize friends as art


*

PIGS

Talking to a chrysalis about flight
Is like talking to a fetus about dry land.
Descriptions of future events
And possibility are lost in the translation.

To the uninitiated these realities sound like gibberish
And flight of fancy or foolish dogma
Yet I am drawn to talk of these things
Imagine and describe them.

I am changed by this procedure
I am transformed in the details
When I can accurately depict it
I am taking the stride into living it

I am my own pig
I have taught myself to sing
And have wasted no time at all.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 2



Reguess

When in my sarcasm I suggested that you ‘guess again’, I realized that you were in fact guessing, guessing about everything, guessing in order to create a process of elimination, a tool on which I now recognize you entirely depend. Guessing as a way of life is a tragedy. I’m not saying that trying to know every last thing in the world is an acceptable alternate goal, but to reach an adult age and not even be able to work your way up to a possible hunch is scary, scarier than even my sarcasm, which at this moment seems interminable, but I’m sure you guessed that.







Make a list of your favorite fingers



*

ON COMING

Anticipation of the approaching traffic consumes.
The tiny spec grows and develops into the arriving vehicle
50 miles per and the rapid succession of the coming
And those leaving eats quickly at my heart.

The pain seers me
Why are these who travel from the direction of my destination
Passing me by?
For miles and miles they appear to be greeters

The breeze created by their passing chaps my face
And questions my goals
How can so many abandon my objective?
But flee they do.

My hunger does not diminish
And I press on
Of course if we all went this way, we might tip the globe
Maybe that’s what they fear.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 3

Van and I
(Happy cleaning windows)



When the fog clears and I still can’t see, I check my optics and wash my windows. The mundane upkeep hones my pursuit. After the weather and housekeeping concerns are managed, eye exercises are next on the agenda. I have to strengthen my equipment, stay fit or fall prey to vagaries of nearsighted limits or farsighted failings. Myopia is an ever presence danger I must guard against as well. A fixed focus is a death trap. I must learn to track a moving target while I wend onward. Nothing in life is stationary; concentration and a decent line of sight are priceless rudiments. Continual practice with the tools and tactics build my confidence and sharpen wit. Burdens are lightened when I see my goal in stark relief; I can chart my path and make my way. Sobriety means if I can see it I can believe it, so I best go get the Windex.



Lock your doors when you need to, open windows when you can


*

MY SOBER HEART

The heart I have today
Is not the heart I have had all my life
Cells age and are replaced

I slough off what I can no longer use
And rejuvenate with fresh layers
My sobriety is the same.

Past step work is revamped and approached in innovative ways
Yesterdays prayers are replaced with today’s
Today’s meditations will be dispelled by tomorrows

The function remains the same but it is constructed with brand-new work
Service I render is always for my sobriety
But I work to strengthen various quadrants

My heart is not as young as it used to be
And vigorous action remakes it new each day
I rebuild my sober heart continually because forever and today
I have the mind of an alcoholic.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 4



The Wake Up Call


I wake early and watch the lazy rain fall in slow fat random drops. I view it with silent awe, only part of my recently somnolent mind bewildered. Dawn advances toward me and I register a new concept: snow, it is snow; the sky had been, too dark to allow me to see the white, all I could comprehend was the fall. The lighter the sky becomes the more the precipitation behaves like snowfall. I muse this to my sponsor and she laughed, “Well, we all misname things in the dark, Sweetie, lighten up and give yourself a break.”







Look for the secrets you keep from yourself

*

QUEEN’S COUNTENANCE

I know the 7 P’s of preparation
I set the table for those I know
The unexpected arrive clothed in time and tradition

They seat themselves at the table with the naked
They become mute
We prattle and pose
Rarely glimpsing the goals sitting at the unset seats

What we need to become
Is far from what we are
I can not even call it other

It is within when we make room
And ether when we won’t
I can wait and try
But the juice is deep with the pulp

I get myself in line for the future
And wait for the clothes offered by my guests
I sit the emperor and rise the queen

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 5


With and Without


With my sponsor- Without my drinking buddies

With my Big Book- Without my contrived dogma

With my home group- Without my dysfunctional family

With my step work- Without my mental masturbation

With my sobriety- Without my insanity

With all this I can live Without all that




Appreciate the strength of your neck


*

THE LONG VIEW

The long view requires an enduring embrace of the past
It requires a great love of people
The race and individuals

I cannot see what we do and flee
I can own what happened, what happens and what is to come
If only so I can ratchet improvement into my own behavior

I can see and feel change, cringe if I must, but go on
The horizon is there to set the stage
It hangs long and low

It stands guard for the life there is to live
I will view it
And use it as my gauge

Keeping perspective is the key
I know it for what it is
And that makes me,----me

The short sight and the long view
My open arms hold it all
My sight brings it all into my heart.

[Tommi]

I saw a glimmer of hope on the horizon and drove toward it.

As the journey took me hill and dale, my strength grew.

Darkness fell and I rested till daybreak. I stayed focused.

Low and behold miracles happened as my excursion took me many places..

Hope is always there as I know the horizon is a constant.



5/5/2010

[LeftWriteFemme]

I saw a glimmer of hope on the horizon and drove toward it.

As the journey took me hill and dale, my strength grew.

Darkness fell and I rested till daybreak. I stayed focused.

Low and behold miracles happened as my excursion took me many places..

Hope is always there as I know the horizon is a constant.



5/5/2010


Daddy, thank you! This is beautiful!! love, the girl

[cinderella]

Came on this thread out of curiosity, and am leaving it in awe. I have never in my life written a fan letter...this will be my first, and I'm glad I saved my unabashed accolades and hosanas 'til now.

Sherrie, you have made me smile, touched my heart, and made me cry tears of admiration at the beauty of your words. Your writing is unbelievably inspiring and beautiful. I repeat myself, but I am in such awe of the way you fire my imagination and reach my soul. You are a living poet and writer. I was entralled reading your daily posts, but was thrilled to read the beauty of December 13 - my birthday. A belated but wonderous gift - unbeknowst to you, but a gift nonetheless. Thank you, thank you, for the beauty of your writing. If you haven't been published, you should be. If you have, I want to buy your work - second best to knowing you in person.

Many blessings and strength on your journey. I thank God for you. Now, I return to your writing. I am up to December 17...

[LeftWriteFemme]

Cinderella,

I am so honored by your words. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my posts. I am so gratified that you like them. Yes, these writings are available in book form. What you are reading in the December posts is titled Sober on the Way to Sane As of January 1 you will find a combination of a page from More Sober on the Way to Sane and a page from Lines From My Life all of these can be purchased. If you click on the raincoated guy in my signiture it will take you to my website and if once there you click on the books section you will see many of my books or you can go to amazon to purchase them, just type Sherrie T. or Sherrie Theriault into the search box on their website that should take you to most of the books. If you would like to see my erotica book that can be found by clicking on the pom pom waving girl in my signiture. Thank you for your support and encouragement. I hope you enjoy all that you read!

Very truly,

Sherrie

[cinderella]

You *have* been published! I knew it! A talent like yours could not be overlooked!!

Yes, I would love to, and will, examine your books. I will probably end up buying every one...as for the erotic stuff, being the prude that I am, I think I will pass on those, but I can't wait to read the others.

Again, thank you for sharing your gifts with the world. It's people like you that make life worth while.



Cinderella,
I am so honored by your words. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my posts. I am so gratified that you like them. Yes, these writings are available in book form. What you are reading in the December posts is titled Sober on the Way to Sane As of January 1 you will find a combination of a page from More Sober on the Way to Sane and a page from Lines From My Life all of these can be purchased. If you click on the raincoated guy in my signiture it will take you to my website and if once there you click on the books section you will see many of my books or you can go to amazon to purchase them, just type Sherrie T. or Sherrie Theriault into the search box on their website that should take you to most of the books. If you would like to see my erotica book that can be found by clicking on the pom pom waving girl in my signiture. Thank you for your support and encouragement. I hope you enjoy all that you read!

Very truly,

Sherrie

[Tommi]

Daddy, thank you! This is beautiful!! love, the girl

Thanks babyluv.

PS>.Wouldn't expect you to be hooked up with someone who can't swim upstream, or couldn't catch a dangling participle.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 6


Yield Don’t Stop


If I let amazement stop my progress I will become landlocked instead of becoming free. Picture wagon wheels planted in Kansas when the destination had been California. Yes, the plains are great, but if that was not my aim it is a far cry from heaven. Arriving at any haven is tempting; when it crosses to captivating then to captivation, here is where the problem lay. Steps six and seven changed me and this is good. If I allow this to halt me this is disaster. If the wheels fall off the wagon I walk. If I grow too tired to walk I pant with my friends and we carry each other, we don’t stop.







Pickle the pretty fruit from your labors

*


BRATZLOV

If all the world is a narrow bridge,
I must broaden my mind.
If all the doors are closed to the passage of a hallway,
I must exit through the window.

Never again can I stay and shelter
In a small and confining refuge
A womb is a place to come out
It is never a place of return.

I am not to seek overexposure
But I must ever widen the gate
The brave face I show is the gift of a tight world
Owning me for far too long.

Fear is never meant to be larger than life
And the world should never collapse
Around the sweetness of a smile

Today carries us.
Tomorrow draw us.
The world is a bridge.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 7


Pinocchio as a Girl



I should be painting today instead of reframing the future, an unnecessary and ephemeral job at best. Kind of like lassoing an unborn colt, I try to put a rope around something that cannot get away. Outcome hasn’t much to do with foregone conclusion and wouldn’t I be better mixing colors and wetting brushes than cutting slices from a pie in the sky? But tomorrow seems more spacious than this crowded present and I con myself into believing this is a harmless trip to the fair. I lose my light, my thought, my sight with these thieving sojourns; leaving me to creak around because all that is left is wood.






Nothing gets in the way of something


*

MAIL

I form my query
Fold my mind
And mail it off to God
With a stamp of approval from my sponsor

The questions sent are of no great interest
But the responses are a spellbinding group
What is returned unopened
Is a wide array

The circuitous route taken by some
Is a charm of elucidation
I rub my finger over the intact seals
And marvel at the travels of the wax

I mourn over the defunct gods
And their public relations organizations
Slow is my resolve to pour over the replies
I get easily caught in lackings and shy from true contact

The equations embedded in my heart read the letters
And sing the notes, these songs are just for me
I know them like my name
I turn the envelope and see how old the postmark is

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 8



A Good Ship



Recently my life has taken on a surreal quality. I stand in front of myself as if I were a business to be run or a project to be undertaken. The intensity, uncertainty and drama seem to be on the wane. There are choices to be made and outcomes to be determined, but this is all work and numbers, nothing at risk below the skin. My heart is secure, true love its protector, faith its inborn light. I am docked in safety harbor; the waves may rock me, but my anchor holds me fast.







Follow your lead

*

ALL- BETTER NOW

Mother kissed the booboo
And I wait for the admonition to take effect
Waiting, I count the problems
Like telephone poles on a long journey

What will it be like
The world all- better?
The anticipation nearly breaks me for awhile
Until waiting turns to disbelief.

A chill fills the space
And all- better becomes the cry
My sponsor calls for moderation
And lowering my expectation

The child’s ears ring with the promise to be fulfilled
She cannot give herself over to a world
Where band -aids are not a cure-all
But only a cover for the slow work of internal healing, scars and all.

Sheer survival is not sufficient for the screaming toddler
Heartbreak from injustice calls for more than endurance
But alas, a kiss is all we have.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 9


The Little Black Dress


The holes in my pockets cause me to feel naked. Though it is an inside pocket and no one can see through I feel exposed, my thinking changed and for that matter chained, one link looped through the next. I start with a hole in my pocket so I know I can’t stay in this dress all day. I know I will need the storage later as time wears on but I can’t change now and I don’t want to waste time putting on my tights. My legs are cold. I fly from room to room. I gather my keys, but forget my phone. I am bare legged and unreachable, overexposed due to a hole in my pocket.








Keep in mind that love doesn’t conform to opinion, even well meaning opinion


*

SLAYING OLD DRAGONS

Your roar is Doppler-low
And I can feel my steps move the earth
As I go forward.

Former dominator
Scary from every angle
I come for you today

The scales are falling, I don’t rip them but they fall
I can breathe at the heights of you lair
I am not shrinking

The booming voice you had is gone
The power spilling away from you
I don’t fly from you

Gone is the tremble you once instilled
The curtain has parted
And you are revealed

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 10


More Than a Fedora



I have no explanations only expletives, I wish I had something to say that you wished to hear, but that is not current events; foul humored broadcasts are what fill the air this day. Bad temper is tempting, but I can no longer be satisfied in this way nor is this a performance that you care to witness. I will play FCC to my ruminations curtailing this colorful darkness for my benefit and the clearing of the air. I have never shied from dramatic vocabulary and I do not now, but throwing out words is waste and I am learning to conserve. I don’t have to leak my power I can cover my head and close my mouth.









Know what you are holding on to

*

URBAN LANDSCAPE

I am taking this giraffe to the penthouse,
Do you suggest the elevator or the stairs?
Why do you chose these complicated tasks
To fill your days asked my sponsor?

You think this is beyond my abilities?
I didn’t say that, I do believe either you or the giraffe
Are likely to get bent out of shape
But that is the most obvious of observations

What if I told you being disproportionate
Is both of our natural states, I asked?
I know that too, my darling little lamb.

You may be a contrast to the multitude
But why make it harder?
Why not a ranch with a cathedral ceiling
Bay doors even?

You are taking out the spirit of adventure, I say
Baby, you may have confused frustration
With excitement, says my sponsor
Yes, but you have forgotten the view.

[Tommi]

:goodscore:

Here's to those that are hanging on by a fingernail.

Here's to those with toes that still wiggle, can giggle, and love like there is no tomorrow
( and posts Just For Today, everyday)

Here's to those who know.

Here's to those that live long enough to have a miracle.

:goodscore:

[LeftWriteFemme]

:goodscore:

Here's to those that are hanging on by a fingernail.

Here's to those with toes that still wiggle, can giggle, and love like there is no tomorrow
( and posts Just For Today, everyday)

Here's to those who know.

Here's to those that live long enough to have a miracle.

:goodscore:

What a nice warm surprise you are on this cold spring morning. Yes, I am living the miracle and thanks to your love and support I am living the dream!

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 11



Out Standing in My Field



Trying to remove expectations is like trying to unseed a field; it is damn near impossible until something crops up, though when it does I must act swiftly lest things take root. Tedious as it is weeding the fields of unreasonable expectancy saves me from so much frustration later on. I don’t recognize it, but expectations are like little dictators forever ruling me leaving no room for G-d or direction, not to mention flexibility or change. Tap roots dive for the vein and my life depends on fleet elimination of unsuitable desire. I can want. I can strive. I can not leave expectations to grow in my garden.





Screen your comments when you can


*

STRETCHING

Stretching is not equivalent to change
Limbering is nice
And warms the muscles, body and soul.

Over-reaching, over-compensation is trauma
It distorts the symmetry
And breeds erroneous thinking.

Extension beyond the bounds sets me up for a fall
I misinterpret touching with finger tips
With a firm and able grasp.

I don’t step forward because I believe
I have a hand on things
Failing to see how this is different from an embrace.

The sinew tears
And the fabric of life is destroyed
I lean forward but I go nowhere.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 12



Box-a-week Tao


I am going through so many changes surrounding the cleaning out and getting rid of process. The flat sided panic that I experience while even attempting the smallest disposal seems impossible. I would deny it if I didn't have the repetition of this experiment to prove it as fact. I have now moved into the part of the illness where I compulsively clean the things that I have emptied in order to avoid facing the next step, the next box, the next mess. This is a two part trap: part 1. If cleaning can absorb all the time I will not be able to do anything else. Part 2. If I can't keep it clean enough then I have an excuse to give up and not empty the next space. I am trying to keep moving without being mean to myself. Because mean is worse than mess.







Try not to lose things you never had


*

CHOICE

Growth is my decision
I don’t need conflict or catastrophe to bring me to change
I choose each day, come what may, to roll out the refuse
I am not tempted to leave it in to rot just because the sun is shining

Good days are good times to improve
How could integrity be retarded by joy?
I am not punished into recovery

I will never accept a Higher Power who set up a system like that
And give wide birth to people who claim their Higher Power did
My bottom may have been an inducement to start
But choice keeps me coming back.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 13




Be That Girl


I have tried to protect the investment I made in the past by selling the soul of my future. I arrived self-possessed, a winning girl, but I slid the self from the scene leaving me simply possessed. I gained everything then lost it a piece at a time starting with the parts nearest my heart. I must draw the shards together once more and mend this lovely crystal. The art of living is insured by my action not by grasping at slivers in terror of what slips from my fingers. I am what I have inviolate and all else comes to fruition when I am pleased; when I am myself.







Be aware which pens are poison


*

SOOT

I diligently work to remove the soot.
The residue from the last time I tried to hot wire my brain
When I attempted the short circuit of my safety-thinking
I caught my life on fire and flames, though brief, were spectacular.

Electric fires are very jarring
The burning insulation toxic
It leaves bare, stuttering lines crossing and recrossing

My stable base, the methods I once used to keep sane, is shot
All because I wanted to go joyriding in my thoughts
Suspended reality sounds so good but always burst into flame
Leaving me with soot removal as a hobby

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 14



No Stone Left Behind



An anchor attaches at the lower extremities stabilizing me, an albatross is the thing weighing me down from the top, it tips me, throws me to the ground. I must remember to choose ferrous instruments over long necked birds. Often it’s not the amount of drag, but where it’s affixed. There are so many variables, so much to think through, yet I often react and pick up what seems as harmless as a flock of sea gulls and turns out to be worse than an iron maiden. Leaving no tern unstoned is bad, but do I really have the time to do it the other way around?





Visualize the vapor trails from your words as they fly away from you


*

CLOCKS

When the clock stops
I wind it up or replace the battery
I have to-----time doesn’t end
Because the arms grow slow.

The device wears down
But the day is not over
Even if my internal metronome is bollixed
The planets keep revolving.

I can’t step off the world
It doesn’t stop turning for me
I don’t always have to keep my head up
But I must always go on.

There is no going back
I can only remember yesterday
I can’t return to it though it’s so close
The flowers are still fresh.

Sometimes I struggle
To keep my hands off the past
Those are the days I secure my future
And wind the clocks

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 15



Madame Alexander




I am, too naïve; if you show me kindness I will believe you, follow you, obey you, so, I have rules. These rules do not protect me, but they do make a box for me to seal myself inside. Where I will ship myself, stack myself; hide myself so well, that even I do not know. I pull the flaps down and pray not to have to make any real decisions. I fold my arms and close my mind believing I could never adequately open it enough to safely live in the world outside of this closet. Here I sit wondering what to write on this label in order to be left alone all the while longing for true love, a thing never given to a quivering china doll shut up in a carton at the bottom of a wardrobe.






Make a suggestion box for your heart


*


CELEBRATIONS

You wore a wrist corsage to the dump?
You said to celebrate every activity
I retorted to my sponsor
Yes, by doing them with purpose.

Not everything needs to be a production number
Sometimes just showing up is enough
Putting to much energy into preparation
Can leave you without resources

It’s okay to make an appearance
Do the simple act and move on
That is a celebration in its own way
Don’t squander your vitality on the mundane.

Do you know what I mean, asks my sponsor?
Don’t waste flowers on trash heaps, I answer
Yes, and don’t wipe your bottom with poetry
I mention this in case you get any ideas!

[Tommi]

May 11
Out Standing in My Field

Trying to remove expectations is like trying to unseed a field; it is damn near impossible until something crops up, though when it does I must act swiftly lest things take root. Tedious as it is weeding the fields of unreasonable expectancy saves me from so much frustration later on. I don’t recognize it, but expectations are like little dictators forever ruling me leaving no room for G-d or direction, not to mention flexibility or change. Tap roots dive for the vein and my life depends on fleet elimination of unsuitable desire. I can want. I can strive. I can not leave expectations to grow in my garden.

.

Fields from the west* Good morning.

Meeting @ the BFPlanet tonight?...
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4247247996_1e8e30777f.jpg

[LeftWriteFemme]

Meeting @ the BFPlanet tonight?...



If I can remember to show up for it.......I don't know why I have been off the page with this, I apologise to anyone who came looking for a meeting and didn't find it!

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 16


Life Events in Burlap




Two left feet in a gunnysack allows no forward motion and creates only a windmill that screws us into the ground. There is more perspective, front and back, more view, but nothing to do with it, nowhere to go. We are better off as book ends than this awkward foolish pairing. You go your way and I go mine works fine if we are cut lose, if any one person can be free of any other. You offer to change your perspective if I change mine. I smile, almost laugh at the idea of two right feet in a gunnysack and no improvement in sight. This is not grade school, not field day, I must turn to you or you to me and nothing else, no fair is fair, no turn taking. Because my past is not your future and your future is not my past. Face forward on both accounts and then we run the race.




Allow your imagination to put on a slideshow for your resistance

*

THREE ROOSTERS

The three roosters came to the meeting
To hear themselves crow.
The membership purely spectators
In the longest, lowest, loudest sobriety competition.

Those of us in the fray, we are like picked-on puppies
Who learn slowly not to put our heads up
To spare our eyes and hearts.

The same noise comes repeatedly
Suspicion is never aroused
The heads nod at all the right places
Orchestrated for ego and nothing else.

The meeting is closed with a momentary prayer
For the still suffering, in and out of the room
I pray that will be enough.

[Tommi]

If I can remember to show up for it.......I don't know why I have been off the page with this, I apologise to anyone who came looking for a meeting and didn't find it!

So, tonight at 6:00. See ya'all here.
:byebye:
Tommi

PS..How does that work again?

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 17


Underoos



Why is it that I store undies I never wear in my panty drawer and leave no room for my favorites? Why is it that I have things in cupboards that have not seen the light of day in years, but they are kept as sacred? I don’t use my storage for me it is saved for obligation to inherited obsession. I live on the fringes of the only life I have; I didn’t question this, didn’t see it for what it really is. I don’t live in my skin only my head. I don’t enjoy today only plan for tomorrow. After years at this address it is time for me to move in. The mortgage is more than paid; it is time to spend my inheritance.






Be kind when you win; be kind when you lose


*

PIROUETTES

I turn and spin, the world flashes as I go.
I am erect, proud of my self-possession.
I can stand the forces of vector rotation
Public opinion and gravity.

Sobriety has made a dancer out of me.
I sprint the stage and take my place.
I know the moves and trust, as best I can
The choreographer and choreography

I feel the wind move on my body as I revolve
The blur of existence spreads out before me
I can let it pass

To spot myself and keep my upright posture
The only place that requires my clear and unobstructed view
Is the line of sight from my sponsors eyes to mine.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 18



Pearly Whites

Reaction is a separation, a polarization; it cuts you from me and God from we. Response is a connection, an inclusion; threading a line from you to me and stitching G-d into our pockets. I realize now that any positive connection is an instantaneous link to my Higher Power and can’t help but bring us closer. Tiny feet carry beauty and kindness; tiny teeth tear the fabric of the world to bits. I must let my footwork conduct my life’s work and seal my lips and reserve the dentistry.





If you take the cake don’t take it far



*

DRIVEWAY TIME

Layer after layer of blue stack the sky
The moon risen and the sun dipping away
I wait for the twin lights, the constellation of headlights
My ride to the meeting.

It will be the entry vehicle to a world of population
Leaving behind the galaxy of me, the single star
I stand silent and the feeling of fellowship carries the miles

Laughter flies the winds of memory
And all the old jokes of truth and tribute are fresh
And abide with me until the car arrives
And we make it all new again.

[Tommi]

Reminder for anyone out there. There is a Friends of Bill meeting Sunday. Select the right Chat Room and password, and join in. We had a short one last week.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 19


Who Rang?




Examine the instillation of your buttons as a process of discovery for disabling them. Pay attention to the wiring but also to the hardware. Sometimes the advertising is the thing which keeps alive something better off put to rest. Many things are rooted in other pots and have a lifeline from outside of the current host. All the connections and housing should be explored as well as what work the mechanism does once pressed. Is there a gong, tinkling bells? Does it release the wolves from their den or tiger from his lair? Information is a tool which never fails to help me in disassembling the traps and their triggers I must not shy from the gathering.






If you reframe the past don’t crop reality


*

NETWORKS

Testing my sponsor when I’m hurt
Is like probing for gas with a lit cigar in my mouth
If I can’t find a way to douse the cheroot before posing my questions
It’s guaranteed I will get an explosive response

I need a network
They follow me with sand
Snatch from me my burning pacifier
And save me from sticking my smoldering end where it doesn’t belong

We all need a little excitement in our lives
But don’t have to become an incendiary device to fill the need
I forget that boring isn’t the same as death
It just feels that way

Some days distance prevents disaster
A good support system carries me away
To face it on another day.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 20



Martinizing


The price of upkeep scares me, it daunts me even. I pay the initial cost, I have bitten that bullet of required outlay; the continued charges for maintenance push my face in the mud until my ears clog. Avoiding the need of perpetual responsibility to things, relationships, life, doesn’t change the reality; rather it embeds in my skin a slick denial and an indignant retort to the drycleaners and shoe-shiners of the world. Waste and want play tag inside a misunderstanding of what is required of me; of what life requires in general. I must make quietude, draw a map and find my way to this psychic change; unfortunately all the little voices scream “Yes, you paid the price to see the show, but you don’t make enough to stay!”






Check your mileage so you know how far you’ve come


*

POWER

When power arrives
It comes complete with a blindfold
Mask and lullaby

I am blinded to what effect I have
Others can not see me
Only the unchanging masquerade covering my face

All my fears and apprehensions are soothed
By the melody singing in my ear
I am possessed

The hard thump of the bottom reaching up to get me
Is my sole hope of release
I can’t reason my way back from a trip with power

The isolation is too far reaching
My senses numbed
My thinking biased

Salvation as a cold smack is the jolt required
Fire takes fire
Power takes the same

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 21



NaCl


I work arithmetic instead of telling you to stop. I make a light remark, never take a stand until I have worked the numbers and believe that the weight of suffering is on my side. I store in the cellar the salt I found in my wounds and label it with, names, dates and corresponding critique, all waiting, hoping, I will never need to disclose them, but keeping them accounted for just in case things go badly. I believe there is no chance for error with silence and no wrong when I have backup in the basement, but I need to table the salt and risk my reality. You can’t hurt me worse than I do when I pour old salt and create new wounds.








Bang the drum, expect a sound


*

FROZEN STRAWBERRIES

I have them in the freezer, I tell my sponsor
I’m sure you do, when are you going to take them out
And reenact spring, she retorts.

I don’t want to take them out before I’m ready
I don’t want them to go to waste.
Oh the Excuse Maker, the Staller

Are you going to drag all the old chestnuts out of the closet?
I thought you were going to defrost the strawberries.
Fear, you’re saying, Fear of strawberries is not a sign of stability I ask her?

Eat the strawberries or not
But it seems to me you didn’t get sober
To avoid the sweeter things in life

Keeping all your goodness locked up
In the deep freeze
Destined for frost bite.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 22




Inspection



My disease paid a discourtesy call on my bourgeoning sobriety. Peeked in to look for cracks in my foundation, weaknesses to exploit. I recognized the patch job I had toyed with would have made the easiest of targets for this eroding thug. I am ever so grateful that I cleaned off all the bricks and made new mortar. Built on bedrock my re-laid block will withstand the indignity of the pounding prodding sickness which used to inhabit this once dilapidated space. I can keep the villain at bay and live my cozy life thanks to a true level and the handsome turn of my trough.





Personal knowledge is not the same as group knowledge

*

SPACE

I stand behind the podium
And talk about the event horizon
Which brought me into these rooms.

My audience, other unwitting astronauts,
Whose lives, like mine were deconstructed
By the Black Hole of addiction

Though the time and place may be different
The physics of compulsion and allergy
Are precise and repetitive

Nodding heads affirm my calculations
To be accurate with the vectors
And trajectories of their own experience

I conclude, with the gratitude of a reassembled life
And pray, with gravity
For my feet to stay on the ground.

[Tommi]

:fyi:Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

Have you heard that expression?

Does it make sense to Y/you?

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 23




The Delano’s


Indifference is the backbone of power. It is a state of faithlessness, not infidelity, but rank apathy, saving every ounce of ardor for the prize you seek. I thought I was the prize and I am; I’m just no longer yours. Cast aside for the leviathan and the miscreants I wonder what I could have done to hold your attention, the answer is nothing. Nothing could be done. Blinded by the ambition of heroism the struggle is the goal and no gem no matter its brilliance can check your drive toward a place in the epic narrative. Tis the hero’s lament to save every life except your own.






Bend with the tracks or don’t take the train

*

SEASONAL EXPECTATIONS

If I am out of sync with the way the world turns
I can be nothing but disappointed
I arrive with ice skates on the hottest summer day
And grieve the loss of spring

I shiver in my sandals and ponder
The need for a windshield scrapper, the autumn so long past
I must orchestrate my moods and movements
With the evolution and revolution about me

I will learn to sing with the doves in the morning
And the coyotes come the moon
I can spin with the stars
And grow with the grass

I don’t need to counter-balance life
If I learn to bend with the tides
It all comes around again;

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 24



Balustrade



Just because you appeared from the dark doesn’t make you a wizard. Just because you make the world safe for mankind doesn’t make you Hercules, nor does your power and foresight make you his father. Your resourcefulness and guile doesn’t make you Ulysses. And just because you spend so much time strapped upon that cross doesn’t make you, well, we all know the rest of that refrain. Human is what you are whether I see that in you or not. Human is a blessing even if it feels to me a curse. I need the superhuman strength you seem to offer but I must live in the world of what is real. I want to be stolen away to the safety of your lair and not live on my feet and fight for my life. I have to stop wishing to be your captive and work harder at simply being your friend. If I can let you down off your pedestal perhaps I could then climb down off mine.




Inscribe your heart’s values on your mind


*

MYTHIC ADULT

My mythic adult is seen by the crowds around me
Never is the charade exposed
Close inspection has been suspended
So we can keep each other’s secrets.

Circulating through the crowd
These children are impoverished
From carrying this load of pretense
Dropping this burden is a risk far too great.

Exposure invites attack
Stand tall, act brave, unreasonable expectations,
Are the water which moves the wheel
The power that generates this ongoing play.

Hamlet is dead, yet I reprise the past daily,
Daily I watch my fellows do the same
I mimic a ghost I never knew in life
Did it ever live or is it only a mythic adult?

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 25



Princess No More



Decent is less obvious than accent and so it is with dethroning; those who put you upon the gilt alter with much aplomb feel no qualm in taking you down with not as much as a word or a grunt. The wind has changed and your reign is over, the poor startled girl is suddenly in the street. For a scepter is not a club and why fight for a throne, which is proven to be nothing more than a straight backed chair once separated from its right relationships. The horror of unexpected common status is for the young bride an issue of safety and trust not of ego or presumption. Who is she without the Prince, the Knight, she is Princess No More.




Take time to wipe unshed tears


*

NO GOLD STARS

I look at my chart
Then my chest
There are no gold stars

I long for the affirmation
Of my Great
And seemingly endless struggle

I watch the movements of those shiny shoes
And hope to be awarded
With the gummed insignia

When I hang by a thread I desire corroboration
Of foil cutouts to assure me I have done the right
I have stayed alive

Punishment I fear less than lack of consolation
But no one truly knows my bravery
And if I want these paper emblems
I can just go and buy my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 26



If Garfunkel Was Here



Speak of the dead and paint the living. Paint them in a good light when you can and into a corner when you have to. Read the books of future generations rather than acting as the arrogant, who attempt to write these volumes. Expunge nothing leave it all on view, but move past it after taking in the implications. Water flows under the bridge until it collapses then it carries the bridge away. So, speak of the dead don’t drown them, paint the living don’t stain them, look to the future don’t dictate to it and let the water run.





Rinse off your first impressions


*
FREQUENTLY

When my daydream gets so threadbare
I no longer use it
I must turn to other sources.

When I cannot conjure on my own
And elucidation makes me cross-eyed
I must turn to HP.

I have puttered and prolonged
The way to naming this legendary
And fabulous enigma.

I drew out even longer
Any desire for close association
With the same.

I have milled with the millstone
And surfed in the whirlpool
Drug my feet and thrown a fit.

This only stalled the inevitable result,
Naming and interaction is the need
And now is the time

I have a Higher Power
And I chose to call it
Frequently.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 27



ROUSs



Time passes, I clock it and count it and use its passage to construct a defense or accusation depending on my need. I use the calendar to condemn you because my feelings do not have sufficient leverage for my mental calculations. To prize disappointment from this scene I watch the water-clock waiting for adequate drops to lift the flood gate and free me from your unfulfilled promise and my unrealized hope. How long is too long to stand in a quagmire? Why do I feel the need for permission to leave the quicksand?





Match persistence with cheer


*
DOLL

Why is your face all red, asked my sponsor?
I didn’t get my way, I responded
And this crimson appearance is the result?

You see that it is
I was very careful about what I wanted
And worked hard to be reasonable.

And Baby , you were, you did nothing wrong
Your ego was in check
And you kept your expectations in proportion
Said my sponsor

Then why didn’t it work out my way?
I only have a sad and simple answer for you
The results had nothing to do with you.

Your wants, expectations or desires,
The whole experience boils down to only one thing
It wasn’t that type of party, Doll.

Oh.

[Tommi]

Good morning LeftWriteFemme and all that come to wehre the light is kept on...:bath:
"It wasn’t that type of party, Doll"

Hmmmwhere have I heard that qoute before...


ROUSs / rodents of unusal size ? Sweetness?:hockey:

[Tommi]

Reminder for anyone out there. There is a Friends of Bill meeting Sunday. Select the right Chat Room and password, and join in. We had a short one last week.

PS..The meeting starts here on the Planet, in CHAT.

Sunday night at 6PM EST. If nobody comes in by 6:15 then it's bye bye till next Sunday night at 6PM

There is a room inside "Chat" Called Friends of Bill, Lois and Jimmy" or is it Jimmy and Lois , Lefty?

PS. thanks for posting Sober on the Way to Sane inspirations and the poetry below it every day. Works from two books posted every day..Amazing.

Have a great day everyone.

Tommi

[LeftWriteFemme]

ROUSs / rodents of unusal size ? Sweetness?:hockey:



Yes, Syr, Rodents of Unusal Size. I am always amazed at the things you know!!!!!

All my love,

the girl

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 28



Estranged


After long years I have made my own acquaintance, friendship is on a far distant shore. I know who I am and can recognize myself on the street or in a crowded room. I have a legitimate sense of wariness of the afore mentioned persona, nothing too nasty, just a discomfort. She is not someone I would bring home, maybe not even share a meal with but I can stand her, minus intimacy, minus any deep empathy. I feel an awkwardness in acknowledging her, strange as this might sound, she is no one to be ashamed of, not a truly bad actor and yet the reports say she doesn’t live up to her potential and I have it on personal authority that she actually surpasses it on most days and keeps this a closely held confidence. And there it is, I know her secrets but I don’t keep her. This is what makes me strange and her stranger.






Catch your reflection in the eyes of a friend



*



THE ONE I BOUGHT

There are fairy tales I never gave credence to
Multiple bear stories don’t move me
Cats with footwear have not warranted a second thought.

True love-----------
Now that one I still buy
Hook line and sinker.

Work hard---------
And true love will fix the rest
That is what I have always believed.
The evil spell I have walked under

During my sad little life will be broken
Only by the durable and fulfilling love of my betrothed.
Each time this plan fell through

The blame was left to the wrongness of the match
But not the wrongness of the plot
.
Anytime I work to be restored to sanity by one person
I have displaced a rightful power
And thrown myself to the sea.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 29


Queens: More than a Borough


My drama is bigger than yours. My drama can kick your drama’s ass. Well maybe not, but it sure is kicking mine. Like a rain soaked grave, I stand in this muddy hole, sides slick, unassailable and count the piles of tragedy ,all the while knowing it will bury me not facilitate a climb out. I attempt to display the face of comedy and yet the mask can not fool me, my true audience. I think if I can keep it all up on stage I will be alright, but then the point of theater is that everything is carried away in the minds of all who come and watch. Silence doesn’t help either for there is little worse than a bad mime and doing it well just makes me Lillian Gish. So, back to Bohemia for isn’t it all a rhapsody, though it would all be so much better if Freddy Mercury weren’t dead.




String your dreams together and let them fly


*

HOSTAGE DOLL

A doll stands wedged between two mailboxes
Naked and exposed,
The edge of the road passing her by.

She is there to pay for my self-loathing
I throw my treasures in the air
As skeet to be shot and shattered.

Hate is the obnoxious microbe
Which sours my digestion
And rids me of nutrition and affection.

I purge love and tenderness
I rip the covers from my playthings
And leave them to bleed.

I hide in my self-destruction
I put garish displays streetside
And cry my tears alone.

I cannot ransom to pay the price of fear
I must bring in the broken babies
And put hate out on the curb.

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 30




RAID !!!


So, you stepped into a hornets nest and now how am I to respond? Blame you? No, I don’t think so, I mean you are the exterminator and some stings are to be expected, but this is far beyond even your honed ability to anticipate wasps. Cry, running from this ambush? Again, I decline I still want you after the war is over, even if I can not fight by your side. Protest, I try to refrain, I never want to make your job harder but I don’t want to leave the impression I have no concern, so I walk the fine line. Standing on the sidelines is harder than you think, I am helpless and lonely, not as exciting as your work and no comfort from this distance. I must hold my breath while you provoke the bees.




Stack your honest intentions as a hedge against a cold winter


*




TROJAN PERSON

I feel confused by the difference between love and war
The intensity and rush are too much
For my frazzled and betrayed emotions to sort out.

I feel like a Trojan person
I have all these children holdup inside
And they are waiting for peace and safety
So they can come out and sleep

For a time I allowed them to leave
For bathroom breaks one at a time
This was not a workable solution.

When these tykes would have a look around
They started to set fires and break hearts
Each child makes life a battleground
Fights and claws her way across the living landscape.

I must heal my insides from the center of my thoughts
Not send fragments of me to blend
With the unfamiliar and hostile world

Only when I can stand together
With my mind and heart safe within my being
Will I see a way to make love on my own terms
And leave war alone.

[Lady Pamela]

I know that most candles are done on another thread...But I wanted to bring this one here...I will also add it to the light a candle thread..For those who need it.


I light this candle and ask that the energy go to all who need it.
In hops that everyone will feel and recieve all it has to offer them.

I also light in in thanks for all the help and guidance and unconditional friendship this thread has given to everyone who frequents here.
May those who have helped....Recieve special blessings needed for your life for your selflessness!

http://i294.photobucket.com/albums/mm87/Pamelia_and_Stormi_SongBird/candles/serenitycandleprayer.gif

[LeftWriteFemme]

May 31



Black & Dedication



The brand of equipment endorsed by my Higher Power is built so that my hand is clasped inside lest I feel alone or unaided. A closed mouth and an open mind work very well when I can manage either of them and Step 10 works when I can’t. I am usually the problem in my life but I am always the solution. Others may change and contribute; I am the one and only one, responsible for my happiness. Dropping blame from my vocabulary and adding responsibility, learning to differentiate between what is mine and what is yours; these tools are keys and they open worlds of possibility to me. Also they shut out the demons of wrong thinking, wrong acting and desperation, which used to plague me. There are still greater tools I yearn for but like everything I must be patient and build my muscles to handle the heavier machinery.







Dine with hope


*

GULPING

The plug that lodges in my throat
From too much, too fast
Causes the anxiety to rise in me.

The panic fills my contracting muscles
Into rock solid revolt.
I can’t live, is the predictable result

Gulping attention, acclaim, excitement, sex,
Does the same thing
My heart clots and my personality stops in mid-flow

Everything in carefully chosen, well chewed bites
Makes the process proceed
My life works along workable paths

If I stay away from oversized freight
I can never swallow myself whole
Why would I keep trying to imbibe giants like desire?

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 1




I’m not Brian


I thought life was based on a system of ‘I will suffer and that will exempt you’. Then I would be horrified when you suffered, after I had already done so ahead of you. In an attempt to ease my dismay I would look to see who had broken the pact, you or me. Had I not endured sufficiently to protect you? Had you left the safety of the umbrella of sanctuary? Panic gives birth to blame and blame of course births nasty biting things that run loose and bury in all the tender spots. Now, the goals I tend are to end the breeding of those sharp and painful beasties, stop laying my neck upon the alter and start telling better jokes.






Scramble cracked perceptions




*


DANCE OF DEATH

Honeyed words pour from lips
Shades of doubt color my mind
Stained glass eyes look to blank walls
And picture the gallery of imagination
Attempting to sell it for hard currency

Sirens sing from the throats of mute men
The screams which rise in me fall on deaf ears
Paradox feeds controversy but it needn’t

Evolution from a cesspool is repugnant
Though process is steady made
Inertia is violent if that is from whence it came

Afterbirth is always bloody and humans not always nice
I must live and heal as others climb up and slide down
I must keep the beat and forget the dance of death.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 2



The Attention Tax


Paying attention is the price exacted for living in this society. A taxation which is like a leach; it takes the life force, diverts my brain waves, claims the water rights to my river of thought. What is left I use to wash off what I can, never quite managing to feel clean or clear. I sit in the mud puddle still unsure if I understand what just happened; harboring a dark fear of the wave to come.





Cultivate creative ambition


*

BOTTLE THE ACID

My sponsor said “bottle the acid” and I did
I sat back in smug reflection until the plumbing backed up
I grabbed the fast solution and poured it down the drain.

My sponsor smiled as I learned ----
The baser things will eat my life away too.
I can never just decant power and expect it to clean sweep
The clogged pathways in my recovery.

Sloshing caustic medicine into open orifices brought me here
I long for the ease of a liquid resolution
In the end, I must clean the pipes myself.

The traps are simpler to cleanse the less I’ve lied
Telling myself I don’t have to get my hands
Or heart dirty is the biggest lie of all.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 3



Soul Chiggers


If you can seed apprehension deeply in a generation, you can reap disillusionment for a hundred years. Bent foresight twists hindsight. Admiring ignorance, signs death’s warrant. Evil splintered to a thousand slivers burrows under the skin without killing their host. Death delayed spreads destruction along with melancholy; a septic contagion if ever there was one. And how do we fight this systemic blight? It is embedded in the water, the air, the mind, and try what I might; I can’t seem to live without any of these. Chiggers of the soul feed and breed no matter how I scratch and chew. I am raw, but still infested. How do I kill what is in me without killing the me?




Step up to indecision



*

THE WORM

Because there is never enough punishment
For those who inflict pain, I punish myself
Only I can tell if the depth of the pain is a match
Only I can judge when enough is enough.

This is the turn of the drunken worm--
Who lives in my brain
The belief that what began in pain
Must end there too.

Even now in recovery I persist in hurting myself
In a thousand tiny ways, setting trap after trap,
To catch the perpetrators, making my heart a mine field
A place unfit for me to live

I must sober the worm
And let myself off the hook.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 4




Head Wringing



I have my say, though my fear is that I constantly repeat myself; very much the way a crow calls the same thing endlessly, but it all has different meanings to the crow. I would offer code keys to my readers if I could lay my hands on one. My mind whispers that the soothing people get from my work is like the calm induced by chanting monks. Possibly it is more the actor’s trick of reading repetitive lines each time putting the emphasis on a different word; a way of squeezing all the juice from nonsense. I jot ideas swearing these lines are to be found somewhere in my previous work, perhaps whole pages are redundant. Finally I stop this fight reminding myself I have but one voice and what I accuse myself of as similarity might merely be my style.







Find satisfaction in the middle, too


*

OPEN WINDOWS

I roll down the window in the rain
Hoping reality will soak in with the droplets
I tilt my face as I leave the car
And let the water shower my features.

The downpour is the jolt to living for which I have prayed
I stand on my lawn and rinse the day out of my hair
I clear my brain in the fresh rainwater.

The driving rain pounds the house and trees
But I feel massaged and cared for
My skin reflexive, teaches my mind to absorb and hydrate
I turn my thoughts to Greater Powers.

Even if the doors have been closed
I can open the windows
And let the rain come in.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 5



The Hope Diamond


My guess is the same god that wants me stupid also wants me to suffer. I ask myself what could be all powerful about that? I wonder is G-d like a friend or a lover? I carefully chose my friends whereas my lover found me against my greatest plans and well thought rules. And if this is to be like marriage, may I file for divorce if things go astray? Or am I stuck with this match, like I am stuck with my deformed ear there underneath hat or fringe of hair? I never thought of my relationship with G-d like a necklace I could take on and off at will, though the more I study it seems this beautiful thing enhances my beauty if all is right and will strangle me if it gets hung up.







Sort genius from fortune


*

RED ROSES

From tight green buds come beautiful roses.
From small verdant places I blossom too.
I open to richness unexpected and fullness unbelieved.

I look at crumpled laundry
Never anticipating the look of clean sheets blowing on the line
Doors I perceive as blocked by vast boulders
Are thrown open by willingness.

Who I am today is no one I recognize
I didn’t see myself coming.
I write though I can’t spell
I love though my heart is broken.

I think though my mind is warped
And I trust though the amulet is long shattered.
Promise is not a laid out plan but the continuum of change
I can fight it or let it carry me where it goes.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 6


Eggshells and Bethlehem

A stable is a place to keep a horse and in fairytales a place to birth a baby, but stable is the story I told myself about you. Solid, a model of strength and here you are a tripod, upright only if the pressure is evenly applied. I blame myself for lopsided need and try to find a way to keep this coupling standing. Stripped down to minor contact I wonder if you actually remember me and then I wonder if I remember myself. This is what is at stake, this is the trophy I lose when I fall for you and you fall down. Where is the girl I worked so hard to create? Broken eggshells litter the nest and I look for the chick I used to be. I fear losing you, I cry at the thought of losing us, I die at the loss of me.








Graft beauty to stability


*

IN THE MEADOW

Being the only tree in the meadow often leaves me feeling lonely
I tell myself of the camaraderie I imagine in the forest
These images are more poetic than real.

I believe in community and support
I think of the woods as a place apart
From the complications of my exposed life.

I shrug off the very real competition and struggle
From sharing every inch of root space
And the search for each square of sunlight.

There is much joy in being an individual
An eco-system of diversity allows me to fully develop
I can spread my branches and my roots.

I can offer shelter to those in need of my reaching and my shadow
Tender flowers and tired birds find me a haven
I have unique abilities in this field

Space can feel lonely
But it is full of possibilities.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 7



Discussions with my Disease


“You’re not the girl I used to know.”
“Not the girl you used to love is what you mean?”
“You’re different is all I mean to say.”
“The rest you leave there to rot, unsaid?”
“Something has happened to you.”
“Is it something that you do not like?”
“I don’t know who you are anymore.”
“Or is it that you never knew?”
“One false move could break us up.”
“All your moves are false why will one more cause such change?”






Side with the tide

*

MAGIC WAND

Why are you wearing that hat and waving
That star studded stick, I ask my sponsor?
Isn’t this what you want, a magic wand, she replied?
Whatever are you talking about?
I don’t want a wizard.
Don’t you?
You thought walking into your first meeting would
Poof---make you all better,
When that didn’t work, you held your breathe for 90 days.
When that also proved a disappointment
You let the air out of your blue face
And started the white knuckle routine for a year.
At the end of twelve months, you released your arthritic grip
And started scheming for a new sponsor
But the new wicked witch sent you scurrying back to me.
Then it was a relationship with the undying love
That would break the spell you are under.
Now tell me again,
How you don’t want me to use this magic wand on you?
Said my sponsor with aplomb.
I guess my behavior gave me away,
Go ahead say your incantation.
I closed my eyes and waited for her words.
Show up and do the work
Keep your mind open, she said
As she waved the cudgel.
That’s it----------I asked,
Well yes-- but I have to come back everyday
She grinned

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 8


Enclosed Space


In the echo chamber it is the cymbals which cause the most pain. The drums resound, deep and loud, but it is the crashing of brass that drives me wild. Cotton wool and sealing wax can not put my head at ease. Resonate walls with their hollow effects create the feedback loops of hurt, like the endless reflection of parallel mirrors the sounds come back to me with relentless repetition. Aural illusion might have been the idea, but chaos is the result and leaving the space between these ears will be, will allow, the band to play on without the benefit of my torment.






Write the stories the clouds illustrate

*

BOUQUET

I love the flowers in my garden
Their upkeep is my solemn trust
With my shears I must cut
Clear and swift the runners
Which detract from the health and structure.

When fruiting is heavy I must spare the stalk
And choose what stays and what needs to be taken
I am scrupulous in my observation of form and function

The bucolic scene thrives
The pageant of color sweeps the rows
I bend to nurture and stretch to prune
I pay over much attention to the plucking
And forget I need to bring the blooms home.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 9



Weight Problem


I have trouble raising my 50 pound hand in meetings. In between meetings I have the problem of trying to dial the 500 pound phone. Which leaves me with this 2,000 pound weight on my chest and no air to breathe, no life to lead. There is the difficulty of the relentless tyrant, my would be sponsor, the person I fail to ask. Plus, the home group that does not support me, since they do not know my name. All the while folks laugh and talk and have a good time, I can see none of them have suffered from my weight problem.





Continue to move into your home




*

CLONING DAYS



The novelty of sobriety causing sweet days
Wore to gauze and I attempted control
I cut, pasted and sutured elements of good living
In an effort to make 24 hour of personal perfection.

I was so sure I could replicate these jewel days
I would make perfect spheres, everything round and even
One after another like a string of pearls
The more I tried the harder God laughed
.
Days are their own planets
Saturn is different from Mars
And today will have as little to do with tomorrow
If I let it all work out.

Perfection is a thing which is born to live
Not a thing I can draft in a dish or test tube
Life will-out
Or chaos will prevail.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 10



Abraxas



I was waiting for a magic person and then you appeared. I was dazzled; I was under your spell. In an attempt to prove myself your natural assistant I sawed me in two. Then I stepped into the vanishing cabinet and promptly disappeared. I was not wrong to see the miraculous in you, but I never looked from your visage once you arrived. The world around me melted at your entrance and I flowed down the drain along with it. I somehow expected a response from you, but why respond to an empty room? So, I will plug back into myself and power up. Power draws power and I will see if I can draw you once again.





Keep a truce on hand for later use


*

THE LANDING

Risers and runners lift from where I stand
Here I make my decision
I climb and face the challenges of my life

Each new test returns me to this square
The steps ascend in every direction
No matter how many times I have scaled this set of twelve
I must start anew with even the slightest change of direction

Like facets on a diamonds base
The flights emerge from the tiny base
And hold the world of possibilities
Within their meticulous surface

I look into these precious mirrors
To see who I am and where to go
Though none of this would be possible
Without a place to stand.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 11


Prize Catch



There is a reason that fish flap and twist when they are caught, why even though they are in the air they fight for the life that once was theirs, only martyrs go without a fight, it is good to know that at least this vice is not mine. When I did not love my life its loss was not an actual change, there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to struggle for. Now I thrash at the feel of my loved life slipping from me. It is good to know I have passion enough to rally a defense. My life can be taken from me, but I haven’t lost my will to fight.






Turn confusion until its smooth


*

THE PALMIST

Last night I had a silly dream.
I was in a tent at a carnival and the woman across the table
Held my hand so dear, looked into my eyes and said
“Today you will go to a meeting which will save your life”

I thanked her and left full of anticipation.
When I awoke, I was filled with the same strong sensation
I rose, washed and left for the meeting with anticipation.

I paid close attention to the coffee maker,
Those setting up chairs with me and the newcomer
I listened carefully to the speakers
And the sound of the group’s voice closing in prayer

Nothing out of the ordinary happened
Other than my realization
That every meeting saves my life.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 12

Dido

Either I can have a bad relationship that I never wanted or no relationship and the painful isolation of having been lied to and deceived by someone who, in theory, should have been trustworthy. You are off to war and I am agape not having realized until too late that you are a soldier. The fact is that one of these things will occur; you will be killed by a machine which cares nothing for you and sees you as its enemy or destroyed by the organization that sees you as its own or you will throw yourself on your sword and keep from bothering anyone else with this task. There is no scenario where you are the One you promised me you’d be. No homecoming, no welcoming arms to hold me. I stand on the sidewalk a garbage pail of cold water poured over my shock and dismay. To my grief you say that you have heard it all before, so why did you set me up to say it all again? I am heart stricken and cut in a place to obvious to hide and too hidden to speak of. You have no time to talk, no aid to give, no love to spare. I thought I was yours, but see that I have been swept from your life by the flood of a large gauge hose and water of questionable origin. Everything is wet but nothing is clean. This is an unholy act and I am defeated and living in Carthage.




Forgive loneliness


*

FABULOUS

I don’t care what else is on the inventory-----
You still have to take responsibility for FABULOUS
Said my sponsor with a determined look on her face.

But you don’t understand------
The other things on the list make it impossible
For me to be FABULOUS
You can’t see how incapable I truly am, I say
As I collapse into a pathetic heap in the overstuffed chair.

What you don’t comprehend is that FABULOUS
Is not affected by your other little grumblings
You can’t tarnish FABULOUS
It doesn’t wear away with burden or neglect .

This is why no matter how far you bury it
Or misname it, or even flatly deny it
FABULOUS shines like a beacon
And you end up with every Todd, Nick and Martha
On your doorstep.

Expecting you to be who you are
And let them warm in the glow
So my cherub--you can fight it or live with it
But FABULOUS is here to stay

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 13

Sanitized


All the water in the well gone dry belongs to me. Such an offer, how could I refuse? I stand as near the edge as I can get and try my best to peer, is the goldfish alive? For you see this is still my best hope, you, the source are also my wishing well, more than just survival you are prospect, neigh dream. You say that what’s left is mine, but you think of it as incidental, not a need, merely a want. Someplace deep, beyond where you admit, you know that life is dependant on desire, but will play mine off as casual when it becomes inconvenient to your drives and blindness. Eunuchs do not immediately perish, but you must confess they do not live. I stand here a lock to which there is no longer a key and whether I am open or closed it doesn’t matter for the partnership of change is desiccated and I do not care for a waterless solution.








Check yourself for false steps



*

INVENTORY

When you say “self” who do you mean
Asked my sponsor
Do you mean the lovely velvet child,
Or the façade you built to show others?
Well I wish I could answer you, I do, my reply.

I see the shrine you construct in your sobriety
I love that you made it.
When you talk about ridding yourself of self--
I doubt you mean this edifice.

Do you speak of some creature in the past
Do you know of whom you speak
Are you parroting, then assuming this thing exists
Solely for you to now dispose of it?

I thought “self “ was self-evident- I feebly interject.
I want names and locations
If you only suspect some of these entities
Please provide me with a full accounting of your suspicions

I also want, to the best of your ability, the origin of these individuals
I am unwilling to cosign their disposal without a proper bookkeeping
I see by the bright look on your face,
I have made myself clear, she said with conviction.
So this is what you meant by self-inventory, I say and sigh.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 14


Circular Needles

I react badly when I find a loose thread because I never know what might be unraveling. I have knit my heart out; have dropped an occasional stitch to be sure. Unbeknown to me these little holes in my logic wait for the stress of overextension to run through the length of my life, untying earnest work. If I could catch these unsecured thoughts before it all goes too far, I might have a chance to hook back into the main fabric and prevent this unfurling of collateral. When the cord is cut and the line flaps freely real panic ensues. Even if capture of both ends is possible, knots are awkward, unseemly and gauche. I was planning a seamless life, smooth and beyond reproach. My fear of reprisal flares before the ever-burning coals of abject self-doubt have a chance to be felt. This banked inferno generates the things which bake and fry my nerves, burn my threads and disintegrate my mantle. I need to put out the fire before I re-knit my world.






Teach desire to breathe


*

TOO FAR, TOO FAST

Balloons filled with hydrogen
Race the atmosphere and fly away
The effect is stunning
So much lift for just pennies

The easy way has no line, no waiting
Fast dirty service is available
Risk assessment is counter-balanced
With dramatic outcome
Low initial cost and instant gratification.

How can I not want to rise above the crowd?
How can I not want it now?
Hydrogen is quick and plentiful,
Volatile, yes but why should this bother me?

I have a Higher Power to protect me
It’s not as if I were playing with fire,
I am only tempting it!

[Tommi]

June 14


Circular Needles

I react badly when I find a loose thread because I never know what might be unraveling. I have knit my heart out; have dropped an occasional stitch to be sure. Unbeknown to me these little holes in my logic wait for the stress of overextension to run through the length of my life, untying earnest work. If I could catch these unsecured thoughts before it all goes too far, I might have a chance to hook back into the main fabric and prevent this unfurling of collateral. When the cord is cut and the line flaps freely real panic ensues. Even if capture of both ends is possible, knots are awkward, unseemly and gauche. I was planning a seamless life, smooth and beyond reproach. My fear of reprisal flares before the ever-burning coals of abject self-doubt have a chance to be felt. This banked inferno generates the things which bake and fry my nerves, burn my threads and disintegrate my mantle. I need to put out the fire before I re-knit my world.



Good one...:hangloose:

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 15


Down to the Watership


The immoderate champions immoderation; the glutton recommends consumption, more often than not a drunk will pour you a drink It is part of the social norm to conform to the addiction of the day. If we are all high we laugh at each other’s jokes and there is less finger pointing about the mess. When we are all in this together we sink or we swim, but we mustn’t look around. Like the rabbits who cannot ask, “Where?” We try to look at ease with dying and contented with our lot. More must be better for we can’t survive on less than what we’ve got.








Design trees for your secret garden


*


WATER BABIES

Timeless babies bobble in their underwater positions
Voiceless cherubs bounce and wink
The river of their wisdom to my feeble mind.

The noise of silence wrinkles and tinkles
As the waves crash soundlessly above.
My head fills

I must surface but beg not to lose my connection
When I break the tension of top-side sobriety
I turn these angels to screened-off faithfulls

I must owe all I have to these aquatic infants
Every hope, all my fear is held to test in the face of,
Swimming heroines and their embryonic grave.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 16


What I Heard Through the Snow

The commentator’s voice fades in and out as the reception is lost and found among the static of my drive home. In here is a pattern, a connect the dots matrix; I try to feel my way too as I weave past the slow and stubborn traffic. Like a call from the wilderness distorted through a storm, my frantic thoughts obscure, sometimes distort the content, the intent, the soul of a message I so desperately need. Broadcast warnings, safety suggestions, help and hope are torn to slivers and rewoven in my careworn brain. The distraction of the road allows the subliminal heart beat to tattoo in my ear then my chest, all the way to my toes, bodily acceptance overpowers my relentless mind and clarity is achieved, no matter the drifts.







Lay a hand on improbability


*


ALONE IN A NEW WAY

I am restored.
I have my sanity like a Spring coat
I am not sure I need it
But it’s nice to have nevertheless.

I prayed for this state of reason
Believing it would give me entree
To a world where I was a late arrival
To a party I am no longer sure
Will ever take place.

I stand in the entrance hall
And practice new dance steps.
I search the space for prospective partners
But rarely see anyone who is swaying
To the same beat.

I am grateful for my sanity
Even if I have to enjoy it alone.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 17


Poe-etiquette


Cosmic questions cross the sky,
I wonder but don’t ask why
I pitch the tent, but don’t stay the night
I borrow money and don’t pay the rent
I sooth myself but can’t be content
I earn my keep though it is all been spent
The real true meanings are pushed away,
Has ready tragedy come to stay
Forever darkness, no more light of day
Cheerful greeting left to lay
All the poets bring their knives
For blood letting’s become their prize
Here I sit and tend the boat
Rocking dingy out to moor
I play the Raven, black and poor
I dare not speak it but in my mind sing “Never more”





Be wary of magical thinking



*

RECOGNIZABLE NONEXISTENCE

You will never take time to tell the truth
You will always take time to tell a joke,
As you run from your life
I see the familiar vapor trails of an unlived life.

When I flee my life through caretaking
I leave the same mist of unfulfilled desire behind me
I look at your potential
And the damage you do by not being here
I turn the magnifying glass on me
And search for the same trends.

I feel abandoned by you
The you, you never were
But always should have been
I pray for the key
Which will get me on the other side
Of the door you never opened.

I hope to live life
As it is
Rather than the comedy
It can never be.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 18


Limen


Do you leave when it is time to go or are you the type who exits early? Does departure time find you lingering trying to squeeze out one more minute rooted in this spot? Are you the kind of person who loves the street, but avoids the parade? Can you bear to go, bear to stay, bear to think that the world exists beyond this door? Do you move with the other sheep when all the crowd says, “Baa.” Are you fleet with a sky full of clouds obeying the breeze, flaunting the tides? Do you change with the seasons or are you passed from hand to hand, living your life in the snow of a globe? My life is my life, but the most vital evidence of how I live it is what I do on thresholds.






Shake the trunk of certainty and see what falls to the ground



*

RECLAMATION ARTIST

I stand over the refuse can and peer in.
I drive slowly past the piles of curbside discards
I have so much trouble accepting
There is no reclaiming most of this growing mass.

There must be an alternate plan but I can’t see it yet.
I surround myself with hopeful stacks and wishful trinkets
I want to make a new world from old
Save past relationships and make them somehow fresh.

I don’t want to drown, I fear I can’t think fast enough
To keep the wave from breaking over us all
I will maintain an open mind
And be grateful my life was retrieved from the dust bin.

I’ll steal peeks at what has been put out for lost.
I was once lost too.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 19



Tea Totaler


My alcoholism was anonymous even while I was active. My destruction was internal, outside evidence kept to a minimum. It is easy to understand why so many from my past as well as my present are shocked to see me a member in good standing for a club they never saw me pay the price to join. But cost doesn’t always advertise in the public square. I know the score, the numbers etched upon my soul. I need to be well even if you didn’t know I am sick. I take the medicine; offer a smile to those who think it prophylactic and keep upon my path. Just because you didn’t know the contents of my bottle doesn’t mean I didn’t earn the tag on my tea.




Attend the clues your body gives you



*


ONIONS

I heard people in meetings sharing about peeling onions
They say they peel layer after layer until it’s all gone!
What the hell is that all about?
I demand in the general direction of my sponsor.

Zealotry, it’s about zealotry
I peel my onions too,
I have many layers of dried-up, paper-thin rhetoric
Which I use to protect myself.

I have to slit this papery hush
And eject myself from the illusion
To get the living and vital usefulness underneath
Then what?

Then I try to let God decide where is the best place
To add flavor, stew is good but salad is a treat
I can go anywhere once the waste is stripped away.

What about the issues you haven’t worked out yet?
I bait my sponsor
Well those are other onions-
Is all she would say.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 20



Who is Who



Remake the bed for the restless child in you who sleeps better if attention is paid to the small kindnesses. Placating her saves you the sound of her plaintive cry. If you teach yourself or allow yourself to grow fond of her, this child you, these simple chores will seem light, refreshing, natural. If you fight her she will grow strong and you will grow weak. Don’t resist nature. Don’t resist your nature. Take a hug to share as you would take an apple divided on a walk in the woods with a companion. Share emotional embraces, let your thoughts surround her when you make plans and do deals. If you treat her as if she is the best of you, you will become the best of her.






Collaborate with your missed cues


*

SMOG

When I burnout the smoke affects everyone in the surrounding area
I forget to keep my wick trimmed and lamp full
I empty out and my light grows dim
I am responsible for maintenance and upkeep.

If I don’t protect my own radiance I will lose it
And the darkness will be felt throughout the neighborhood
I can’t risk the death of illumination or incur smoldering haze.

Fortification of my sobriety is a simple task
If I make proper use of resources.
When I turn energy to obligation I am distracted
And separated from my source
Then the source I am to others is extinguished.

I can only light the darkness where I am
I can’t illuminate someone else’s path
Nor should I pollute the way with smoke and vapor
Due to a lapse in my spiritual condition.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 21



In the Beginning is the End



I wonder if the road would show the reflection of its end would I walk down it still. I always decide that I wouldn't want to miss anything, not even the most painful things, yet this may simply be a flaw in my upbringing. An over-valuing of survival. What of you? If the knowledge of beginning and end were within your grasp would you begin? Would you flee the end? This end or every end? Or is it the beginning that you fear? And why not, for doesn’t every beginning hold within it every end?





Enjoy the season you find yourself in


*


THE POODLE

Those pointed toes, slender legs
Carry her across my outstretched mid.
What a blessing to be sober long enough
To have never done any unseemly or frightful thing
Which might have caused apprehension in this firefly of a dog.

I read until she lays her neck over my mouth
For her kisses and ear rubs.
She is the center of the universe and I needn’t compete
I am content to serve as a resting place and nurse maid
I no longer look to be everyone’s pet.

I can pamper and indulge this little one
She has the whole stage to herself.
I can be her faithful audience
Having given up my farce.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 22


Notice



I put myself on the auction block and wait to see how high a rate I will have to pay to become slave to my illusions. I have worked so ardently to free myself from past enslavements and here I stand naked on this block, selling myself and hoping I will fetch a price. Poisonous pedagogy is atomized, contained in every breath, I don’t know how to live apart from it and thus I stand waiting to be bought. It no longer matters how I got up here the first time, for who cares that slaves enslave. All that matters is that there seems no safe way off this block or out of this web, or down this street; the world seems a bad neighborhood everywhere I turn. Yet I must admit that standing here affords a view I would not have if I were buying. If I am slave I can have hope of someday being free, if I am owner what hope might there be?




Manage your behavior



*

CURRENCY OF FEAR

Fear pays the way for my disease to enter.
Once inside fear seats itself front and center
Fear is the currency that allows entrée to the far reaches,
The coinage is ancient and steeped in tradition.

There is no time or place
Which hasn’t been moneyed with fear
And it’s derivatives I can’t hide from
So my job must be to educate fear.

Fear is real
And has a place as protector and warning
But fear expands with ignorance
And devalues the purpose of caution.

Fear cannot buy safety
Though I can use it
To pay the toll
Across the bridge to balance.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 23



Do Not Enter



Putting all the mess securely behind that door is no protection. If the keys are changed will I be able to open it? If the locks retumbled will I crack the combination? Like a demon sealed within a womb emergence is inevitable either upon this mortal plain or cellularly encoded and reborn at a later date. Prison is what holds captive the innocent, evil is always at liberty. Walling off my parts and pieces severs limbs and destroys thinking. Loads of cheesecloth is what I need; filter and refilter, catching all debris. Putting the toxic things to better use and making myself free.






Respect experimentation

*

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT

Arrested development was bad enough
The living death sentence it imposes
Is completely unacceptable
My childhood ran down the hill
Away from the mountain of confusion
Which is life in this society

My ability to mature was damaged
And what I learned to do was mutate
I could move laterally but never grow up.
I became the goose being grown for its liver
All the honk and squawk in the world
Couldn’t change my plight

I don’t have to understand how I was let out
Of the prison of addiction
As long as I don’t go back
I’ll never fear breaking out in handcuffs
Or getting locked in my crib.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 24




The Tide in Texas



I cannot tell you of my pain, how the liars took me off my land, how my heart lay shattered all around, how I’m so foolish and left in town. I cannot show you the big red ball, which to me is a shame or how it bobs and sways or how the tail of it hangs out of reach and taunts me all the day. But growing up to face the facts and finding my strong legs has put me to another tact and sucks the mud away. Sharing my disappointment and my grief is like adding ballast to the boats. It lifts us all instead of sinking me. Not much of a price to pay.






Cruise your assets


*

RENTING JOY

I cannot buy happiness
No matter how much money I spend,
No matter how hard I work,
I can never pay bliss off on layaway.

The angles of escape for glee are phenomenal
I see runaway emotions and concede ownership
When opportunities arise for satisfaction
I pay the fare and take the trip.

The boat isn’t mine to keep
But the tour is forever in my heart.
I can’t take it home and bury it in the yard
I need to enjoy each measure while the music plays.

I remunerate for time in proximity
Delight arrives and stays as long as it likes
I linger at the table and enjoy my desert
Leasing elation is an occasion of celebration.

Living moment to moment
Has given me this chance
So I take it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 25



For Want of Frith


I feel like I am standing on a trap door, every flex in my footing triggers insecurity. With my arms spread wide, I think the wiser move might be to hold them to my sides. For if the little square did give way my arms might be sheered off with no time served for the tears I’ve cried or the blood now shed sprinkled on the earth. Step from this I tell myself and do not make delay for all the ground is not a trap nor all the world a stage. But is it not the trade in pain that sticks me to this spot and keeps me here for all my life just waiting for the drop.







Sweep a path to your goals



*

UTILITY OF EMOTION

I plug into the utility of my emotions
These utilities aid my life as all utilities do.
The duel prong of anger serves to light me up
And gives me strength to set boundaries.

The four line clip cord of pain allows me to keep in touch
With my Higher Power, my friends and my fellows.
I have nothing to share if I can’t stay real about my pain
.
Fear is hard to contain and is carefully piped
Explosions of fear can start so easily,
It’s a good thing its foul odor can be smelled in the air.

The co-axial cable of joy screws neatly into the back of my mind
And gives me delight,
Color and sound are the privileges of sobriety.

Emotions are plainly utilitarian
But they help me survive
And make living into a life.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 26


Living as a Megaphone


He whispers in my ear, I part my lips and let it all run out. Vacant tube of a thing, his words pour through me nothing to stem the flow, no diversions, no catch basin. He hides behind me, the bully that he is. I stand with rings painted bright concentric, bold. I am nothing; I know it and don’t need him to tell me, my inactions speak louder than his words. He is not the one who bore right through my core; he is just the little worm who is living there secure. I will have to purge him out to be his megaphone no more.





Protect your awareness


*

OPTICAL ILLUSION

From the right angle a hat pin can appear
Taller then the Empire State Building
I can skew my perspective to such an extreme
Or let my disease do it to me.

I can believe myself to be other than I am
The sweetest, kindest, smartest quickest,
Smallest, slowest, lowest, meanest.
I can see myself as all this and more.

As long as I squint with one eye
And look at only half of an issue
I can play the parts and act as if
These things are true.

I can even get others to play along
I can make fantasy fact if I lower the floor
I can die in the basement, many do.

I can turn my face from science
And be the center of all that spins
Or climb the stairs to ground level.

I can turn my mind to facts and fractions
Leave my better-than, less-than universe
And see the height of everything
And stand tall with my eyes open.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 27


I am not an Island



Upon finding myself alive I decided to throw my life back into the sea. I was not living on this dry and sandy shore. The baking sun does nothing to improve me. I was dis-engorged onto the beach, but never belonged there. I tried to see myself as evolving, tried desperately to sprout some legs. Sucked air through my gills and attempted to sing, but I am not ready for this today. Perhaps this is my future, the way the current will carry me that I can’t yet tell. I do know I need the water on my scales and pressure in my lungs right now. I do not know what tomorrow brings or what I am capable of just that I will not fault myself for not having been born a dove.







Remember that time passes


*


COLD AND FLU SEASON

The spiritual cold and flu season is upon me,
I am awash in reaction and confusion.
I have been overexposed to the dry thinking
And barking orders of the cough
So associated with this disability.

My eyes swell and blur with my refusal to accept reality
The tickle of discomfort from inhaling disagreeable ideas
Is small in comparison with the nausea I suffer when I swallow
Every line put forth from my dizzy and congested mind.

There is no pill to dissuade my symptoms
I must raise the heat on this inertiac little bug
Parasites breed in the stagnant water of my paralysis.

If I move in my sobriety, sweat a little and flush my system
I should be able to shake this insidious germ
Then I can reach my hand out to the people
Who caught the spiritual flu from me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 28




Chock Full of Nuts


I am not a coffee maker. I come from a long line of non-coffee drinkers and I don’t drink it myself. I made the coffee for my home group once and was asked not to do it again. This is when I realized my service talents must lay elsewhere, and they do. I am a good sponsor for those who want what I have or at least want to attempt what I am trying to get toward. I am a good representative. I can carry the wishes of my group to the district. I am learning to share my story and carry the message and hope to do it well. So, my question to you is to what service do you most naturally bend?





Save a key from your past


*

PASTRY

Like French pastry--sobriety gets richer with each layer
As I investigate these layers I approach the buttery center
The fat seeps through the years
Making boundaries crisp and intimacy velvety.

Ingredients which ordinarily wouldn’t mix
Somehow blend and counter point one another in a flaky shell
Fruits and nuts improve every bite.

Though there are times which are a bit crumbly
Most of the structure is strong and invention skillful
Pastry and sobriety are compositions of strength and brilliance
Which are meant to be taken internally.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 29



When I rise up and when I lay down



In order to be happy with you I have to learn to be happy without you. I gasp at the pain of it and desperately wish that the above statement were not true, but alas, you are gone in a way that I can never reclaim you and to hold on to what of you is still tentatively available I must release my frightened grasp. A wisp of smoke is not the bonfire of our past, but it is what remains and I breathe it in as best I can. Immediately I realize I am holding on again. I breathe you out, let you go. I want to run screaming throwing you from my bonds, yet another of my attempts at control. So, now it’s time to pray. Not a prayer to get my way, not a prayer to make you stay, not a prayer to make you gone, just a prayer to live on my own. G-d help me please to live my life, please guide me away from strife. I am lost and can’t find my way, Father, hold me til the light of day.





Putty the cracks in your hopes

*

SHIMMER

The water ruffles over metallic sheen
Lap after lap screen the view
And still the gilt reflection shines in my eyes.

Hypnotic, the undulance pulls me near
I stand on the edge, gaze then gawk
I follow the underwater movement and iridescent tremolo

I forget place and time, I lose sight of the fact
Gold isn’t the only thing that shimmers
Sometimes that glint is just a fish
.
Life is full of fins and fantasy
My sponsor suggests--I stop looking for my life
In a wishing well.

[LeftWriteFemme]

June 30



Halfway Home


Too far to turn back to the origin, not quite close enough to my destination; I am halfway home. I sometimes forget where I have come from, forget too where I’m bound. I gently remind myself I’m making progress no matter what I know. I am not where I started, not where I am going, but I am not without. There is plenty to do and much to look forward to. I lift my feet one at a time, left then right. I try to keep the steps equally spaced, to prevent past curves and circles. Lost is not as bad as it sounds though I do dream of clarity, stone free shoes and a home cooked meal when I arrive.






Appreciate the bridges in your life


*

REGENERATION

When I am grabbed by the extremity of my thinking
I drop my mind like a reptilian tail.
My feet believe they are in no need of my brain in order to run
Independent flight is the action of the day.

Far from the time and place of my dissection
I find regrowth the problem to be solved.
Unlike a salamanders toe
Can I regenerate my wits to their former ability
Or must I live out my existence with a docked psyche?

My desire curls like a python
But dreams of becoming a phoenix.

[PearlsNLace]

Last week marked 8 years sober.

Somedays I feel like an imposter sitting in the rooms. The alcoholic I was seems so far removed from the person I get to be today.

Then, there are other days where I so clearly see the self absorbed entitled escaper of feelings that I still am- and where my drinking gets replace with a thousand different avenues to run (face book, food, here, work, relationship drama, sleep)

i would not have the network of friends and the connections to inner growth that I have now, without AA. And I seriously doubt I would be alive without all that AA continues to facilitate in my life.

but some days I just want to be "recovered". I dont want to be broken. I dont want to translate the lords prayer with a goddess chant that works for me.

Im finding that today I struggle with the word SHOULD. I feel like by now, I should be more balance, more serene, the promises more fulfilled in my life.

And I know, that throughout the last few years, at times I have been.

This year has been amazing. I found my footing again after a divorce of a terribly brief marriage. I became an RN. I chose to take a risk with my heart with an aquaintance,and find new love with new dynamics to grow exponentially. I let 2 AA commitments down due to overworking and then illness, by not asking for help. I did not have a sponsee for longer than one week for the whole year. I gained 40 pounds. I learned how to change a pump on a washer machine, and how to make matzo balls, and how to plant a garden. I also learned that I could live without a car, even in a town with a cruddy bus system. And I learned, finally, to pick up the phone and call people when Im angry, lonely, to NOT eat ice cream when Im hungry, and to allow for sleep when Im tired (instead of overwhelmed)

Thanks. I appreciate having a place to share, amongst family.

[Greyson]

Last week marked 8 years sober.

It has been 8 years already? Happy Anniversary to you my friend. IMO just by some of your comments made in your post, I can see your personal growth, and self awareness it's showing. :)

This weekend is Living Sober. I will be thinking of you. Again, Congrats!

[Soft*Silver]

there is a new gay AA meeting down the road from me that meets on Tuesdays PM. I am going for this first time tonight! I am really excited! It cuts into my gardening time but there are many things I must nurture in order to gain the harvest...and not all of it is tangible...

[Soft*Silver]

I had a great time at the meeting...great fellowship and alot of good recovery there. I also finally got a sponsor! I have been looking for one and hadnt found her until tonight. She has something good...

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 1




Exercising Futility


Asking the confused for explanation is like asking a blind man the color of the sea. It isn’t that he couldn’t tell you, but how could you be sure? To exercise futility is more than just a game or the words to a song your mother sings when lost or far away. To take the fish out of water and train it on a bike is meaner than I need to be, but isn’t it my right? Just to do things because they can be done or try them because they can’t is more the worse for everyday a tragedy in pants. Puzzle out the little things and practice when you can, for putting on the frazzled mind is cruel to the poor sweet-hearted sot.





Don’t get hooked by excuses




*

SPONTANEOUS GENERATION

Dust under the bed turns into bugs
My grandfather believed in these alchemies of myth.
I thought myself free from the small witchcrafts of threat.

The longer I stay sober,
The more real is the insidious nature of my disease
Mental clutter does breed all manner of
Squirming and chattering vermin.
Every intellectual closet I leave uncleaned
Is a brooding box of contempt,
False pride and bloated ego.

The synchronism of hatchling defects and nursing grudges
Fairytale thinking and firebrand action
Mimic grandpa’s bedbug rantings.

I can never turn my back on unswept philosophy
Or the dross of assumptions I’ve left waiting in piles.
Spiritual house cleaning is all that saves me
From the transmigration of blood sucking life draining phantasm.

Supernatural transformations needn’t plague me if I take right action
The difference between blessings and curses
Is the direction in which you are going.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 2



From Mind to Pen to Paper



What a relief to have exteriorized all the swirl of thought, which normally swarms my mind, waiting to take the stage and run through their numbers. Then like deciphering a code I was able to cross out all the irrelevant and redundant information, leaving me with a clear answer. Once there standing on its own; it was obvious and easily explained how two plus three is five. I just love anything that can be explained all on one hand and there it was tidy and neatly fitted in the nest of my palm, easy to grasp hold, of with my fingers or my mind.





Slip an orange into your dreams



*

NOUN, VERB, ADJECTIVE

Model Sobriety [mode’el sobriite] n,v,adj.
1. Model Sobriety acts like clay
Durable and flexible it molds to any situation.
2. Model Sobriety is like a clotheshorse
Everything you put on it fits and looks good.
3. Model Sobriety is the 24 hour version
Of a life-long process.
4. Model Sobriety is a set of axioms
With which we interpret truth.
5. Model Sobriety is what we put in the window
For other sufferers to see.
6. Model Sobriety is the mirror we use
To learn what is natural.
7. Model Sobriety eliminates extremes
In behavior and thinking.
8. Model Sobriety is the mode
My which we become a channel.
9. Model Sobriety is the definition
In and of my life.

Noun, Verb, Adjective

[LeftWriteFemme]

Last week marked 8 years sober.



Congratulations!!!!! I so identify with you, all you're going through and all the things you've discovered, too. Live is so much sometimes, but so much better sober. I wish you a million blessings on your head!

hugs,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

I had a great time at the meeting...great fellowship and alot of good recovery there. I also finally got a sponsor! I have been looking for one and hadnt found her until tonight. She has something good...

Softness, this is wonderful! So glad you got yourself a new sponsor, that is a tool I would be loathed to do without! It's so great that you have a local gay meeting now it makes a world of difference to me!

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 3



Trouble with Geometry



You are not allowed to get into trouble on purpose, that’s the rule and if you do you will get no sympathy that’s the corollary. Life is too hard to go looking for trouble, running toward danger, whining about self-inflicted pain. The unspoken law of risk taking is that failure is dealt with in silence. Writhing on the ground after sticking your head in a hornet’s nest, leaves me and the world I know to be speechless in your presence. I know you desire consolation from me. All I know to say is that your actions are incongruent with your life.







Stir the atmosphere in your room



*

DISTILLATION
I came into these rooms with a mixed mental makeup
And a polluted physical chemistry.
I have been transformed
But only into tiny droplets.

The drops are not dramatic but the process is.
Distillation of my thinking is a powerful thing
A volatile act of concentration takes place.
As my brain boils over
And the sane is separated from the profane.

Purity is a spiritual gift,
The result of vaporizing my old thoughts.
Many times the night distills the dew
And I am quickly refreshed,
Other times I must cook for quite awhile.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 4



Origins



At the root of it all is darkness. The place from which I grow, the structure that holds me fiercely upright, is pressed on all sides by dirt. When I get right down to it the ethereal leaves and twigs even the branches, do not exist, except for my foundation in the composted death and recycled life; the ground. For is it G-d who rains down from the heavens light and water or is G-d truly living at the center of the earth, warming my toes and securing me to what is real.






Use a mirror for words on the tip of your tongue



*

KEY

I asked for the key to my problems.
My expectation was a metal instrument
With which to unbolt the lock to my desires.

What I was given is a systematic explanation
Of the symbols of the plan of my life.
This has been a wonderful gift
And I have benefited greatly.

But first I have to stop brooding
About the loss of my wished for trinket.
Putting names on my map helps me
Stay off cliffs and out of rivers

The code is broken
I can decipher direction and intent
The composition of life’s offerings
Fit and harmonize in unimagined ways.

It creates archways strong and unbending
Giving me access to reefs of beauty and rest.
I asked for the means to open a door
But gained entry to the world.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 5



Tyler’s Truth


The snow is dying, pouring itself into the creeks and riverbeds. Sacrificing its crystalline structure and community for the ubiquitous oneness of liquid. Drawn by the gravitational lure of the ocean. Unity conquers the frozen individuated whole. Pulled from coast to coast the sun tempts the water’s life, the sea gives up her soul to the sky to be reborn as snow once more.







Open your mouth just to see if a song comes dancing out



*

THE RAINBOW

What is that look of concentration?
Asked my sponsor
I am trying to see the gray.
The gray? She queried.

Yes, I heard at the meeting that between the
Black and white there’s a lot of gray.
Well my darling
I don’t want you to have black and white thinking.

But what lies between black and white
Are all the colors ---the full spectrum
What am I to do with this information?
What do I do with all those colors?
I ask in shock and confusion

For right now, just remember
That all colors aren’t blue.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 6


What is at the Eye of the Storm?


Serenity is the alignment of three knowledges
1. Knowing that I am not without skill, talent, gifts.
2. Knowing that I am not without community, connection, comfort.
3. Knowing that I am not without G-d, whether or not I believe G-d is able to intervene.
When I am in full or even partial possession of these three I am safe from storm, or no, drought or no, fiery hairy pestilence and without this knowledge everything is storm, drought and pestilence, no matter what anyone else says or all evidence to the contrary. I will make my own mess when bereft. I will pay a large price for ignoring the facts and the lion’s share of this loss is loss of my serenity.





Disrupt the effectiveness of negativity



*

THE BEAR

Living with my disease is like having
A sleeping Bear in the house.
I knew it was there, could hear it snore.

I never felt comfortable or able to turn my back
On it and get on with my life.
I felt under certain threat.

Fearing the bear would wake
When my attention was elsewhere
I proceeded to poke it with a stick.

I prodded it to wakefulness
In retrospect it is clear I was unprepared
For a wakeful bear.

Even with my full attention fixed on the brute
The Bear, which is my disease, roamed about the house
And made forays out into the world.

I had no plan or tool for these events
Finding a legion of people who had worked out
Living arrangements with their Bears
I happily joined their ranks.

My Bear wakes and sleeps at its will
But I am no longer afraid or unskilled
At handling this creature
Today I am so grateful for the Bear in my life.

I would never want a life without it
I live in a world filled with Bears
And would be at a loss as how to exist
If not for the practice and success
With the Bear that is my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 7


Keeping My Seat


I can sit through this. I can do it even when I don’t remember that I want to. I will get through this no matter how it tweaks me and I squirm in my seat. In spite of the unfairness of it all, I can do what is right, because that is what is best for me. Acting out or giving up are options that I have, but I like me too much to choose so poorly. When this is all settled I will still have me no matter what else I gain or lose. If I don’t like me anymore I have lost everything, if I can hold my head up, proud of my behavior this is the most valuable gain. Love is only love if I am still here to feel it, so I will sit still.






Set group goals for your tiny terrors


*

TIME TABLES

I know the train is coming
And I want to read the schedule
I hear rumors that the convoy going to
Feeling will arrive in two years.

The five-year expedition to getting my brains back
Seems unlikely but is often commented on in meetings.
Excursions to far-off destinations such as
Functional and Reasonable have me on my feet
In gleeful anticipation.

Still I wish for a clear mapping of time.
I feel I could leave off the worrying
About the How of it if only I could
Be sure of the When.

This cavalcade of adventure
Would be so much more palatable
With a well written itinerary.

[Soft*Silver]

I am enjoying my new home group and new sponsor. I so love being part of AA again. It is so right! I love going to discussion meetings...which I use to avoid at all costs prior to my relapse.

I shared last night about my upcoming surgeries and how afraid I am of the pain management part of it. Meds. I felt so much more secure after talking about this...and know I am not going to be alone while I am recouping from my surgery.

I am so grateful I made it back...

[LeftWriteFemme]

Welcome back!!!!!!!!

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 8


Tooth Fairies and Super Heroes


I never know who the tooth fairy is going to be. Who might be the one person who will know CPR in my hour of need. Which unlikely friend will whisper to me the secret code to my mental lock. I have been caught off guard by the power of the most unlikely wallflowers. It is important for me not to prejudge, but even more important to leave space for surprise and the delightful aptitude of those around me and for that matter from strangers on the street. Also, it is good for me to remember there is change in my pocket and a resuscitation certificate in my wallet.




Repattern the impressions made on you

*
FAR OFF PLACES

Meetings too near home are unsatisfying to me.
On smooth simple days, local meetings are fine,
I catch a meeting, just slip it in.
On rough days I yearn for an out of town meeting.

After these many 24’s I come to realize I need the ride
As much as I need the meeting.
Like a discontented baby,
I need more that just a trip around the block.

The comfort of taking flight in my car
Is equaled by arriving at some far off AA meeting
Fresh faces and a new take on old woes
Are an antidote to my colicky attitude.

The drive back offers a sense of triumphant homecoming
A good meeting can be had anywhere
Sometimes I just need a change of place
Or a change of pace.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 9




Night Clothes and Bed Clothes


Is there any indulgence quite like that of clean sleepwear warm from the laundry? Pulling on jammies over squeaky clean skin and the little shutter that goes with tired hedonism is a pleasure without formed words, left for grateful sounds and little moans. Hard work creates more than stability, more than cash flow and more than mere exhaustion, hard work changes my mind about delight and allows me to see it in the most obvious, most subtle of places. My bed has become haven, hospital, refuge and I am tucked up in my nest and safely out of my mind.



Tidy around your messy emotions


*

THE WATER YOU DRINK

Anyone who has to be drug to water
Doesn’t deserve a drink. said my sponsor
What about raising the bottom? I question.

I’m not talking about that
I am discussing people you try to convince into recovery
The folks you try to accommodate
.
The ones you attempt to bend reality for
These are the type who will piss in your well
Let me be clear--------

I am not concerned with individuals who piss in the pool
Which is rude and disgusting
But basically not life threatening
.
When your well is defiled
When the place you draw your drinking water from
Is used as a chamber pot--- your life is at risk.

Don’t ever pull your pants down
Over someone’s fresh water
Don’t let anyone squat with their bare ass over your sobriety

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 10


Special


Is it the wiring between my ears, the size of the pump in my chest? The difference which can be seen when you look from me to the neighbors? I know that you feel me to be special. I feel me to be special, too, just like you. Defining that thing, that combination which unlocks the mundane is more than just an attempt to point a finger, it’s a search for that little light. Close and closer we pull together and that is special but now I will whisper it, tell you the secret truth is my ability to play. Come play with me!




Whistle with the tune the wind brings you

*






IT’S MY PARTY

The party I was throwing myself in addiction
Was nothing but a very long wake.
There were no smiles, only murmurs of what might have been.
I was filled with tears I couldn’t cry
And mourned my death as I caused it.

When I took off my little black dress
And stepped from this shroud
I closed the bar, clicked the switch and the dirge stopped.
The funeral ended prematurely
I walked into AA where I learned to be the life of the party.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 11

Let God Do What?


I hesitate to let go to G-d because I fear that G-d doesn’t like me, or likes me now, but doesn’t like me all the time. I think I got this belief from being the only child of parents who don’t like children. It never mattered how good I was, how smart or thoughtful, well informed, helpful, I always ended up being treated like I was a burden, someone to be endured. If only I was likeable, I would think to myself and try recreating me to become….what? Finally I settled on indispensable, if I could make myself necessary, then my life would be okay. People would need me therefore they would want me. What I discovered is that people who can’t live without me end up resenting me. By the time I was so important to others I was no longer important to me, so I didn’t need G-d’s help because I didn’t need anything, I didn’t exist. Over time what I have settled on are a few truths: People who don’t like kids shouldn’t have them. And I need G-d’s help to learn how to want to be here on this planet since I was not brought to earth by people who wanted me.



Title your dreams
*

SYMPTOMATIC BOUQUET

My bouquet of symptoms took root in alcoholism
I displayed these blossoms to few.
I thought I could keep these problem posies to myself.

No need to worry
Everyone has a bit of manure in their lives.
Mine hardly seem strange.

Planted in addiction things grew in a dramatic way
Pruning became unworkable,
Drastic measures were required.

Uprooted and exposed these virulent stalks
Created the need for help from better gardeners than I.
Thinned and repotted these character traits
Have fruited many a lovely harvest.

None of which could have happened
Had I been left in the family plot.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 12



A Year for Me



The world is my mollusk and I am its pennyweight paragon, witty girl that I am. I have spent enough time surrounded by wet feet and confining shells, all held at the bottom of the sea. This is a year for me. I am going to climb over the rim of my briny brink and try myself against the fearsome winds of chance. Although souse is buoyant I feel strong enough to stand my ground. Time has come for life, open and raw, but I shall leave the clams to the casino.







Allow ticklish issues to make you laugh

*


HOLD THE LINE

Relax is not the same as give up.
Unwind is not fray.
Letting go doesn’t mean never grab hold.

It is important to have moderation in all things
Including moderation, exuberance and enthusiasm,
These are wonderful in their season
Too much and I could get an adrenaline addiction.

Make sure your song has more than one note
And make sure you sing more than one song in your life.
Change, interest and excitement are vital to my existence

If you take all the spikes and ridges
Out of your life line
It means you’re Dead.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 13



Old Nasty


My addiction is like a Percheron, bigger and more powerful than I am, but what I have learned is that if I treat this horse with due respect and a guiding hand from my recovery and my Higher Power I can harness the energy of my illness and use its’ force to make my life work. I can never be the master of alcoholism, but I can see it for what it is; an overgrown instinct looking for an outlet. When I am given my way out I take this beast with me and when I value that partnership we are both safe. When I have tried to lock it in a stall and run far from the barn, it kicks my life down. When I put my head in the yoke willingly, together we are lead and we do the work which is fulfilling and rich. I was meant to work in a team, I am grateful to have a teammate.




Close your eyes and look at yourself
*




QUICK-------SAND !!!!!!

Don’t ask how deep the quicksand is. Said my sponsor.
It’s your job to get out of it--not quantify it.
I’m not sure how to get out.
Will you come and get me. I ask her?

No Darling, if I get in we will both be down for the count
The only chance we have for me to help you
Is if I stay out of the morass
With my feet firmly on solid ground.

What if you can’t get me out. I cry?
I will go get more help.
What if all of AA can’t get me out?

Angel, my hope is, that if there was no way out
You wouldn’t even know you were stuck.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 14


Wales



It is safe for the houses to sleep in the streets, but not for me. I cannot follow that which is so right and regular for mundane things. I am a jagged piece and it is hard for me to find my place.

The sun comes though everyone’s windows and peeks around the blinds left down. I must mind my manners and not be a nuisance or a bother; draw no undue attention to my brightness carry a basket to hide it in.

And while every river can drown its sorrows in the rush of the downhill sweep to the sea. I must stand here stock cold sober and bear the pain appointed to me.



Curl your fingers into the tangles of life and hang on

*



WAKE

Don’t worry that you might spoil the procession
By getting out of your coffin.
You don’t need to lie there waiting for the lid to close.

People will walk past saying ---so sad---too bad
But don’t lie instate just to keep them from feeling
Their trip was a waste.

Just because the crypt has been purchased
Doesn’t mean you’re ready to go.
There are still opportunities to dance.

Don’t die for love, glory or pride.
Don’t die before your time.
Death is only an honor
If you lived every preceding second.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 15


Sympathetic Strings


A guitar with 28 strings generates much sympathy from the cords which were not strummed. Pluck is contagious and inspires much harmony and verve in the vicinity in which it shows face. Sympathetic strings vibrate in response to the jangling around them but are tuned to their own notes. Much distortion adds to the depth of the sound created by this throng. Can you hear my life? How a disturbance in my life rings in the lives which surround me? How I twitch and chime when things are twanged in the lives of my neighbors, my friends, my kin. We make the music of care, the discord of reaction. To every move there is a sound, to every sympathy a harmony.





Surprise yourself with the light in your own eyes

*




THE LIVING DREAM

Throwing yourself into the river in pieces
Drowns you as crumbs.
Casting aside love and longing makes you less
In your heart and your soul stops beating.

Pitching your tent with critics and complainers
Leaves you out in the cold on warm summer evenings.
Crest the hill to meet the rising sun
Orbit the constellations without hesitation.

Petit point the pictures in your mind
Then set them to music.
The world is your dream
Live it into reality.

[deeperstill]

Hi all. I'm new to bfp, still finding my way around. I'm a friend of Lois, not Bill though. Is there a different thread for that, or is it ok if i hang out here a bit?

[LeftWriteFemme]

Hi all. I'm new to bfp, still finding my way around. I'm a friend of Lois, not Bill though. Is there a different thread for that, or is it ok if i hang out here a bit?



Deeperstill,

I couldn't find a thread for friends of Lois, but you could start one if you wanted to have a thread just for Alanon members. You are always welcome here, whenever you wish and for as long as you wish. Glad you're here. Hope you have a great night!

Sherrie

[deeperstill]

:bunchflowers:

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 16



Rounder



Back again, yes, that I see, but change is not the same as return. What I know of you is your past. I believe the past because I know it. If there is a new you to meet that remains to be seen. Even a chameleon sheds its skin, though I doubt its intrinsic nature is altered much in the process. So flash your smile and wind your words into the thoughts of those with whom you have no history. I’ve been exposed before, the virus doesn’t conquer me, I am immune. Once bitten makes me wary when you come around again.






Pick a color and let it find you all day

*
TO SLOOP

When I was a tanker- I carried such a heavy load.
The diesel cycle ran at regular intervals
And my internal temperature was terrific.
The fuel sprayed and things went round and round
The cost was high.

Now my principal means of propulsion
Is the wind in my sails.
Conversion was difficult
Though I found the rigging and mast a fascination
The ballast was a heavy load to bear.

Cargo is something short lived
To be cast off at the next port.
Incumbent discretion is welded to my keel
And will go with me to every harbor.

As a tankard, liquid was transported or consumed.
As a cutter, dependability keeps me tacking into the wind.
Now my outlay is low and my rewards are high
I carry only what I need, I am free, a sloop upon the sea.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 17



Horse Play


The sequestered equestrian rides alone through the night; the wood is as quiet as she. Passing no one; speaking not a word, she slips into the paddock without a nicker or a neigh. I long to be just as she, not silent sentinel, but living a whist fleet life, a power unto myself. What stands between are my hurt feelings and my longing to be loved. I can’t blame myself for either, but work to heal and grow. Nagging need is a pestilence I will be well rid of; the irredeemable past is luggage for a catalog, not for hauling on my back. I will mount up and ride my great round stead, the night is mine when I am ready the path is there I know.





Imagine an ostrich in flight


*
GRAFT

The bottom has been cut out
My underpinnings stripped from me..
Budding ambition whittled down, transplanted,
Saddled onto the rock like stock of other peoples sobriety.
Taped to the leg of my sponsor I heal and grow.

I splice my thinking with the rich ideas of improved living
I cling to the cleft, divisions made from the people,
Places and things of my past leave me split,
Primed for fresh growth and opportunity.

Never again do I need return to the sordid
Acquisition of power or control
There is no gain when I am bolted to position and influence
Graft is graft for good or bad
I don’t have to grow where I was planted.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 18


Cicatrix and Love



The mark left by injury is indelible though it may heal, the consequence remains. This is also true of love. I am branded and changed by your affection. The improvement wrought in me does not leave when you do. If you stop loving me, can you no longer remember my name, my face, my sigh; I am better for having had your love if only for a short time. Good medicine offers lasting results; the miracle of your love is my health. The blush in my cheek, the revitalization I feel is traceable to you, to the days you held me in your heart and the nights you held me in your arms. And though I want you back in my world the best of you lives on in my life.



Slice time with your thoughts and peer through the pieces

*



JUXTAPOSITION

Right next to this world is the globe that I came from.
The landmarks are similar but these spheres have little in common
The angle of refraction illuminates the place of my origin
The source of this light is legend.

On my home planet, the existence of sobriety is cast off as myth.
I held onto this tale with my heart.
I slipped the gravitational bonds of crazy one night
By the glow of the ready button on the coffee pot.

Here and there intersect at only one point
A room with some chairs and a circle with a triangle.
The meeting was on step one
And it was a good place to jump in.

[Soft*Silver]

as I was pulling up the incredible amount of weeds that popped up since my back problem and the trip to the ER, it dawned on me that I was carrying a load of resentments. So as I pulled the weeds out, I was working on my resentment..how? By praying for the people I resent. I dont want to add fuel to the fire by adding madness and hurt to the problems, nor do I want my soil to fester with it either. Afterwards, as sweat rolled off me I watered everything a damn good drench to wash away the lingering and nourish the good I put in there..and in me...[/

[Tommi]

as I was pulling up the incredible amount of weeds that popped up since my back problem and the trip to the ER, it dawned on me that I was carrying a load of resentments. So as I pulled the weeds out, I was working on my resentment..how? By praying for the people I resent. I dont want to add fuel to the fire by adding madness and hurt to the problems, nor do I want my soil to fester with it either. Afterwards, as sweat rolled off me I watered everything a damn good drench to wash away the lingering and nourish the good I put in there..and in me...[/

Wow softness. Thank you for the post. It makes sense, and is a great visual. i think I need to weed tomorrow. :byebye:

[deeperstill]

my ex. she is my friend and my former beloved. she is deep deep in denial and i swear it is breaking my heart. every time i think she has come to that place of understanding/that place where she finally sees, she says or does something to remind me that in fact she does not see. it comes in waves, this pain and anger and frustration and need to save her. i must not intervene again. this is my mantra for today.

[LeftWriteFemme]

my ex. she is my friend and my former beloved. she is deep deep in denial and i swear it is breaking my heart. every time i think she has come to that place of understanding/that place where she finally sees, she says or does something to remind me that in fact she does not see. it comes in waves, this pain and anger and frustration and need to save her. i must not intervene again. this is my mantra for today.



I believe that powerlessness is often the biggest thing in the world, or at least it feels that way to me some-days.........good luck with letting go. It's a great gift when you can give it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 19



Rings of Color against Butterflies



Resistance I can accomplish directly; impedance requires magnetism from an alternating world. I can drag my heels and live life in a sandpaper shack making everything a chore, but what it takes to throw furniture in the path of progress, slamming doors and turning off the lights that is more than I can do on my own. This takes the cooperation of my disease and me, the monkey-hoop, which is effort and clever repartee. Look how well we do it, too. Distracting possibilities, staving off humanity and the humane, may not sound like much, but it takes up our whole day; goodness is such a persistent little grub. It takes a concerted effort to prevent it from chrysalis and failing that, still more determination to make sure it doesn’t fly.




Listen to music the way you walk through a garden

*


2 CHAIRS

Math is the language which moves
Closest to the speed of my brain.
The language of recovery slows my thinking
So I am more than numbers and clicks.

I need not race my mind in an effort to win.
I am my prize.
The victory is mine if I can embrace who I am.

I can use numbers to figure whether I am more or less
But owning who I am must be given
To the talk of the soul and heart.

My nashamah is not an astral projection
To be theorized but the seat of my emotions.
The only way to discover myself
Is through deep and loving conversation
So I had best pull up two chairs.

[deeperstill]

I believe that powerlessness is often the biggest thing in the world, or at least it feels that way to me some-days.........good luck with letting go. It's a great gift when you can give it.

Thank you LWF. I will keep that thought uppermost in my mind tonight.(f)

[Soft*Silver]

Today as I was sitting in my lawn chair and watering my garden, I was fussing over how many weeds I missed. Some over there..some there..one right in front of me...and you all know those weeds were symbolic of my resentments...so it was really nagging at me that I had missed so many of them...

until..I dont know what caused me to look up...but I did.

Instead of looking down, I looked up...

and saw that one of my suflowers had finally bloomed...

its not enough to just see part of your "inventory"

sometimes you need to see all of it...

or the best of it instead of the harshness of it...

if we always look in one direction, we will never see the sunflowers...

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 20


Taking the Field



Humor is an illustration; a joke an explanation. I learn far more from the smiles than the jeers. Laughter carries me; an action, which tears can’t always accomplish. It is hard to live with constant descent, but wit is a quick impassioned friend. Thoughtless conformity is an evil companion I prefer the company of those who play. Life is too hard from the sidelines; I would rather take the field.



Find a pit crew before you crash

*

DEFINITIONS

I am close to my Higher Power
But I have no words to describe It.
I have found it best to say nothing unless asked.

When I do speak it is always the path I took
Or the way I held my face.
I know the things, which changed
And the wind, which blew.

This is not the sketch most people seek.
My skin is brown and my smile broad.
This is not from over exposure to beams of light.

Closeness warms me, I glow from standing near.
I know the face and form is different for everyday
I must not stop for definitions.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 21



Rules

There are rules about breaking rules. You can do it this way, but must not that way. Cross this line and you get dragons; cross that line you get a good natured slap on the wrist. Beneath the reflective surface of law I have found many shoals and sandbars; rocks and outcroppings, layer upon layer of blue depth I can only partly chart. I also find inquiries in this matter meet with the same reaction as asking about: yeti, crop circles, or what was kept in Uncle Author’s spare room. Those willing to talk about it I often fear to hear from and the reluctant to speak I fear to pursue. You see this investigation is just another thing from under that sea.






Look before you listen

*

MY BABIES

Too often I have abandoned the infants
Of my creativity to doorways and charities
Having little patience I did not raise them
To their intended station.

Joyful parentage need not stop
At the cutting of the cord.
Down playing the importance of each birth
I leave beauty and art to be foundlings
And the province of others.

I can share the guardianship of these precious gifts
And be more than a broodmare for cunning and craft.
I have neglected things
For the promise of each new conception.

Overpopulation weakens the body of work
And leaves my portfolio listless and immature.

[TenderKnight]

First of all, Thank you all for posting in this thread.. I have been reading quietly for a couple of months now.. I have been thinking about starting a "Friends of Jimmy" thread, I'm mainly dealing with my opiate (spl) addiction.. I stopped cold turkey last friday because I didn't trust myself to go to T.J. to get some to ramp myself down. I have to say, opiate withdrawl sucks ass.. Hard.. lol

I asked a co-worker to take all my stash and booze lastnight.. She isn't in the program but cared enough to do it for me.. It still amazes me how friggin SCARED i was to let her have it all.. I've set down all my spiritual tools, but am fumbling around for them.. My body feels like crap and I'm embarressed to be in withdrawl. I will be going to some real/time meetings soon, but right now, I am having issues just getting out of bed..

Blah.. I'm going to be ok, but needed to share on a more public level and the fact that you all can't see me right now helps. Thanks.

Tony, sick addict who is getting better, ever so slowly..

[LeftWriteFemme]

Good luck TenderKnight,

Please be very careful as you withdraw, get some in person help as soon as you can and know that this thread and the people who read it are here any time.

best wishes,

Sherrie

[Soft*Silver]

TK, what an immense amount of courage you are displaying by getting off the drug. I also suggest you be very careful with your withdrawal and seek professional help if you need it. Go to ER if you have to. Dont just suffer through silently. And going to meetings IS a good thing. It will give you contact with others who have gone thru what you are going thru. They can help you. This is a WE program, not a ME program. You arent alone anymore. We are out there...just reach for us...

good luck honey and boy are you top of my prayer list!

[TenderKnight]

Thank you Sherrie and softness.. As well as to the others that have contacted me privately.. Thankfully, the withdrawl isn't too severe.. Lots of loose stool and feeling like i have a crappy flu.. Been taking imodium and lots of water.. If it were worse, I would check myself in.. This isn't my first time with this.. lol. You know how we learn the tricks.

I will be calling my sponcer soon and am off saturday.. There is a pretty big speaker meeting at the Alano club down the street, will connect with some more folks there. I guess my main issue is pride and shame right now.. Hence, I'm talking about it here first.. I was over a year clean before this.. I know what I need to do, it's just hard to hand over my power.. I have been repeating the first step and have been praying for the courage to let go.. Will take time, but I know I can get there if I just take the first steps.

Thank you for being here and for your thoughts.

-Tony

[deeperstill]

Dear TK,

sending my warmest thoughts in your direction (f)

[Soft*Silver]

right now, TK, you are my hero.,,

[TenderKnight]

deeperstill (love the name, btw :) ), thank you for your warm wishes and thoughts.. it helps :)

softness, I don't feel like a hero, but I thank you.. lol.. You know, being a lil out of the fog has let me see just how much people do care about me.. Tonight at work, my co-worker went to the store to get me soup.. and then cooked it for me, lol. She knows how bad I've been going through it..

Wow.. I just felt grateful.. lol.. Weird, it's been a couple of months. :/

It's going to be a raw time for me coming up.. But you know, I'm glad I almost have 24 hours right now.. So much is going through my brain, and I have to admit to looking forward to meeting with my sponcer again.. He's been my sponcer for almost two years now and he is a true friend.. My shame has kept me from contacting him, other then a short call here and there.. He told me that he loved me no matter what and if I just needed a friend, without meetings or steps, I had it. I am grateful for having him in my life.

I guess I just got all kinda of bogged down with myself and *my* plans that I ignored my Higher Power's plans.. But then, maybe this is part of it too.. I don't know. (keeps expecting the timer to go off on my share, lol). In any case, I wanted some play time and thought that being "free" to do whatever i wanted was the answer.. I was actually just locking myself up into my head and my apartment. Blah..

Anyway.. I am sober tonight. First time I can say that in a few months now. It feels good, but weird.. I'm also still in withdrawl, so I'm starving but can't get much down.. :( Soups and stuff work, but the thought of solid food turns my stomach.. Crackers work if I'm slow with them. Like I said, like the flu but without the fever and cough, lol.

Thank you both again.. Your words and thoughts have and continue to help me.

In Light,
Tony

[Soft*Silver]

when my fog lifted, I was disappointed at first, because all I saw was the sun rising. It wasnt until later that I realized it was the first sun rise I had seen in years.My senses were so deadened I didnt appreciate the gift of a new day. To me, when I use, I am like a spoiled kid who just expects to be handed things, like a sun rise. It didnt dawn on me that even tho it rose every day, I had to take notice and appreciate it.

your fog has lifted. You have always had people around you. Now you appreciate how they care about you...

enjoy those crackers...they are god's gift to the suffering person with an addiction. Thats right....god whispered in some executive's ear and soon enough, those crackers were just waiting for you....

yes sir..thats just how it happened...:moonstars:

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 22



The Landscape of Words



Paint takes time to dry; I work with words. I say azure and you are there with me, even if I am far from this mortal coil, my pigments stay fresh as long as you know blue, as long as you can hear me, read me, see me. I paint 6X8 cell and we are imprisoned together, trapped, til I tell you of the key I slipped into your shoe. I love the flow of watercolor, adore the mushy paste of oil, but nothing beats the world we paint and repaint here on this page.




Explain why frogs don’t have wings


*

GAME PLAYING

My Higher Power doesn’t play me like a board game.
Doesn’t monopolize my time or put me in jeopardy.
My trouble is my own.

I pursue trivia at my discretion.
I take or reject risk at will.
I scrabble my thoughts and am sorry when I make mistakes
.
But don’t expect to live in a candy land.
When I stick my hand in a mouse trap
Or fall down shoots and need to climb up ladders.

I know the game may not be over
But it is far too late to play let’s make a deal.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 23



Before Ophelia


Young women drown themselves before Shakespeare immortalized, memorialized Ophelia. But having a poster child changes us. Cautionary tale or rallying cry, Ophelia is a hand to hold on dark cold days when the light is hard to find and everything seems bent toward destruction. Not that I think she solved anything with her despondent act just that she stands in the familiar frame I find myself in from time to time. When I imagine I’ve invented the wheel it makes it harder to step down and walk. Ophelia’s fate makes it easier to get off depression’s bus and find my way back home.





Press your excuses for truth

*

TOOTH FAIRY

I slide my hand under the pillow
And am disappointed not to find a quarter.
I feel I deserve one though I didn’t leave a tooth.
I did leave my bite, I’ve toned down my bark a bit too.
It has not been easy.

I’ve spent much of my life snapping and growling
At the world around me.
I have shortened the leash on these reactive behaviors
Many I have put to bed all together.

Improved conduct is prize enough
But I surely would enjoy a winged visitor
If only just for fun.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 24


Speak!


Are there songs a bird must not sing while communing with the flock? Do fish learn to restrain their expressions while schooling? Or are we the only animal versed in the language of taboo? I wonder when I hear the cows lowing in the night are they giving whispered voice to things they longed to moo about all day. I know what to keep inside, things too flamboyant for out of doors. I understand to keep body and soul together I must keep down and hush, but when I complain to my pup does she comprehend or is it just blah, blah, blah, in her world of speak it like it is?




If your pallet is limited broaden your ideas

*


SHARING

Please take a bite of my PB&J,
I made it myself, it is fine as it is
I slathered the bread and cut it neatly
Still I can’t help but want to offer some to you.

I know to stand and smile next to you
Watch you lick the peanut butter from the roof of your mouth
Have you dab jelly from the corner of my lips
Will make this sandwich even better.

You bring so much to this meal
Something bright and clever --you bring you.
I can pull things together and set it all up
But somehow my creation is never quite complete
Until I share it with you.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 25


Dear G-d

I need help. I need help availing myself of the help you have provided me. I am embarrassed to lack the ability to complete all the steps necessary for achieving the goals you have set before me. I see now that it is always my turn with you and I can stop standing aside believing that I have had your attention and must now do without. I do not want to ask for more; I don’t want to seem greedy. I forget that you know my heart and that you trust me. I am going to make that a two-way street, maybe a four-lane highway. I need help, thank you for being help full.

Love,

Sherrie





The obvious is sometimes invisible

*


ACCESS

Writing to you my Sweet,
Allows me to give what I have available
At the moment it comes into my possession.

You reading lets you invite me in,
When you are ready or willing
Possibly both.

I can store succulent treasure for you
Without the least consideration of
Freezer burn or apathy.

You are here when I want you,
Yearning and prepared
I am yours for the taking

In the classroom, the bedroom
Or even in your bath
I can whisper or shout to you.

I can rant or tell jokes to you
You can embrace or ignore me
Introduce me to your friends
Or keep me your own personal province.

We are intimates
Because I bare my soul to you
And you take me into yours.

[LeftWriteFemme]

:hamactor::hamactor::hamactor::hamactor::hamactor:



Hello friends of Bill, Lois, Jimmy and many others,

We are working to put together places and times for meetings. June has offered us her suite at 10:30 AM following the 8 to 10 coffee set up there. I would like an idea of the numbers of people planning to attend meetings at the Reunion; depending on the numbers of members and time preferences, Tommi and I are more than willing to make our room available also.
Please private message me and let me know so I can give June a heads up about days and times for the schedule.

Thank you very much,

Sherrie





:byebye::byebye::byebye::byebye::byebye:

[PearlsNLace]

I am finding that Im in a new space of vulnerability right now. I get that it means Im at a great opportunity to grow, but it sucks at the moment.

I was in full blown HALT mode yesterday. And found that I wanted a beer after work. I did what I have been trained to do. I got on the phone. Talked to folk who get it.
Then I ate. Went to a meeting. Talked to my sponsees. Wrote to my sponsor.
Did some step work.
Rested.
Later, I went to a fair festival. I told my partner Im having a rough time, and that the beer was a trigger for me. He listened. It mattered.
I didnt drink.

But Im humbled again today. I am reminded that years dont really matter. Ive only really got today.

I chose rest over a meeting today. I did speak with several in program though. I am going to a meeting tomorrow. Im glad I have a service commitment to see through.

Im on my way to bed. Still feeling vulnerable, fragile. I broke into tears tonight when paphigleo got home, over little things. None of it felt little at that moment. And I only 2/3rds believe it was little now. But I was able to talk. Our precious program has given me the skill set to talk. It hurt to do so. But we got through it. Ive got a good partner, and he hears me out.

Im facing some body issues right now that are really messing with my head. I get that we hold stuff in our noggins till we can deal with and process it. Im glad I have friends, and a structure of support and tools to help me be present for it.

My life is damn good today, and I know it. The problems I have are pretty fancy. I do know that. Im taking a deep breath as I write it all. The problems still hurt though. Im not writing this for pity or for any response at all. Im writing cause the butch femme community has been a part of my network for years, an integral part of the sober person I am today.

On another note, we wont be able to go to the reunion because we just cant cover the travel+time from work+ and a room for just us. On one hand, Im disapointed. On the other, my fatigue makes me think resting in my own back yard may be just where Im suppose to be. I guess I really need to keep focusing on today. I just keep bouncing out.

I may go to work tomorrow with my 24 hour coin in my pocket...

[TenderKnight]

Day 4 clean and sober.. I'm starting to feel alllll the aches and pains I've numbed out the last few months.. But you know, I am grateful for them. I'm grateful to be really TIRED and not just stoned or high or so friggin full of pain meds that all I can do is toss and turn and scrach my back until it bleeds or being tired and not being able to sleep because I took too many pills and am pacing my apartment.. I'm thanking God for the stabbing pain I get in my side every night toward the end of my shift.. I know that it is part of me and part of my life.

I talked with a friend in the Program today for an hour and half.. Really connected with him and it felt awesome. I am grateful for my life and being able to FEEL again.. The good stuff and the bad stuff.. It is all part of me and my life and I get to feel it again.

Meeting with my sponcer tomorrow and going to start my steps over again.. I am also going to try to catch a meeting, no.. Scratch that, i will be going to a meeting.. There is an NA round robin type meeting a block away.. I haven't been to an NA meeting in over a year.. I think that is where I need to be.

Thank you all for writing and sharing in this thread.. realtime Fellowship is vital, but this thread has been saving my ass from falling off.. Thank you.

-Tony

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 26



Keds

If I gave a child a pair of sneakers would I refuse to help them to tie them on? Would I want this kid to wear them open, tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous? Or worse would I want the child to have to lug the sneakers around; the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift and protect it from use or wear? I hope that I would not be this sick, misguided or deranged. I have to say that I have given up believing in a crazy G-d but this doesn’t mean that I can’t drive G-d crazy with my insane behavior. I have to stick my feet inside my shoes and lift my foot for help and open my mouth to ask, then pay close attention so I can learn to do it on my own; all the while not beating myself up that I can’t do it already.






Treat adventure as a requirement for life



*


STUBBORN

When the donkey won’t move forward
It’s time to stop running
No need to make an ass of myself
Through force or coercion.

The dumb animal may be mute but its actions speak.
Reluctance is a warning.
If my animal nature is balking
Listening not shoving in the preferred course.

Super intelligence can’t best good horse sense.
I must stand with my intuition
That creature depends on my survival for life.

[TenderKnight]

I just wanna say.. Program hugs kick ass, in the very best way.. and it was a big group and i got like 20 good, real hugs :)

So glad I went to that meeting :)

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 27



Un-imbedded

This week I have decided to be braver about where I invest my time, not all of it mind you but a portion of my diligent yet strangely unproductive time. I have to say I am realizing that I hide in pretty much every area of my life and that is no way to live and a really bad example to offer. The worst thing about hiding is it doesn't keep me safe; it just subjects me to different evils. It reminds me of that poor reporter who was imbedded in a tank and he died from not moving and his blood pooling and dehydration, so the tank kept him from getting his head shot off, but killed him in a different way, so in the end he wasn't safe and neither am I. I believe in prudence as a good policy, I do, but there is much that could make me stronger, happier, better, if I lift my head a bit and reach out my hand.









Defrost things which freeze you in place

*


ALICE

Because I even wore out my welcome
at the Mad Hatters house,
I can sit on my hands at my sponsors table
And listen, listen, listen.

If I had been able to make a place for myself
with the looking glass folk
I could never let myself loose my eccentricities
And join in the fellowship.

Going down further than a rabbit hole
I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies
For time or card tricks.

No more illusions for me.
I am awake and shaded
by the tree of AA branching over me
Sisters I didn’t know take my hand.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 28


Clap

I know how to put my hands together, but I am unable to clap. It’s not that my palms can’t locate each other; it’s that I cannot find the beat. I sing; lilting rhythms rolling from my tongue. I keep time and drum the tattoo of jingle dress dance songs, but when my hand comes against its mate something is off. Faltering nuance plays havoc with my exuberant desire. I want to join the crowd in syncopated applause, yet my brain drops out. Because the gap is too far to leap I must walk around to the other side and by then I’ve lost the moment, the world has moved on without me. I used to think I needed to run my routine a little faster, but now I realize I need to learn to leap the gap and trust the beat to find me.








Engender your actions with optimism

*

PRESTO

Just because I own pointy boots
Doesn’t mean I can corral the cows.
I have in my possession many things
Of subtle intent but they can’t transform me.

The wings from Halloween don’t make me an angel.
The Big Book on the shelf won’t sober me up.
Nothing holds the magic to change me.
I can only change with help.

Action, action and more action
Is the magicians slide of hand.
It slides my hand from glass to grace
I don’t need to pull a rabbit from my hat.

[TenderKnight]

Just wanted to share a little maricle with this thread..

Last night I was feeling REALLY crappy after work.. Angry, in physical pain, and just in a foul mood.. I started repeating the serenity prayer in my head and started feeling better.. Then as I was repeating it, I spot an old man shuffling toward me wrapped in a blanket.. Now, it's almost 1am at this point and kinda dead outside.. I pass him and nod and he stops and calls after me.

I stop and turn around, ask what he wants.. He asks me to call 911 for him because someone just beat him up. I call and stand with him while we wait.. I don't think he was beaten up physically, but he was very drunk and in a lot of pain.. His wife had just passed not too long ago.. I got him to a place where he could sit down and talked with him until the EMTs arrived..

On the rest of the walk home, I was just filled with awe and gratitude, even if i was in pain and tired.. But for the grace of God go I.. I am very grateful for my life and this Program. I'm also very grateful for my reconnection with my Higher Power.. Feeling very humble and grateful here.

-Tony

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 29





The Regulator


Face to face the clock stares me down. I nearly dare the mismatched hands to beat me at my part. Their never-ending round-house drops me to the ground. My foot work is no equal for eternity. Fancy days and star lit nights distract me from the fight I’m losing, directing my thoughts to what I gain. If I turn with the hours dwelling in the moments the clock and I are friends, no more mad-dogging, no time to lose. Time is with me till the end, it is not the death of me; it’s the time of my life.








Smuggle your sweetness out from under your cynicism


*

PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

There is a penny in the bathtub.
I wonder who stood in there with loose change
Possibly confused it for a wishing well the penny was tossed in.

The stories I could tell, the hopes that tantalize my mind
Elves and leprechauns, dreamers and optimists,
All trundle through my thinking.

When I don’t know the answers
At least now I can look for the best,
The sweetest thoughts.

I don’t run to the dark and threatening disasters
I have lost the lease to my personal black cloud
The one which used to follow wherever I went.

I can smile now
And think of pennies from Heaven
The first drop landed in my tub.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 30





The Acts of Hope

I cover my head when I pray in hopes that G-d wants me sheltered. I attend meetings to keep alive the hope that sobriety is the end of isolation. I talk to the people in my network hoping I have something helpful to share. I sit down to the blank page with hopes that HP still chooses to collaborate with me. I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope that color is still my friend. I inhale air along with hope that each breath is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.






Take your inventory but don’t sell your stock


*

WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS DUCK

The duck looks fine sitting on the edge,
The rubber face frozen in a permanent grin
The appearance is flawless.
As long as it is not called to duty
No one will ever know.

Stay still---don’t jump.
When dropped into the water
This creature born for the tub
Lays on its side, one eye looking at the ceiling
The other straight at the bottom.

Floating is occurring but something is oh so wrong.
As indelicate as it may seem
This duck needs a big squeeze
No kid gloves and tender touches.

This duck has sucked in old bathwater
And misused ideas
Only a big push in the right direction
Will get this rancid stuff out.

Though the duck will get bend out of shape
There is no reason it can’t bounce back
That’s the wonderful thing about rubber
It is flexible and resilient
Even if it doesn’t always volunteer.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 31



Charmed by Snow


Warm weather snow falls in fat full flakes; I am living in a world of dreams and sweet peas. Sudden dustings sparkle and surprise leaving as quickly as they came; yet the world is kinder now. Beauty is an ambush of the heart. My breath alters, accelerates, speeding me to a smile, an illustration of joy. Crows walk the edge of the hedgerow, prattling on as they do; snow to their ankles and food on their minds. I drive over the mountains discovering myself as the recipient, the receiver of all this great gift, this life.








Trek to the edge of your comfort zone and map it out

*

MORTIFICATION

Lime with envy I built a wall around.
Love and hate are enclosed, brick and stone.
Rigor of extremities, the discipline of ages falls so short.

I make no in-depth connections
I coat externals with glue
Stack reaction and let the bombs fly.

I mix and crush old habits and bad ideas, make a paste.
I am setting myself up again.
Abstinence becomes the pestle of bludgeoning and abasement.

I am hard and I am hollow
Wounded pride, I subjugate my soul
My life is reduced to a powder, I am mortified.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 1

Porcellano


Some days I feel like a porcelain doll; hard head, hard hands, hard feet and everywhere else is soft, gormless. I feel useless and act out my feelings, stumbling through a day of pointless inactivity. I know that I belong on a shelf or propped upon the pillows of a bed, not fine enough for curio or collection, merely someone of marginal decorative value. I have gotten away from the meaning of me, the thrum of G-d’s intentions and am trapped in this world of elaboration; everything is embellished and nothing is real. It is time to put my foot down. To feel the earth solid and right; to catch my mind and take it out of its greasy spin from what is descent. I am not a China doll and it is time to walk away from these purloined thoughts.




Wear a white cotton cord around your waist

*

I KNOW



I know more than I understand.
I know more than I let on.
I know right from wrong
Left from right, uphill from down.

I know you have my best interest at heart
I know I often don’t.
I know it hurts when I fall
But holding on isn’t easy.

I know that wanting is not needing
And needing is not enough
I know old thinking breeds old action
But new thinking is often wild
And requires two minds for review.

I know to look three ways before crossing the street
Because trouble sometimes hits head on.
I know that if life is the question, yes is the answer

[RockOn]

Good morning, Sherrie!

I sure do like this line in your above post:
"I know old thinking breeds old action." This is so true.

I am chairing our Women's 6:00 AA meeting tonight. I am leaning towards the GRATITUDE topic, knowing full well it will draw many groans and sighs from the ladies attending ... (LOL!) ... but that is where my heart is today. And even when I have been the groaner (many times) - it always puts things into a good perspective for me because it reels me in and causes me to realize what is most important. Funny how that works.

Have a swell Sunday, my friend!
Hope things are well with you.
:)
Brock

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 2


In Plain Sight

When there is a problem, I hide. As the good places diminish I end up standing behind a pole. The trouble with this is that something always sticks out. I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy, I try to blend with the scenery. Once spotted I act nonchalant; “I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend; nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me. I would be better off parading naked than endeavoring this piteous disguise. I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me. What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence removes the target from my back and makes me invisible to almost everyone. When I solve my problem I solve this problem too.




Permit anxiety to drip off you and flow away


*

WALKING JOY HOME

I make sure to walk joy home,
Not because I doubt her ability to find it alone
Rather because it gives me extra time with her.

I used to fear joy.
That I would be intoxicated by her presents
And lose my well-hardened grasp on realism.

Now I see that without joy in my life there is no realism
That it was only cynicism
Masquerading in its place.

Joy is simple and unassuming,
I often confuse her with ecstasy and scoot away in shy terror
Joy is nice to have around she is not just a party animal.

Sometimes I invite her over for a cup of tea.
When we are done I take the winding path
To savor every step up to her door.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 3



Big Name


My name has a foreign sound; my head turns when it is called. I recognize this as training not identity. I remember teaching the dog her name. I called it while petting and praising her, soon the name was hers. Now, I think of G-d. Did we call long and loud enough to trigger name recognition on a vast intangible? Is this how we tagged and labeled the unknowable; assigned it a place on a shelf; somewhere to be called up from? Does the noise sound as strange as the syllables of my name sound to me? Does it matter as long as we answer?






Check for low doorbells and high expectations

*

PARADOX OF PARADISE

Paradise is created when I collect paradox and live with it.
Paradise is the set of acceptance and suspended disbelief.
If anything is possible accepting what comes is less heart wrenching.

If I arrest my misgivings
Gratification in the voluptuousness of now ---is velvet.
Vague consent is a Hell of incapacity.

Fighting fiercely for both sides
Keeps the heart pumping and the mind at bliss.
I must work to embrace contradiction and happiness
.
There is more than one path to take
And I must take that one.

[Tommi]

Friend's of Bill, Lois Jimmy and other 12 Steppers.
8/21/ 2010-Sat.
7:45am-8:45am

Hosted by Tommi & LeftwriteFemme

RSVP to Tommi for Coffee and Peabody location


I revised the time, so it doesn't run into the other 9AM events.
LeftWriteFemme will post other LGBT meetings in Little Rock, AR.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 4




Sleep Tight

Did you dream? Sleep the sleep of faultless souls? Or twist the sheets as in that Gilbert & Sullivan treatment? Are night time wrestlings an indication of decadent day- time activity? Or is it all simply a matter of happenstance? Possibly something I ate? Thought? Wished for? I think to myself I should not have gotten into that unmade bed, should have made it up; the bed and my mind, should have straighten out the crumpled mass of discarded dreams from yesterday and started fresh, but instead I climbed in with it all tumbled and tossed, lumpy and coarse, no smooth sailing in this tangled sea. What time I save by leveling the playing field and plumping the pillows. All is not lost, there is always tonight. Sweet dreams straight ahead.




Throw the ball even if you can’t pitch it

*

NEVER LET GO

When it grows dark on one side of transparency
The other becomes reflective.
When addiction doesn’t hold a flame for me
I see the true face of its results.

Because I know now the destructive possibilities
I must print the picture and post it on the wall.
For one day may come when addiction appears
As a light for me and the mirror will be gone.

I need to keep clear the truth even when my eyes lie to me
And my sensibilities catch on fire.
The glass can be the boundary or the tumbler,
The glare of day can be harsh or bright.

Light is forever shifting
I cannot count on shadows for predictions.
I must know it when I see it, chant it to remember
And hold hands and never let go.

[TenderKnight]

I just want to say this.. Nothing can lift my heart or my spirits more then waiting in line for cake with a bunch of older Queens and hearing them bitch about how big they are cutting the slices and that they want some of the GOOD aka homemade cake.. I was kinda feeling off during the meeting but standing in line and hearing that just struck me as the greatest thing in the world.. mainly cause I could see that they are just as crazy as I am.. lmao.. I wanted the good cake too!!

[Tommi]

I just want to say this.. Nothing can lift my heart or my spirits more then waiting in line for cake with a bunch of older Queens and hearing them bitch about how big they are cutting the slices and that they want some of the GOOD aka homemade cake.. I was kinda feeling off during the meeting but standing in line and hearing that just struck me as the greatest thing in the world.. mainly cause I could see that they are just as crazy as I am.. lmao.. I wanted the good cake too!!

SWEET..thanks for the post.:hangloose:

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 5



What are We Fighting For



Instead of competition for dominance we would benefit from cooperation for survival. The struggle to become the very best destroyers in the world very well might make us postmortem champions. Why is it that the lions don’t work to eradiate hyenas? They could, but they don’t. Why not, is the ever present question on my mind. I have no answer as to why we strive to conquer. A thousand platitudes come to mind, but nothing fast or tight, nothing that holds water. So, the question remains; why are we hell bent?







Welcome help
*

MY TALE

I must be my own tattletale.
I must give my sponsor bullets to shoot down my disease
Anything I nurture and protect will grow and take me over.

It is up to me to choose if I will feed my ailment or my health
My life will be consumed that is a guarantee,
All things feed into others.

The direction this meal takes is my daily decision.
The bull’s eye can be hit if I describe the target.
The ending will be happy if the story I tell is my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 6



I didn’t mean to make you laugh



You think I’m witty, well, yes, I have always been like this, no one knew quite what to do with me as a small child, but I have grown into this acumen, or possibly grown out into it is closer to accurate. I was dark witted when I was young, I think of myself as less so now, optimism is a blessing I have gained through the years, it feels good and I keep it close. I need to be a blithe spirit to travel the road I do. Tears have their place, I know that for sure, but I rather not go around with a puss on all day and all night. Additionally it is so much about perspective; you see, the honey makes the peas taste funny but now they stick to my knife.





Assign colors to numbers

*

I AM

I am my own hope.
The spring of willingness flows within me
And makes everything possible.

I am my own dream.
Colors and sprinkles fly in my mind
And mix with a sprites laugh
And make me enchanted.

I am my own joy.
Filled with wonder and delight,
My quick turns and ready mind warm
My heart and pink my checks.

I am my own prize.
New and exciting everyday
That I am myself, I win.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 7



I Beg


The embarrassment of need is a haunting guest who will not leave. I turn in a tight circle trying to find a way to detach this wart and move gracefully from the site of devastation, but it looms large and overshadows today’s possibilities and robs tomorrows gold. What I cannot do for myself, the magic I cannot yet perform, stands between me and contentment, stands there wearing your face; touching my mind with your fingertips. I pray that you are not the answer for I cannot depend on you, but I think of you and the little bell rings and I am hungry. Desire is a gift. Desiring you is the burden whose shadow I can’t escape. I close my eyes to the light you emit; I cannot close my heart. All that’s left is pleading; please come home and fill me or leave and lock the door and let me grieve in peace.







Treat your health like your job, treat your health like your investment, treat your health like your life; it is

*

ROCK BOTTOM PRICES

Marble topped dressers, dry sinks and wardrobes,
Stand in the auctioneer’s warehouse
Showing loving use and obvious value.

The hungry consumers peruse the merchandise
Looking for the perfect pieces
To fit their need.

Old men eating ice cream sandwiches pick their way through
The rows of tidbits laid out on the lawn,
Bargains to fill odd spaces and little desires.

So like out meeting places, people trying to refurnish their lives.
The cost to arrive may have been high
But once in the market is more than fair.

We reclaim relics and we use them as road signs and warnings.
There is always someone around to carry large truths home
And no one has to go away empty handed.

We bid on our own survival by buying someone else a break.
Time passes easily as the one at the podium
Recounts the rock bottom prices.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 8


Stand Hear


The spins and pirouettes I have preformed in an attempt to avoid facing the music, were impressive but futile and ultimately delayed the beauty possible for me in this life. When I stop my running and turn on my heel there is a world of harmony waiting to take me for a turn out on the dance floor. Melody is not what I was expecting. I was so sure I would be drummed out of my life, not trumpeted in. My surety set in motion much of my convoluted activity and caused me great distress. It is high time I listen with eyes open and my reactions leashed; allowing the tune to introduce me to life and lead me to my bliss.





Let bad habits run away from home; pack their bags when you can

*

DON’T BE

Don’t be stupid.
Don’t be crazy.
Don’t be anything out of the ordinary.

Don’t be angry.
Don’t be hateful.
Just don’t be that way.

Don’t be sad.
Don’t be mopy
Smile fore the camera and pretend for everyone.

I often wondered why I felt like dyeing
And it took me years to understand why,
Don’t be, equals = Death.

Don’t feel.
Don’t cry.
Don’t love
.
Life is about action, presence and content.
You’re wrong if you break the rules
And dead if you keep them.

So please don’t be Them.
Look back when you have to
But step out of the grave.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 9



Pick up Your Hammer and Saw

The task infers the tool. I know this, yet I resist clearly mapping my insanity. I look into the well of my despair then quickly I look away, I fear informing G-d what I need lest the need be filled. I need to believe that a power will heal me, but if I am provided with the force of life, I shrink from the prospect. This too, must be added to the list of my emotional woes and mental shortages. This too, will be healed. I look at my problems and then realize, that like the moon, who pulls the water from dry shore to dry shore, solutions are installed in heaven and earth if I know what the problem is.





Experiment, start living a dream


*
COMFORT AND WILLINGNESS

Closer than comfort is willingness.
Comfort is at the skin
But willingness is under it.

I can live without comfort
But not without willingness
Both are unseen but felt deeply.

Willingness drives to the destination
And comfort settles me in once there.
Comfort is a gift like warmth,
Willingness is a gift like breath.

I have been tempted to let go of willingness
To hold onto comfort.
True willingness brings true comfort
Never the other way around.

No matter where I have to go
Willingness will take me there,
I hope comfort will follow.

[Soft*Silver]

Next Sunday, I am going to give my first lead since my relapse nov 13 2008.

How grateful I am...

[LeftWriteFemme]

Hey Friends of Bill, Jimmy, Lois and so on who are going to the Reunion,

I spoke to the GSR of the gay meeting in Little Rock and she explained to me that the only gay meetings are Friday and Sunday evenings. We had hoped that there were day time meetings that we could visit while in town, but alas this will not work out. So I purpose that folks PM me and let me know when they would like to meet. Tommi and I are morning people and 7:45 AM Friday morning has been suggested, but if there is a time that would be better please let me know.

Thanks very much,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 10




Michal Rovner


I have numbered all the blocks in my ancestral walls. This has enabled me to recreate them stone by stone everywhere I go. It all fits to create the tomb I now have to learn to leave. I must change the equation and reorder the numbers allowing these rocks to be recycled and find a wonderful useful life as a stairway out of this pit of despair. What was once an edifice to lives unlived is now able to facilitate elevation, a restoration of a level playing field. It was not wrong for me to catalog the stones and there was no way for me to leave them behind, but nothing matches the satisfaction of using them to build a life, except for the ability to live in it.






Take a look at yourself from a distance


*
THE SEDUCTION OF SOBRIETY

I was seduced away from my duties
As an alcoholic by the promise of sobriety,
Allegiance to my disease was sidelined.

Alluring stability and beguiling integrity
Curried favor with my desperate heart,
Pulling me from the arranged marriage of addiction.

How could I cling to the corpse of dependence
When sanity shimmered just out of reach,
Then not out of reach but within my grasp.

I couldn’t resist the golden flicker of life.
I had been bound to death
Unable to see an alternative.

My loyalty to loss and grief slipped from me
And I limped into the daylight,
Like the widow of the night.

I have been lured to my senses
By a love like no other,
The love of life.

[Tommi]

Hey Friends of Bill, Jimmy, Lois and so on who are going to the Reunion,

I spoke to the GSR of the gay meeting in Little Rock and she explained to me that the only gay meetings are Friday and Sunday evenings. We had hoped that there were day time meetings that we could visit while in town, but alas this will not work out. So I purpose that folks PM me and let me know when they would like to meet. Tommi and I are morning people and 7:45 AM Friday morning has been suggested, but if there is a time that would be better please let me know.

Thanks very much,

Sherrie

So, looks like we don't have many early risers in the crowd. Maybe some will want to just meet and do the infamous AA Coffee style meeting somewhere in the lobby/lounge, and chat. A meeting is were two or more gather, so, see ya'll in Little Rock..8 days away for U/s.

So Easy Does It, and get lots of rest and avoid screaming H.A.L.T. too loud. If the sights and sounds get overwhelming, grab one of us.

Tommi

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 11




Hoover’s Fault


When happiness is hard work I have to learn to look for the lie. There must be a lie for happiness flows unrestrained when not dammed. What was built too far up river for me to see, dries out my once liquid existence; leaving me to flounder in the shallows. I can’t allow myself to flop in the muck of waters muddied with deceit. I will permit myself to look for clear bright prospects from melting glaciers and accustom myself to the invigoration of a life lived under a loving watchful eye.






Keep water near by

*

KILLER SQUIRRELS
AND OTHER SOBER DRAMA

I can tell you stories to make your hair curl.
Death defying fifth steps,
Speaking commitments with microphoned podiums,
Sponsees with killer squirrels trapped in the house.

The courage and sheer determination
Needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence
And yet sober mind and willing heart these travails
Are surmounted and we live on.

Tears turn to laughter with rescue and remedy
How strong we feel as the cape is passed
When one time panic prone sponsees
Become the model of calm and stable sponsors.

Hoards of relatives at holidays,
Interaction with bankers, police officers
And all manner of people in shiny shoes
Are handled with grace and boundaries.

Porch loving skunks, children becoming teenagers,
Are faced with humor and wit.
Things which in years gone by would have sent us screaming
To the phone are now casual asides during after meeting discussion.

Life does keep spinning on
But we learn how to stand still.

[TenderKnight]

Hey all!

Just an FYI, San Diego's Feeling Good confrence is coming up. http://www.feelinggood.org

It's held during Labor Day weekend and is a huge confrence with a lot of GLBT focus. I'll be volunteering and if anyone else volunteers, there is a wave for the confrence fee. I believe that for every 4 hours of volunteer work you get the rest of the day free.

There are lots of things planned including speakers and work shops. I am looking forward to it! If anyone wants to come by and say hello or hang out, that would be pretty cool too.

Hope that everyone that is going to Little Rock has an AWESOME time and I hope that the AA meeting gets put together ok, I know that those kind of things kinda happen as they should anyway :)

On a personal note, I am considering going into a residentialprogram here in San Diego.. The more I pray about it and share about it the better it feels and I will take whatever the next indicated step is for me.. Now, it's heading to Point Loma for a TB test.. lol

Love and Light to everyone on this thread and around the rooms.

-Tony, who has 20 days as of today.. A fucking maricle.. lol

[Tommi]

[QUOTE=TenderKnight

-Tony, who has 20 days as of today.. A fucking maricle.. lol[/QUOTE]

http://blair.pasadenausd.org/modules/groups/homepagefiles/cms/917199/Image/Announcements/congratulationsWayToGo.jpg

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 12




Seen on the Street


Sometimes graffiti improves a place, other times it degrades it. I now wonder; is this defined by the breaking or breaching of public norms? Or is it built from the intent of the artist/perpetrator? Possibly the pedestrian traffic or the light of day determine the difference between art and recalcitrance. What if all these factors flashing like a neon kaleidoscope facilitated what this all really means? What if it all signifies nothing other than yet another way for me to entertain my brain while avoiding work? I guess I better get back to the spray cans, I have a wall to cover.




Open your mind to unusual collaboration
*



THE TEAM

The dream sobriety I envision,
The fantasy recovery I mentally construct,
Blows out to sea as so much mist
In the face of actual life.

Setting out sports teams, which don’t exist
Is playful and entertaining.
Trying to rebuild the principals of the program
Is a delusion I can drink over.

Finessing my network and pretending I can put together a team
On a basis of specialized talents instead of ground level willingness
Is like designing a plane without regard to physics
Playing only to esthetics.

Anytime I am redesigning
I must realize I am no longer participating
If I keep my head in the game
I can stay away from statistics and stop planning outcomes.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 13



Phillips Head


What’s stuck in makes the thing. What sticks out is all that’s seen. I can tell so much from what is left out, yet there is much I will never know, can never tell. The twist, the give, the opening to variation is known, but never acknowledged. Somehow indecent if spoken or thought of too loudly, insinuation is ignored and society allows us to focus on what is held after or due to this act. We have built the whole world on what we can screw together, but we will merely hallow this, never embrace the fact until it falls apart. Then we exclaim over the rawness of how it caused us to be turned around, the risk and wrongness, ignoring just how much good can come from just a simple screw.





Acknowledge rain clouds as puddles on lay-away

*

MEETING INVENTORY

The manicurist at the meeting sits and does her nails.
The discussion goes on around her as she files away.
Cell phones go off for people
Who can’t put their lives on hold for their sobriety.

The knitter knits.
And the dissenters dissent.
The chatting chickens and grumbling grouse
All these populate the meeting.

It has taken the first half of the hour
To take everyone else’s inventory.
I have the remaining thirty to take my own.

[Tommi]

http://blair.pasadenausd.org/modules/groups/homepagefiles/cms/917199/Image/Announcements/congratulationsWayToGo.jpg


23 YEARS LeftWriteFemme

[LeftWriteFemme]

Thank you, Daddy! I am so very grateful to be sober. This has been a great year for me and I am so looking forward to the year coming up. Thank you for being sober with me and thank you even more for leading the way!

all my love,

the girl



http://blair.pasadenausd.org/modules/groups/homepagefiles/cms/917199/Image/Announcements/congratulationsWayToGo.jpg


23 YEARS LeftWriteFemme

[Bootsandheels]

Hi All,
I'm new and I have 9 yrs and 5 mos. sober by the grace of my HP and the program! Nice to meet you all and thanks for starting this thread. I managed to stay sober through a breakup this year with an ex who went back out with the same amount of time and is still out...This is a killer disease.
So grateful to still be here...

:byebye:

Boots

[LeftWriteFemme]

Welcome and congratulations!!!!!


Hi All,
I'm new and I have 9 yrs and 5 mos. sober by the grace of my HP and the program! Nice to meet you all and thanks for starting this thread. I managed to stay sober through a breakup this year with an ex who went back out with the same amount of time and is still out...This is a killer disease.
So grateful to still be here...

:byebye:

Boots

[Greyson]

Hi All,
I'm new and I have 9 yrs and 5 mos. sober by the grace of my HP and the program! Nice to meet you all and thanks for starting this thread. I managed to stay sober through a breakup this year with an ex who went back out with the same amount of time and is still out...This is a killer disease.
So grateful to still be here...

:byebye:

Boots

Again, welcome to the Planet and congrats on your progress in recovery. Yes, I know sometimes as my years of sobriety roll by, I can forget just how devestating addiction to alcohol and/or drugs can be.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 14




Participant Observer


Underneath it all I am more than naked; I am hidden by exposure. My body can never be as nude as life with you in my thoughts. My mind is a polygraph you wander through. I have determined this is more than safe and unlock the closets. You are not my warden looking for contraband, nor the janitor looking for trash, you are here, you are my friend having a better look around simply to know me better and to love me well. Your unfamiliar stride is exciting, I show off the places I long for you to see and stand aside from the rest, it is all yours to look through. I do not resist. You are my peaceful guardian; I am your willing charge.







Sit with impatience and sooth it

*

CAMPAIGN

Sobriety is the Santa Clause that brings delightful gifts
Which make me smile.
Recovery is the Gene
Which comes from staying out of bottles.
The Jin makes treasure possible
But doesn’t bring it to the door.

The ads and billboards of illusion built a world of booze
But no hope for a real life.
I have learned to turn from all the lies of picking up
And live in the possibilities which open
Only when I put down the drink and the thinking.

I don’t need to pin up stockings
Or rub lamps, just take direction
And make willingness my campaign.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 15



The Dark Fantastic


When the tornado touches down worry ends; the anticipation is over and thought stops. Tragedy is funny that way. In the aftermath I find out what mattered and what didn’t; whether I have helped or injured myself trying to plan for the worst. I fail to realize there are cloud filled days when nothing happens and days when trouble comes from out of the blue. What matters ultimately is if I was happy yesterday all the way into today until the thunder struck. Greed is not: living for today; greed is my attempt at gathering the future while dragging the past.






Compel your brilliance to shine

*


AUTUMN

The falling leaves slap my hand
As I ride the road a fifty mile per
My arm dangling.

Exposed they stand stark,
Stripped naked to the soul.
The growth of this years yearnings on the fringe.

I can follow this lead
Remove pretence not clothing
Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me.

Unashamed of my wants and the things I reach for
I can cast off the uniform of evolution
And enjoy a long winter of truth.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 16



Single Serving Sterling


When the menu of life feels vast I must focus on my teaspoon; a simple tool that fits well in my hand, whose use I well understand. The possibilities conceived when I ponder the intangibles conspire to suck me down the rabbit-hole where all that’s left to me is a drug. When I come back to stir my tea and lick the spoon clean the world revolves around me and without need of my completed unified theory. Need looms, loss stacks, salvation keeps a steady distance, my only hope is to drink my tea, I shan’t even sharpen my spoon; I can and need to stay out of my fear built prison and off the streets of hell. My task is at hand and the size of the scoop is a reminder to take all of life in small doses.




Treat hope as a living thing; feed its hunger, quench its thirst

*


NATURAL LAW

Gravity is always in effect
But invoke the laws of lift
And you can make a stone fly.

I have no gills
But strap on a tank and rebreather
And I can share space with the sharks.

Given enough willingness and step work
I can walk through the world sober
Though every cell of my body is alcoholic.

The laws of nature are fluid
When I flow with them I can keep my goals.
Instant gratification is often my stumbling block.

Gaining access to my far-flung desires
Is not impossible
But it is also not immediate.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 17


Go where it’s warm



The intangible rightness of cohesion is difficult to explain. What is it that makes a group congregating into a congregation? What makes a rag tag tousle into a home group? It is the thing I yearn for, but dare not chase. I know this too makes a grub into a butterfly, yet private transformation seems necessary, where the change of masses is gratuitous. A thousand geese fly overhead; arrows of individual miracles, pointing the way to the meaning of it all.







Score your rhythm so you can reflect the music of your soul

*

THE DREAMER

What about the dreamer?
What about her, responds my sponsor.
You ask me about her like I was the one
Who pushed her off the cliff.

Are you saying I pushed her,
I questioned my sponsor.
Yes, that is just what I am saying.
Do you need me to sing it?

You wanted the dreamer to fly off,
To safety and happiness
And wanted her to take you with her.
In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles
And propel her to heaven
You threw her off the precipice.

Now she is broken and bleeding
Far from your sight
Your dreamer is damaged
And you ask about her?

Do you want to know what you did
And how to remedy it
Or were you looking to duck responsibility?

QUACK------

[TenderKnight]

OK, first off, welcome to the folks that are new to the thread and Congrats to you, LeftWriteFemme on your milestone :)

Now, I need to share this because I could use some advice.. I went to meet with the intake person for the treatment program that I'm wanting to get into. It is a LGBT focused rehab and a residential program. I was told that I would probably have to be housed with the females.. Even though I am trans and have been on hormones for over a year now. She asked if I had had surgury and I said no.. This seemed to emply for her that it was natural that I'd be in with the girls.

I know transwomen that have been through the residential program and were not forced to be with the men. I guess I am the first FTM that they have had to deal with. On learning this I am now really stressed out and pretty depressed. The thought of being housed and treated as a woman after all these years of fighting to be seen and treated as a man in the recovery community, it is making me sick. I am going to talk with my sponcer about it and I am looking into getting an advocate, but jesus, this is a blow for me right now.

Not to mention the 2 to 3 month waiting list for women.. The one for men is shorter.. That part just fucking pisses me off to no end. All that aside, I know that I need treatment. I know that my sobriety means life and death for me, literally. My job means nothing, my apartment means nothing.. I am willing and ready to drop it all in order to get the help that I need.. But I can't help but feel that I have just been descriminated against and it hurts deeply.

As I said, I am talking about this with my support system here in real time, I am going to meetings and not using, but fuck.. It's friggin hard for me right now.. I just feel pretty hopeless in a lot of ways. Blah.. This too shall pass and I am taking it minute by minute right now.. Looking and getting lots of AA hugs, but I still feel like my ass is about to fall off and I feel lost.

*sighs* Venting here.. Will be ok, going to see about staying with my sponcer tonight, being alone right now isn't looking too good..

Love and Light,
Tony

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 18



Blind Man’s Bluff



Turning your head to see doesn’t help when you have a blind eye. All the rotation in the world won’t restore your sight. Addressing life problems with a solution involving spin is counter productive and sometimes counter clockwise to boot. If I find I just can’t see, then maybe it’s time to listen better and compensate for my shortcoming through some other action. Turning away doesn’t help and walking away is worse. When I am blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other stepping up to the plate may not be an option, but I still need to find a way to stay in the game.






Molt bad ideas
*


PUBLIC PRIVACY

My public privacy is protected
By my smile not my scowl.
Maintaining boundaries as I travel
The common areas of life
Is more readily accomplished
By a pleasant demeanor than a dark stare.

I have used negative attitude
And found myself outside of my own protection.
The buoyancy of my manner keeps surface tension
A natural and acceptable reality.
Hooded behavior drags every interaction
Into suspicion.

When I make part of my business
To put others at ease
It is easier for me to persevere
My business as my own.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 19



Endlessly Moving Maps


I try to survive by memorizing the chaos. I do well up to five layers deep and then lose it, as the details become too great. I am staking my life on my ability to track the patterns in a storm while at the same time treading water. I think this skill kept life and breathe in me for many years, but now I fear I’ll drown in this roiling mass. I must touch down my tender toes and learn to walk this twisting path and keep a pace with this spinning world. Everything moves and I am overwhelmed. I have forgotten my flesh and blood nature; have mistaken myself for a stone, one which dare not roll, one which has no part in this endlessly moving map.








Be honest with your toes

*



SATISFACTION

Satisfaction is like a marble in my pocket.
Formed when correctness was still red hot
And my sponsor rolled my mind until I was whole.

I sigh and square my shoulders
I know I am up to any task.
I am skilled with my tools and know well the talents
Of my intimates and helpmates.

I am not invincible but I am capable.
I value who and what I am today.
I sleep the sleep of a person
Not a hostage or captor, I am me.

I have a marble in my pocket
And it reminds me of the world.
I have a world within me
Knowing how to live with that
Is a great satisfaction.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 20



Dewy, Cheatum & Howe


I must radically sever the close connection I have with self-seeking, self-pity and dishonesty. What will I use to pay the retainer for the representation I will need to pursue this divorce? Willingness is the earnest money, which will start the ball rolling, hard work pitches in its share and faith pays the note each day I apply it. All this and more is what it takes to divide the endless stream of my compulsive thought into a survivable days worth of life. I have the prospect of being happy as a divorcee or I could be a miserable widow if I stay wed to my disease.





Try not to be the exception to everything

*

PROMISE BROKEN

If promise shatters without anyone touching it,
If it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost it cohesion,
What do I do--name names--I can’t even take fingerprints.

Sometimes dreams just end--no fault or blame is attached.
The ice breaks under it’s own weight
And nothing can be done.

I am more than just holding on.
I am alive even if all the promises melt away.
I can accept the unexpected and unasked for.

I know this doesn’t affect my worth.
My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.
I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement.
Promises are pleasantries
.
I am made of stronger stuff.
I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.
Promise can be broken
But it doesn’t break me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 21



Hang on or Dance


Because I felt ‘outcomes’ slipping through my fingertips I dug in with my nails, I schemed, plotted, worried, whined. Lack of power was my problem I thought, but what it came down to was, failure to acknowledge… accept… failure to surrender to the reality of powerlessness. The only thing I learned from resistance was an intimate knowledge of futility. When I embraced truth… the facts…when I live with the gravity of masses not fight against it; I began to enjoy the weather, knowing I did not pull the clouds or push the storm. I’m back in the dance of people moving about me, all keeping with the time, it is not mine to keep.




Befriend science

*

CHANNELING

It’s a full feeling to be a channel.
Only an empty feeling when it’s blocked
At the base of my spine
And God can’t go to my head.

The river flows through me and my banks will hold
Excuses dam me up
And leave a dry and lifeless basin
With tributaries taxed for usefulness.

Staying in the groove conveys my Higher Powers will
Without need of my furrowed brow.
A hose with no water running
Is a place for spiders to spin.

If I shut off the service I am a breeding ground
For creeping sadness and shocking misery
Compliance allow me the view
Of flowing strength and rushing joy
The greatest of which is living with intent.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 22



Up to Date

The future is a prison I escape by staying in today. The tiny windows which open to strange foreknowledge have barbs rather than bars and inflict painful wounds when I attempt too close examination. My business is here and now; the currency like manna, good only for the duration of the day and nothing further. Pretty dreams and colossal disaster float as baubles on the horizon but I need to take down my focus from such far off vistas; adjusting the optics for a clear view of where I am standing. Circumscription is what the destiny becomes when I try to live in it too soon. Novelty is what it is to be living in the very moment I am currently breathing in.





Find ways to embrace the random nature of life

*

ORIGAMI

I fold my reality like origami
Everyday a shape to suit my whim.

A dog when I feel like begging.
A horse when I want to trot away.
A pot to brew up some potion.

A penguin when I feel cold
And I stand on my egg all day.

I can bend and flex, change my image
But in the end I am truly flat and lifeless
A construct of imagination but soulless and boring.

Reality cannot be my creation,
Made in accordion of my mind.

Truth and breath come like wind
And I need to let them change direction
And change me too.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 23




Carrion


The trouble with not burying my dead issues is that in very short order they begin to smell and not, too long after that they start to attract vultures. Alternately when I am able to drain all the juice out of these botherations and they become freeze-dried decorations like Roy Rodger’s Trigger, I find that I can still climb aboard but they just don’t take me anywhere. I have found, just for me that I prefer visiting the grave of a past problem far better than having to live with its corpse, but then I am funny like that. I have never been one for hanging on to crucifixion, other’s or my own.







Don’t wait for the bell of courage to sound, go ring it yourself


*

THE CALL

Within the sound of your voice
I sing.
In the beat of your heart
I heal.

I feel in your touch
And dance when your toe starts to tap.
I see myself in your beauty
And warm inside your embrace.

Your thoughts are my inspiration.
Your lungs breathe me in and blow me out.
I soar in your flight
And dream in your waking.

I ring in your ears
Fall with your tears.
I’m lost in you
And found in you.

I travel and lounge in you
I share all your rantings and hide in your secrets
You hear and caress me, my darling
You know who I am.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 24



Just Say NO to Bushel Baskets


Spending my life under a bushel basket kept me from realizing who I am. I thought because of the close quarters I knew myself better than those free to explore the world, yet, alas, no. I am unaware of the world outside and inside the bin; this woven covering served to sever all true communications. Even in places where my candle burned through, it couldn’t allow sufficient light, in or out, for as much as an SOS or a night light. Here I am, not knowing my abilities… my possibilities…. or my worth and there is the world, standing a startled stranger from me, for I only know it as the circle around my feet and nothing more.






Manipulate your mind until it is supple and flexible


*

HARD TIMES

Sometimes I pack the earth down so hard
that weeds can’t even grow up through.
I try to make nature inert.
I try to kill my alcoholism.

I confine my disease to this tiny path of compacted dirt
and wear blinders as to ward off distractions.
I forget there is a garden to be grown
in the fertile ground of my recovering mind.

Losing the compulsion to drink is a gift.
Stopping my mind from thinking is soul murder.
I can sink my toes in the good brown soil
and look to the lilies and Queen Ann’s Lace for inspiration
.
I can stop giving myself such a hard time.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 25




Echidna’s Child



The difference between perplexed paranoia and procrastination is sometimes a subtle distinction. The confusion which swirls, confounding me along my trudge, gets the name of procrastinator. I am not at all sure I should continue to call it by that name. I believe that quite possibly I am an internal chimera, a blend of creatures, both mythic and fantastic, striving to live as one functioning specter, in a world too hard for a disparate visage as myself. When I am most myself, when the goal is pure and true, I work with a will. When I am making deadly compromise and risking my soul for social ease or the approval of the keepers, my dragon heart rebels and I am struggling against the fire in my stomach and fear screaming in my head. I don’t know how to eliminate the conflict, but for now I will attempt to stop calling myself names.




Beware of hopelessness it has a big imagination
*

WATERLINE

The interface of water and land is compelling.
Soothing but dramatic I’m drawn to this transition.
I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land.

The gift of one place to another calls me.
Change and transition exhilarate my senses.
Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea,
I feel the pull to watch life in response.

Boundaries are beautiful.
Borders allow safety and recreation not just risk.
When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 26




Make Use of Brown Soap


When I have death in my pocket it makes it easy to cross the street without a glance. A little arsenic in my in my veins allows me to swallow the rest with no thought beyond want. Twist the screws tight enough in my brain and no other pressure seems problematic. All of the trouble in the world can beat a path to my door when I carry within me the seeds of destruction. I have to check myself for stow-away devastation. Ruin begins in tiny droplets but will wash me down the drain if not wiped immediately from my skin. Vigilant acknowledgement of the power of small burdens protects me from the mind blown ravages of the ensuing cyclone. Microbes cause mayhem, so I must watch where I touch and wash before I eat.






Don’t keep your windows shuttered; don’t keep your eyes closed

*

UNIFIED THEORY

When I build the circuit correctly the light comes on.
When I heal the shards together the bell rings.
If I am meticulous and attentive, if the world is gracious
And bares herself to my mind I will see how everything fits.

I know the reflexive nature of things
And the way life folds one thing inside the other.
Whale song is a long slow underwater birdcall.
Moon rise, sun rise, then the moon again.

The universe works without my interference
But also without complete understanding.
I am learning how to be a part of a beautiful maze
I long to comprehend it.

The weeds are trying to take back the city
If I lay down maybe they will take me back too.
If I keep my eyes open I might see it all unfold.
Conception without is my desire within.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 27




Burning with Desire


You cannot stop the flames from licking me by telling me I am not on fire. For some reason you do not perceive the flames; you do not know fire. I cradle the desperate hope that you will recognize the ashes when the burn is done. By then it is too late for rescue, but the field is then wide open for regret. Resplendent is what I thought I was before the fire broke out. Now I feel like a misunderstood mansion torched to make way for a Walmart.




Dream your own dreams


*

FUNK & WAGNALL’S BACK PORCH

Bottoms come sealed in envelopes
From unknown accountants.
Amazing how many nominees and how few winners.
The audience filled with past recipients
Hold their collective breaths.

They pray for this years finalist
And pray a bigger prayer
Of thanks to this years donors,
The ones who prove with their lives
That it hasn’t gotten better out there.

The speeches are the same.
A gratitude list and maybe a punch line.
The smiles and tears fresh but familiar.

When the lights go out on this night,
The days of diligence begin once again
So no one need loose their seat
And we can all celebrate here next year together.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 28





Defining the Indefinable

What is Alcoholism? What is a Hurricane? What is a Cataclysm? I know I look for the root cause, look to predict the outcome, look to prevention and preservation of this thing which comes pouring from the four winds to land in my dooryard and knock on my screen door. What it shows me today, the furious winds, the slanting rain, may not be how it presents tomorrow, but I must keep in mind it is all the same storm and must be regarded with the same respect and treated with the same care and diligence. Whether it’s the thirst or the thinking, a jail cell or my mental mouse trap, alcoholism is an umbrella term for the tsunami, which came to collect me, but no definition will convey the devastation it has wrought.






Make sure you are more than your memories

*

THE FRUIT BOWL

Meetings are living and precious fruit
I must squeeze every drop from them
even the lemons.

I am privileged to be among the succulent growth
and pungent fragrance of determined hearts
and minds ----the infusion of strength.

The vitality received from the essence of truth
gives and gives to me.
I am refreshed by exposure to raw talent
revived by action and growth.

The diversity of shape and flavor
cheer and inspire me.
The contrast from bowl to challis is dramatic
ever a reminder to stay where it’s fresh.

[RockOn]

Love your August 28th post, Sherry.

Today, I do not try to hide the elephant in the living room under the rug. It was always so futile, anyway. And I was the last to know.

I chose to unmask, reveal him. This robbed him of his power.

Today, he cooperates. See him now.
:elefant:

Here is my support, my program.
:pile:

It is always there for us ... anyone who seeks it with sincere desire. We only have to chose it ... then cooperate ... follow a few simple suggestions.

I pray I continue making the correct choice ... one day at a time.
Today, the fight is over and what an enormous relief.

Peace.
Brock

[LeftWriteFemme]

Thanks so much Brock! I am so glad you like this post! It's good to see the elephant is out and dancing!!! I'm keeping your sponsor in my thoughts and prayers today.

[RockOn]

Sherry,

Thanks so much for keeping Cheryl in your thoughts and prayers. I am thinking I will hear from her within an hour from now. They get their results back before they leave the testing facility ... so she will know if she passed it. It is a very tough computer certification exam and she has studied for about the past three months. I admire her grit. The good thing is she can take it again if she did not pass it today. And there is no shame in that. I believe she told me it costs her $250.00 to take it.

Enjoy your Saturday! :)

P.S.
Yes, the elephant is dancing today. He danced yesterday also. I honestly believe if I keep doing what I am doing, he will dance again tomorrow. Just so thankful I do not have to wrestle with him anymore. I was getting all mashed to heck and banged up pretty bad!! He always won in the end back then. I had to cease fighting everything and everyone. Amazing, that is when I noticed he started dancing. LOL!

[RockOn]

Ohhhhhhhhh ...

Cheryl just called and she was crying. She missed the passing mark by 4 questions. I hate this for her.

We talked. I told her I am proud of her no matter what. Wow, the fact she is attempting to study for this without any bootcamp training speaks volumnes about her determination and grit. She can take it again and the only thing that will change is her date on her certification. We are going to get together later on today. She wants to see my new dog.

The thing today is we people in the program are able to face life on life's terms, endure disappointments and not drink. With the tools provided by the program, we are winners ... we pick up and utilize those tools instead of the drink ... these tools that have been so freely given - made available to us. Before, we had no choice ... we did what we had to do during desperate events - which of course brought on more and more unraveling. At least, that is how it was back then for me but I could never, ever see it. Recovery opened my eyes.

Cheryl is okay. She even got to laughing. She made $1000.00 a while back on a job referral who was hired. She looked on the bright side, realized it has not cost her anything and still has more tries at the exam before it starts costing her out of pocket. Cheryl is a sport, I tell you. And a winner too! I am proud to call her my sponsor. :)

[LeftWriteFemme]

What a good attitude! Test can be hell. Please tell her I'm rooting for her.

The dog is so cute! What a nice pair of dogs you have.

I love your description of of the elephant dancing!!

I'm sure Cheryl will ace the test next time!

Have a great weekend!

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 29



The Slick Nature of Grace



The higher I climb the more severe the fall; the sweeter my life the more brittle my blood sugar. I must be more careful as I get better. I thought being sober would make my life free from care, but I think it is a freedom from fretting that might be more accurate. I must still climb and take in all the sweetness which comes my way, but always I must vigilantly keep my balance. Hold on tighter; eat more protein. Grace is a glorious thing and I am the consecrated recipient who knows the slickness of the slopes and the cunning of the glucose. Daring to be sober is an athletic endeavor I must tighten my cleats and sharpen my sweet tooth.






Check your motives against something fixed, then against something in motion

*

WILL YOU GET TO THE OTHER SIDE

Chickens stand together on the edge of the road
Pecking and scratching
People make fun.

People tell jokes
But it’s not so funny when we are the ones
Playing on the tracks.

We forget that all the excuses about longing for
Excitement and not wanting to be cut off
From the world sound like so much cackling
To the ears of people who value their lives.

Life in the pasture or the backyard
Is fulfilling if you want it.
That kind of life is no adrenaline rush
But then again isn’t adrenaline just another drug.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 30





Even at the Bottom


Why is it that I feel G-d leads me to the path, but expects me to travel it alone? In all honesty it feels more like G-d leads me to the stairs and I fall down them on my own. I lay in a heap at the bottom, filled with self-reproach for the landing. I forget that a power which draws me forward can also endure. I did not come here alone, will not leave here alone; I am never alone, even at the bottom of the stair.








Pat-down unwanted thoughts

*

HARVEST TIMING

The harvest fits in the growing season
And the oak fits inside the acorn.
My sober mind fits right in my sober time.

The soul of everything rubs across
The hind leg of a cricket to sing.
The infinite machinery of the universe spins
But you stand there questioning
The existence of a Higher Power.

Well, that’s who you are
But I have only one question for you
Who else could have made
All the best tomatoes come from Jersey?

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 31



Rex


Hungry dogs who love me anyway, dance around waiting to be fed. If they didn’t love they would take bloody bites and I don’t forget it. These puppies have teeth, like cigarettes I want to smoke but don’t. And meanwhile back on the farm I seek to quiet the whines and barking of the unfed, malnourished familiarity which writhes at my ankles and jumps at my knees. I can no longer pat my disquiet on the head and expect it to stay or heal. I must hunt down the beast which bothers me and feed the meat of it to the pups. I must not leave the lopers to quarry my burden if I want to remain master and leave them to be pet.








Rip yourself away from distress

*

DO YOU HEAR THAT SOUND

I was running on empty
And thought I was getting along that way
But the smoke gave me away.

My life had caught on fire
And I burned to the ground.
I thought nothing had been apparent
Until it all lay in ashes.

My sponsor said, No-------
We all knew when you tank ran dry.
The sucking sound could be heard for miles around.

I asked her, if that were true,
Why I hadn’t hear it myself?
She said, she guessed,
I had my denial turned up to loud.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 1





Shadow of Doubt


The long dark cast covers my face, my thoughts, my life; it is the light blocked by my skepticism. To tear down the obstruction means a profound change of my internal architecture; walls will have to be knocked down, windows installed. The poor mouthed structure takes better to the steamroller than I wish it would. I fear the loss of my hideout, panic at the thought of a life in the sun. Skepticism builds a paper world; opaque, weak yet frightening to tear apart.








Rub the place where you land

*


WHY NOT HOME

Power is not production and production is not art.
I have to keep pulling the car to the side of the road
so I don’t miss the train of words sent to me,
from out of the dark blue life I am on the edge of living
but I still want to go home.

I will never give up these roadside excursions
into the river of thought though I do wonder why
the cable shoved into my house never gets this channel?
Why is the connection so strong on the bus not the bed?

The minefields of thought explosions seem seeded anywhere
as long as it’s at least five miles away.
Power is not production and production is not art.
I let it pour through me---it is not mine to sort.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 2



Here Kitty Kitty


Litter training the lynx seems like a good idea until it is accomplished and all concerned are less for the accomplishment. Domesticity is a transparent cage, which has a presence felt by all whether loved or hated. The air is changed and the cat stifles, everyone is safer, so it is said, but what are we safer from? And what is a broken lynx, certainly not a house cat?





Peer under obstacles then climb over


*
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE

Just because the crows fly away when I arrive
doesn’t mean they are afraid
but they might be.

The obvious answers are usually the correct ones
but I must leave room for the unlikely answers too.
Sometimes a spade is a shovel
and a gofer is occasionally a retriever.

The world is a wonderful and fearful place
where possibilities are endless
if I am willing to allow the light
to strike these sheltered doubts.

Any day---any where --an alcoholic can stay drunk
or get sober.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 3




Where’s Your Chair?


Is the ring more unnatural for the tamer or the lion? One the trapped, the other the trapper. Who is the more in danger; the one with loss of freedom or the one with possible loss of life? And while this question is still in play the next question is begged. Why is there a ring? What is worth the price paid by the whip holder or the whipped? Spectacle is a thing whose cost reaches from the forest to the trees; can take you from the highest rung down to your knees. All this lost for some Owwe’s and Ah’s from people needing diversion from the ring they turn tricks in.




Refuse delivery of bad acts

*

HOW EVER YOU CAN

I heard --Let go with love.
You know how to do that? Asked my sponsor.
No that’s why I’m here to see you,
But it sure sounds like something I should do.

Well in a perfect world maybe we can all do it that way.
But for now let go with a mean look in your eye.
Let go with rage in your heart.
Let go with words boiling on you tongue.

Let go with the butter knife up to its hilt in the jelly jar.
Let go standing at the sink wishing for some other life.
Let go as a reflex
Let go as an anthem, as a prayer, as a declaration.

Let go even when you don’t feel you are holding on anymore.
At the same time-hold on to what’s important---
Your recovery---Your Higher Power, and your sense of humor.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 4



The Naked Not the Dead


Because comfort is sometimes no comfort I can shave my hair and walk bare in the naked world. Removing pretense helps in unexpected ways. Foolish action becomes formulaic when you are scared or hurt. I lived through the summers of blood; the winter is not enough to stem the tide or heal the wound. I have no want to raise the dead, but how to save the living? Poverty is the inheritance of so much misguided lethargy and I must shear off the illusion of maturity and let the children speak.







Bury pettiness in an unmarked grave

*
WHINING BRATS

Some days whining brats come at me from all directions
And my hair won’t curl,
Apathy chases me around the house.

I wonder how it has more energy than I do.
My mind twists into a wrinkled mess
I drag my good foot and hop on the bad one.

And even on those days I still rather be me.
I never long to be the innocent victim
Or spiritual leader, the tough guy or the Ph D.

No matter how bad it gets
Or what the struggle is
There is no place sweeter than in my head.

Many are the days I wished not to exist at all
But never to shuck my skin
for the skin of another.
.
Now that I manage breathe right
And to face each day with cheer
I know it was almost worth it
And might be worth it yet.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 5


No Reason

Reason falls through, where it lands is a place of unknown seascape and unrelenting tides. The roar in my ears furthers the disorienting effect of relocation. At first it seems easier to let go of reason but when I descend into madness I scramble for purchase; looking for sanity like a cleft in a cliff. Loss of skin and blood is nothing to compare to the loss of my mind. I believe I could be more easily separated from a limb or two than to lose rein on my brain. Reason falls through; I must follow even though the terrain is arduous and my heart is sometimes faint, for without reason there is no reason and without reason there is no life.




Write songs to the dead, sing them to the living

*

HATCHLING

When the shell gets too tight
It’s time to hatch.
I can’t tell you it’s safe out there
Just that it’s time to go.

The leaving is not easy.
Exodus fulfilled by the use of one small tooth
This experience may or may not prepare you
For the rest of your life.

So much still depends on predestination
And your attitude.
I mean are you a chicken or a hawk?
A peacock or a dove?
Or is there something of which I am unaware.

Did someone sit on your nest
Or cover it with sand?
Are you a turtle, lizard or snake?
See so much is out of your hands
But still your actions are your choice.

[PearlsNLace]

Today, sitting in a meeting I never go to, I realized that sometimes I dont know my own truth until I hear it coming from somebody elses mouth.

Greatful today, for a new chance to grow in unexpected directions.

Pearls

[LeftWriteFemme]

Today, sitting in a meeting I never go to, I realized that sometimes I dont know my own truth until I hear it coming from somebody elses mouth.

Greatful today, for a new chance to grow in unexpected directions.

Pearls

That is wonderful!!!!!! I am so glad to be sober with you!

Hugs,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 6



Nightcrawlers and Nightingales



I wriggle blind eyed through the dirt; friction, my friend giving me something to push against, resistance aiding my travels. I worm my way through life and believed that was all there was; having never seen the sky. I traveled far and wide once I had taken to the air. Open eyed I push against a thing I cannot see and peer down on the dirt I left behind. I soar rather than struggle and go the distance leaving my mind open to the next frontier.







Say what everyone knows in a way that no one thought of

*

HUMILITY

A great woman walks my street everyday.
She carries a tall walking stick with a loop for her hand.
Each morning I see her low crown of hair and the half smile,
Her friendly wave when I catch her eye.

Each morning when I see her
I see the secret play across her face--humility.
This is the secret she cannot share.
I know she would sing it from the mountain tops if it would help.
But humility is not a secret you can tell.

It’s a secret you have to live with.
As I slowly learn this precious thing I see it shine in others.
Recognition of persons with inborn dignity
And a keen understanding of their personal value lights inside me.

When I see this fine woman walking with purpose
I appreciate myself better and am so very grateful
For those who keep humility alive by living it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 7



Genius



I am often bonded to a self which thinks I know everything and when in doubt believes I should know even if I don’t. Freeing me of this requires the constant support of friends and neighbors’ assuring me that in a capricious world willingness is a more practical resource; it packs neatly and handles most jobs with aplomb. Staying consistently free from the bondage of self requires truckloads of willingness and the spirit of humility and sometimes even forgiveness. I am freer when I like myself, for the true bondage of self is the hatred of self.



Acknowledge the marks left by the street you came from

*

YES---THAT TOO

When kindness becomes weakness,
When mental agility becomes emotional instability,
It’s time to reassess everything.

I cannot leave things off my inventory
Because my Grandma, society or the preacher says
It’s a good thing to be.

Every blessing can be a curse.
All my characteristics have their dark side.
I have to list the entirety of my cargo
And keep a watchful eye.

I have to moderate my investment
In all my abilities or lose myself.
Warmth is nice but I don’t want Death Valley.

Integrity requires balance
Or depraved indifference will be the outcome.
Weak or strong, right or wrong.
It all goes on the scale.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 8




Helping Hands?


Why would you go to a rattler for a snakebite remedy? It feels so much like the hair of the dog that bit me. The truth is I must, must stay away from the quick answers. I am a slow healer, but I do heal if I allow myself to do so unencumbered by poison or untruth. When I am returning to the vomit of my past it is incumbent upon me to search for the old lies and/or the new ones, either or both will get me drunk; do I even need the help of a prescription pad?






Never cage harbingers

*

SELF-SEEKING IS A DEBIT

Trying to get credit for everything I do
Has run me into debt in my anonymity account
Which draws directly from my humility bank.

I cannot expend my resources seeking acknowledgement
And expect to retain much dignity or class.
How can I build within, while constantly grasping,
For nods and smiles from scenery and landscaping?

I want approval so much that I have lost my center.
In an attempt to top the charts I forgot my song.
My ego writes checks that my soul can’t cover.

I run my potential into the red
Looking to get my name in black and white.
If I keep my name out of lights
I have a chance of building up my dignity.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 9




Barnum, Bailey & Me


When I wake to find a whip and a chair by the side of my bed I know I am in for a circus of a day and the tears of this clown will not change a thing. I ready myself for the tightrope walk and watch out for stray elephants. All the trained poodles in the world can’t make this into a day in the park. Painted ponies prance through their paces; I try to stick to my own act, meanwhile remembering that no matter how difficult these routines may be it still beats a seat in the stands.






Raffle off the surplus grit from your nitty gritty

*

MEGAPHONE

The point of surviving
Or maybe the goal after survival
Is enabling the voices of victims to be heard
Starting with my own.

I allow the surging waves of thought and feelings
To rush the gates and exit
I try to bleed the bad
With and without the use of leaches.

So much is stumbled upon rather than sought after,
Some things hound me, I run down the street
With memory at my heels
I must let the screams out or become them.

Today I talk, tomorrow is for others.
When I pour forth I open the way for the rest
I have become the megaphone
Rather than the cheerleader
It is good to be of use.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 10



Oh the Wells Fargo Wagon



Tying myself to one rail of a set of railroad tracks gets me the same results as tying myself to the other. Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it. Not seeing potential harm does not eliminate the harm. Like a child with my hands pressed firmly over my eyes I yell, “You can’t see me,” and run headlong into disaster. Whether the train comes and makes a mess or not I make my own soup Ducky and must get on track by staying off the rails.




Go relax on the porch of your imagination

*
WILD

When I run wild through the rain
My hair streaming behind me
Water fleeing my face
I see with my heart
The thousand other rains
Pouring from my past.

How I peel from me the soaking luggage
Covering my naked pain
Nothing drives me to the cozy retreat
Of my bed like the humid chill
Of an early fall drizzle.

I slip my trembling skin between the comfort
And the comforter, flex my toes,
Towel my hair, wipe scenes of lost love
From my pale, pale soul.
Leaves rush my gutters, clog my mind.

I see the change in me as I turn heel to heel.
Trees spinning bare in a blank wet world,
I know this ever relived fluid, recycled life.

[RockOn]

Sherry, your writing here hits the nail on the head:

"Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it."

Hope things are good with you. :)

This past Tuesday and Wednesday were rough at work. Not the actual work but a noisy, very noisy women in cubicle beside me. Yesterday was better. This really gets to me sometimes when I am trying to concentrate but I love my job, specifically the technology I am working in, what I am getting to do ... plus a terrific supervisor. Yesterday it was 11:00 before I knew it ... that is always an indicator to me I am enjoying myself. Regarding the noise on previous days, it was about about sticking the earplugs in deep and accepting life on life's terms. If the earplugs are not enough, I put on my headphones and listen to some Led Zepplin tunes. Two of my women friends at work, who are terrific cooks, have been feeding me all week. They see the situation I am trying to tolerate and what is going on. Becky also made me a cake. Have you ever heard of a "sweet milk cake?" It is a wet cake and oh my gosh, the best cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate every bit of it in two days except the large hunk I gave my buddy, Jerry. He loved it too. Becky and Rosemary always feed people at work as a comfort mechanism. I have figured out it is their way of showing people they care ... it is not just me they cook for. They put the food in the refrigerator with my name on it, then send me an email that morning. I appreciate them so much but I had difficulty buttoning my pants yesterday morning. :( I need to back off the goodies this weekend - cannot stand too tight clothes.

There was an older guy at the noon meeting on Labor Day (Monday) who had time and relapsed for one day on Sunday. He shared about it when it was his turn. I knew when I sat down one chair over from him at the beginning of the meeting that something was wrong. He was so dumbfounded, so filled with enormous shame and humiliation, said family members had regained all their trust in him and then he let them down when he picked up. Sherry, I felt so bad for him. Sunday was one year since his wife's death. If we chose, we can use any excuse. I know this but still my heart went out to him. He was so emotionally banged up. Cunning, baffling, powerful - it is true!

My sponsor was in New York City for a week. She got home on Wednesday. Her mother came home with her with her to visit. They met there for holiday and to visit Cheryl's brother. I get to meet her mother tomorrow and am pretty excited. Cheryl is having a get together at her house, she mentioned a cook out by the pool so this will be fun. I am chairing the Women's 6:00 Sunday night meetings for the next three weeks. I will be researching a topic before then - time to dig around in our AA literature. Chairing is so good for me because it puts me more in the books.

My new dog, Kevin Daniel, is a wonderful blessing. He and Kelly, my female, love each other. I tell you, she is smiling now all the time. Poor baby needed a companion to keep her company while I am at work. I whisper in her ear "Do you like him, do you like Kevin?" I wish you could see her face when I ask her this. She immediately wags her tail and starts licking my hand. They know each other's names.

Wow, I sure was chatty here. I am aware I get quite verbose a lot of the time. LOL!

Loved the new photos of you and Tommi in the gallery.
Time to shower and get to work.
Happy Friday and hope you have a fantastic weekend. :)
Brock

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 11



Louet


Consolidating fuzz into yarn makes me a friend to sheep everywhere. Spinning the filaments of truth into cables of life does not impress the mutton in anyway, but sure does my mental health a world of good. Free floating fiber is bad for my lungs and piles lint all around. Giving things a firm twist pulls together what used to be fluff and keeps me warm and dry.





Jones for candor


*
WORKS

I cry the waterworks so necessary to the healing of my heart.
I explode with the fireworks required
For anger to set living boundaries.

I sleep the sleep of angels, as I link to dream works
Allowing mental maintenance to occur,
Slip into my political face, making time for public works.

I return to my abode, call the pie maker and order “the works”.
Have it delivered so I can face the homework
Waiting for me and baring my name.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 12



Hypothetical


Is my inability to understand what creates mystery? If I were brighter, swifter, keener, would life be free of unknown communion? Would comprehension eliminate revelation? Would I lose perceptual apprehension by arming myself with knowledge of forethought? Could I end mysticism through education? Should I even if I could?





Sample other people’s assets

*
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS



Like my new frames? I ask my sponsor
Who wrote you prescription?
Oh the lenses aren’t new just the frames, I reply.

You want to be seen differently,
but you want to see things the same old way?
My question still stands---
Who wrote you the script for those funhouse glasses
you have used all your life?

Did it ever occur to you the distortion is ground into the glass?
Remember some people need you to see things other than what they are.
Unhappy families look great if you can’t see them too clearly.

It’s hard to know what to say to keep the peace--said Grandma.
She never took off her specs to see there was no peace to keep.
So I ask you again --The view of the world you base your choices on
who chose the color you see it through?

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 13


Cadentia



The randomness of love is matched only by the randomness of loss. What slips into view or out of grasp whispers beyond my control. Like cookies baking in a nearby oven I long for the sweetness to be inside; even if it is simply in an olfactory way. The similarity of the pain of what I have and the pain of what is no longer mine haunts me; scares my security, rattles my hope, affects my sleep. For minutes make a life and moments are all it takes to remove the very same. In the end all that I know is that loss does not remove love and love does not remove loss.







Check your drawers for memories
*

SCREAMING LETHARGY

The screaming lethargy of being alive
after many years of wanting something else.
The exhaustion of pulsing, breathing waves,
waves of thinking.

Yet as tired as I am, I am.
Here without a doubt, I stand.
No crawling, for I have not fallen.
No climbing, for I have reached the plain.

I wait for the rain to wash over me.
The truth to run through me, time to pass by me.
Like a free trip to an unwelcome destination
I arrive with randomly packed bags and low expectations.

I am here now.
The train doesn’t seem to be moving on.
I might as well leave the station.
Nothing to do on the platform.

There may be points of interest
or flowers to be smelled.
I step haltingly and fear making any connection
to this unbidden place.

My name is unknown.
I befriend the lamppost, the birds, the street.
I am tired from travel,
Fearful of arrival.

Fury courses through my veins
but the weather is pleasant.
I might take off my coat and stay.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 14



Heartfelt


Boab trees litter my dreams; gossipy like old women in the late afternoon sun, I wonder at the tales they tell though I am far too young to understand. The Australian Kimberly shelters these mysteries in life; they shelter me in the far off wilderness of my mind. Coming to age seems merely a step when in the presence of the ancient beauty of long endured life. Too long drought, too deep rain, are places I can pick my face up from, stand my ground or be on my way. The leaves may fall, but they will return in my dreams and I will return to my life.





Chime in
*

HOME TO HOPE

Shadows of doubt fall across my face on dark days
And I have trouble finding my way home to hope.
Reliance on sunshine fails me come dusk.

Twinkling stars bare their souls to little avail.
I am lost.
Absurdity and obsession plague me for time and attention.

I wander deeper into a dismal wood.
How can I chop my way free?
Dejection dulls my senses, I am blind to solemn assurance.

I must reevaluate the shimmering enthusiasm from the night sky
Skepticism passes like storm clouds.
I may feel the rain for a time.

Necessity reigns on both sides of every street
But still I can crawl into my bed
Morning will come and I will fear less the coming night.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 15



Warhol Wouldn’t Be


There is no trick to art. If I work to make my pieces fit with the familiar I lose my individuality. If I make what is truly me I fear there is no line in which to stand. I must make the work, find the market, live life and die happy; all this with no map and a world filled with people who tell me what to do, but none who can guarantee the outcome. My unwillingness to fight, to look at and feel the ugliness of life is at the core of my impediment.



Except change then accept change

*

LINEAGE



People stand in the cue and I stare,
Lost in contemplation and compliance
I weigh the conflicts and complications.

Is this the method to clear identification?
I think I am better known for the lines I’ve crossed,
The times I press between warm souls
And force myself to the area beyond.

How can I wait my turn for generational stew
When the fruit trees bear life for those who break free
From ruts and rumbles to bite deeply the flesh of the future?

I can’t stand here though I love so many in this line.
I cannot love the line itself.
I must step through, breathe,
Stretch my legs and mind.

Take leave of grids and locks
Living a lonelier but healthier life
All caused by a change in direction.

[LeftWriteFemme]

Hey Brock!

Sorry it has taken me so long to write back, the days have been flying away from me. I am in the book building process of the new coloring books that Tommi collaborated with me to create. I love hys work, hy is such a fine artist! I am so delighted to have my work next to hys, this is pretty exciting for me!

I hope this week has been better for you at work! It must be hard to say no when women are cooking for you. I grew up in a family where food was love, if someone meant something to you cooking was the way to convey that. I still haven't gotten over it either, when I fly to west to see Tommi, filling hys freezer with individual containers of my cooking is a very important task to me. I know hy says not to worry about it, but I feel like that is a demonstration of my affection.

It is so cool that the dogs know each other's names and that they like each other! What a great pair they must be!

I'm glad you liked what I wrote, that means a whole bunch to me!

I hope the guy whose wife died is doing okay, it is tough on folks when they relapse. I will keep him in my prayers.

You are in my prayers too. I wish you well, Brock. Have a great rest of the week!

Sherrie


Sherry, your writing here hits the nail on the head:

"Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it."

Hope things are good with you. :)

This past Tuesday and Wednesday were rough at work. Not the actual work but a noisy, very noisy women in cubicle beside me. Yesterday was better. This really gets to me sometimes when I am trying to concentrate but I love my job, specifically the technology I am working in, what I am getting to do ... plus a terrific supervisor. Yesterday it was 11:00 before I knew it ... that is always an indicator to me I am enjoying myself. Regarding the noise on previous days, it was about about sticking the earplugs in deep and accepting life on life's terms. If the earplugs are not enough, I put on my headphones and listen to some Led Zepplin tunes. Two of my women friends at work, who are terrific cooks, have been feeding me all week. They see the situation I am trying to tolerate and what is going on. Becky also made me a cake. Have you ever heard of a "sweet milk cake?" It is a wet cake and oh my gosh, the best cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate every bit of it in two days except the large hunk I gave my buddy, Jerry. He loved it too. Becky and Rosemary always feed people at work as a comfort mechanism. I have figured out it is their way of showing people they care ... it is not just me they cook for. They put the food in the refrigerator with my name on it, then send me an email that morning. I appreciate them so much but I had difficulty buttoning my pants yesterday morning. :( I need to back off the goodies this weekend - cannot stand too tight clothes.

There was an older guy at the noon meeting on Labor Day (Monday) who had time and relapsed for one day on Sunday. He shared about it when it was his turn. I knew when I sat down one chair over from him at the beginning of the meeting that something was wrong. He was so dumbfounded, so filled with enormous shame and humiliation, said family members had regained all their trust in him and then he let them down when he picked up. Sherry, I felt so bad for him. Sunday was one year since his wife's death. If we chose, we can use any excuse. I know this but still my heart went out to him. He was so emotionally banged up. Cunning, baffling, powerful - it is true!

My sponsor was in New York City for a week. She got home on Wednesday. Her mother came home with her with her to visit. They met there for holiday and to visit Cheryl's brother. I get to meet her mother tomorrow and am pretty excited. Cheryl is having a get together at her house, she mentioned a cook out by the pool so this will be fun. I am chairing the Women's 6:00 Sunday night meetings for the next three weeks. I will be researching a topic before then - time to dig around in our AA literature. Chairing is so good for me because it puts me more in the books.

My new dog, Kevin Daniel, is a wonderful blessing. He and Kelly, my female, love each other. I tell you, she is smiling now all the time. Poor baby needed a companion to keep her company while I am at work. I whisper in her ear "Do you like him, do you like Kevin?" I wish you could see her face when I ask her this. She immediately wags her tail and starts licking my hand. They know each other's names.

Wow, I sure was chatty here. I am aware I get quite verbose a lot of the time. LOL!

Loved the new photos of you and Tommi in the gallery.
Time to shower and get to work.
Happy Friday and hope you have a fantastic weekend. :)
Brock

[Soft*Silver]

I am going to two AA meetings tomorrow! Well, actually, they are coming to me!

One during the day, with my sponsor. She is bringing people over to plant my shrubs and then are staying to hold a meeting for me since I cant get out for another week to ten days.

My AA buddy is coming over late afternoon and bringing some girls from rehab and holding a meeting for me here before they head out to their huge meeting that night.

I need some meetings too. While I talk with people over the phone and on the internet, I need connection....

[LeftWriteFemme]

I am going to two AA meetings tomorrow! Well, actually, they are coming to me!

One during the day, with my sponsor. She is bringing people over to plant my shrubs and then are staying to hold a meeting for me since I cant get out for another week to ten days.

My AA buddy is coming over late afternoon and bringing some girls from rehab and holding a meeting for me here before they head out to their huge meeting that night.

I need some meetings too. While I talk with people over the phone and on the internet, I need connection....


I hope you have great meetings!!! I agree with you keeping connected is so important to me, too!!!

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 16




Hand Washing


I live a simple life now; I handle life as it is dished up. I no longer need to make use of the dish prison. Living an orderly active life I find it untenable to have my favorite spoon or bowl held hostage until I make enough mess to run the dishwasher through. I don’t live an ‘Eight is Enough’ type existence and need not burden my psyche trying to save my hands a little soap. I save the Cascade for visits to waterfalls, Jet Dry for landing strips.




Smile with all the parts of your face

*

DEATH PRACTICE

Why do you practice death like it were a skill?
Do you fear you lack ability, or because it’s your goal
Have you made it your hobby?
Beleaguered by the questions of my sponsor
I search quickly for some believable response.

I confused calm with death
And thought I was practicing the former.
Death came for a holiday
How could I refuse it.
It’s a test drive, if I like it I can keep it.

My sponsor doesn’t think I’m funny.
Check your motives, wants and desires,
Make sure death is what you really want,
That it’s not just your fallback position
Because you fear life.

Don’t get me wrong
I hope death is a good thing
But why try to chew tomorrows food
When your plate is full of today?

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 17




Ovoid



I can pretend at this normal life for a period of time then the plaster starts to crack on this white picket fence and it’s all down hill from there. I am better than I was; I am happier and more well adjusted, yet I am still far from fitting with the standard fittings, I am an off size, my threads run counter to the average fixture, I spent too much time on the rack to resemble anything from off the rack. It’s not that I am so special; it is just that I am Special Ed. Performance anxiety and paranoia regularly take me out of round though even with these kept at bay I am not your normal nut. I assure you that you can dress me up and take me out, just don’t try to take me home.





Remind yourself of your friends

*

WEE HOURS



In the wee hours I hear the high pitched wail
the tiny pest whining in my ear
the onset of my thin stretched nerves reaching their end.

A few more hours are required of me tonight
I rally my spirit and lift the edges of my willing resolve.
Long slow nights carry me to far corners of my mind.

I am more average than I had imagined or hoped for.
The commonness of four AM brings base to disclosure
the charmed exposure of predawn wakefulness.

The fuzzy vibrations in my brain make me feel deep and real
Vulnerable to all the normal limitations of nature and caprice.
The sun will rise, ending this night.
My sentry over I will fall to earth, and rest, and bed.

[RockOn]

Hey hey ... Friday is here.

Been chairing more meetings lately. My sponsor ask me to chair one last night for her that she was signed up to chair. It was a Beginner's Meeting. I chose "The Turning Point" for my topic. I enjoyed it more than I can say.

I have been talking to a very new newcomer after meetings lately - encouraging her. She has been attending a meeting every day for the past couple of weeks. She is young, hope she will stick with it. I love to see the young ones come in and get on the safe path. Too much can happen when we are out there in our cups. Sometimes the downhill decline can be so deceiving. That position renders us hopeless. I can see this young lady's eyes are perking up. She is getting some hope back. :)

I love recovery!

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 18



Buffoon


Never juggle knives and butter at the same time or you will just spread your problems around. Passing on the knives is the first best idea, leaving the butter in the dish is the second. I have gotten many funny schemes into my brain; gotten them in with ease, it is the getting them out of my brain I struggle with. Crowbars and coercion have been my favored tools; ineffective though they may be, I am persistent, while wishing to be dexterous. It took me years to realize the problem with juggling is that it begins with me throwing things and ends with disaster if I can’t catch it all. What slips through my fingers through daily living is hard enough what I throw into the fray for showmanship is, too much. I needn’t be the fool flinging my pins when my goal is to stay on them.




Learn a song in case of karaoke kidnapping

*

OLD BOOKKEEPING, NEW PAINTING

What will become of the fine lines
I use to divide good news form bad?
How will I handle life with no screen to keep
the silt from shifting across my personal landscape.

A delicate crosshatch had kept little checks in little boxes
Now the checks are bouncing randomly,
No pattern or restraint.
My old bookkeeping has come to an abrupt end
Leaving many questions and much uncertainty.

I lift the green visor from my brow,
Looking for answers from the periphery.
Taking the long view
I put down my pencil and pick up my paints.

Sling the easel over my shoulder
And walk away from meticulous survival.
The fine lines I have now are in my brush strokes
And even bad news is somehow good.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 19

Nameless Strange


I am nameless strange and you don’t know me, not anymore. Dismissed as an unread book; sent away with covers torn off. The bad weather that you love keeps you indoors eating hot curry and thinking foolish thoughts. What narcissism separates you and me? After blinking eyes you find our sameness, bend near me and whisper my name.






Have faith in fruit






*
A LITTLE EXTRA HOPE

What will you do with a little extra hope?
Asked my quizzical sponsor.
What good is a little hope?
My retort.

A little hope got you sober,
What can you do with a little more?
Could you take out your dreams
And fly them on a breeze?

Could you throw yourself
Into a wave of intention
And see if you could ride it out?
Breathe easier, smile broader?

Take my hand tighter
And walk the road awhile longer
Before you run for refuge?

Let me ask a better question.
What couldn’t you do with a little more hope?
-----------FAIL-----------

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 20


Toolbox


I know just how hard it is to pick up the right tools. It's like I know I have a hammer in the drawer, in fact I have two, so, why oh, why do I feel compelled to hit things with the heel of my shoe? Trust and believe it is ineffective at best; additionally it is embarrassing. I wish I could say I have done this a handful of times, unfortunately, I have done it over and over, it’s hell on my shoes and worse on my morale. Using what is at hand or foot may seem practical, but it is not prudent. Walking myself through the step by step process; reading and following directions is easier but only when I disengage the lie that says it’s harder.





Build a canopy over elucidation

*

SAFETY IN MY CHAIR

Sometimes
I have to sit with my knees
Tucked up under my chin
My feet can’t touch the floor
At these moments I hug my legs to me.

I feel contained
But somehow adrift in my chair.
I center my mind on breath and pulse
Pure fear flits and flutters
While I gain my composure.

When I feel safe enough
To put one foot down
Then the other and connect
With the world again.

I am leaving home to embark this earthly trek
The journey is there for me everyday
But some days I curl up in my chair.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 21



Mercy


The rearview holds the vision, the sad figure on the corner as I drive away, all that is left to me are memories of G-d, the rest I ejected and sped from as fast as I could. I cannot face what is left when I make G-d homeless and unloved. Though living together was tough sometimes, living alone is unbearable. Nothing cooks right, cleans right, tastes right or smells right, even the moon won’t rise right when I am strictly on my own. And G-d wasn’t built for the streets, that corner is not someplace my Higher Power fits in. We are meant to be together and apart the world spins off its measure. Pitiful is what I am, so I swing around the block, fling open the door and take pity on G-d and go home.








Make time for lullabies
*
BELLS

The bells are ringing but no one sings
There are no peals of laughter and that’s just fine
For pleasure is not he only response to sound.
Shock and distain are other options, too.

I have what I want in relationship to the buzz in my ear
Equal opportunity attitude, pro and con.
Some songs bring joy when they end.

I have to lower my expectation of pleasure
And value my distaste for tinkling sounds
Or any other preordained sweetness.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 22



No Jin



I molested the touch control lamp. I had no trouble turning it on, but could never figure how to turn it off; therefore I let the light shine in the daytime. I called looking for guidance, “lick your fingers then try again,” was the glib suggestion. I offered that I was not interested in becoming that intimate with said lamp. Sometimes connections are made easily, other times they cannot be made at all, still there are times the renewal of a connection is determined by my willingness to up the ante. Am I willing to put a little spit into the effort or will I leave the light to burn?








Invent small pleasures

*

WILLING PIECRUST

I lay the crust of my will over the pie plate of Gods’ will for me.
I must have the willingness to trim off the excess.
I hesitate--- I worked hard to roll it out.

I know from past experience when hot issues come up
These tags and hanging-ons burn and drop
Sometimes ruining the flavor and appearance of the whole.

It is easier to cut loose the things outside God-given intent.
I get the pie in its entirety when I crimp and bend
To the shape of my life.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 23



Peace Time


I have been to the wars and through the wars and now sit on the stoop and wonder; will I learn to live here in the world of everyday after having had to spend so much time running for cover. Each time I return to what I believe is my home I sit and rock trying to pour my soul back inside from my hipflask where it was held for safekeeping. I try not to spill a drop for it is worse than shed blood and harder to rebuild. My soul has grown pale from confinement and lack of sun, but it still exists and for that I pat my back and suck on my Lifesaver; I could have done worse, was unable to do better. I console myself with the knowledge I never started the conflict just learned to survive it.





Substitute action for apathy



*

REMEMBERING

Remembering is the oxygen my brain pumps to my soul.
Remembering gives me mobility and traction.
Everything in my life that is positive depends on my remembering.
It keeps apathy at bay
And complacency locked in some far off cupboard.

Remembering gives today the misty sweetness I have grown to love.
I can live to my potential and enjoy the process.
Watch misery move away.
I can dream the future every night
Because I remember who I am and what I am capable of.

Never can I be haunted.
Memory keeps me from reactionary visitation.
Though some fear the past
I know holding it in a close embrace
Allows me to dance to the rhythm of truth.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 24


What is Dear?


I am angry that I was taught I must hold on for dear life instead of being taught that life is dear, but they couldn’t teach me what they didn’t know and couldn’t know what they had not discovered for themselves. I wish I had learned earlier to love the life I was taught to cling to, but I am grateful I have been bound to life long enough to find the joy in it. I have found that knowing joy causes me to cling all the more, cling in sweetness to what was once such a bitter task. I am angry for what I wasn’t taught, but sadder still for what they didn’t know and all that is lost in their lives to ignorance and tradition. I wanted better for them and they wanted better for me and this is the circle which closes around the dear that I hold onto.




Make room for running starts

*
FRUSTRATING IMPROVEMENT


Improvement is frustrating, lonely and yet exhilarating.
It somehow starts with moths in the stomach
And ends with warm soup satisfaction.

Struggling, waiting, followed by further struggle
Progress made by tugging one string then the other.
It is hard to accept scaling the ropes alone
But tottering assent is always this way.

Once at the top I realize how easily I could slide to the bottom
Sometimes friction is all that keeps me up.
Establishing a new altitude is challenging.

I must ground myself in a new way.
My talents hinder and aid me.
I must open the correct doors in my mind
And avoid the traps in the floor.

Stuttering through requirements and obligations
I transform but only slowly.
Earning each drop of comfort from a job just done.

[Tommi]

September 24
What is Dear?

I am angry that I was taught I must hold on for dear life instead of being taught that life is dear, but they couldn’t teach me what they didn’t know and couldn’t know what they had not discovered for themselves. I wish I had learned earlier to love the life I was taught to cling to, but I am grateful I have been bound to life long enough to find the joy in it. I have found that knowing joy causes me to cling all the more, cling in sweetness to what was once such a bitter task. I am angry for what I wasn’t taught, but sadder still for what they didn’t know and all that is lost in their lives to ignorance and tradition. I wanted better for them and they wanted better for me and this is the circle which closes around the dear that I hold onto.

I like this daily inspiration .This is a cleary where we come and go. Thanks for all your service work. "Stay in the main tent, and out of the sideshow" as "they" say.

Good'day ;)....An oldtimer

[LeftWriteFemme]

I like this daily inspiration .This is a cleary where we come and go. Thanks for all your service work. "Stay in the main tent, and out of the sideshow" as "they" say.

Good'day ;)....An oldtimer




Thank you, Daddy, it has been a long path from where we've been to where we are going. I will try hard to stay out of the sideshow.

the girl

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 25




No Dialing Tonight.



When it is late at night and I can’t sleep I wander and putter and plan my dreams. I hold out hopes and wash their faces; pray for rain and clean all traces. Thunderstorms rumble and lightning strikes; I tune up the plumbing and wipe down the pipes. All the paint and promises in the world won’t change me; I’m still lost in the dark without you. Tear stains are friendly till I wash them away leaving blotchy eyes that can’t be explained; an aching heart that keeps on ticking and wishes that can’t come true. Sunday morning is here, too, soon and life rolls on whether you think it should. Tiny thoughts come out to play and sad, sad fears keep them at bay. But the dog is curled up under the covers without a care; I long to disturb her but do not dare. She is the queen here and I’m but the naïve; I’ll tend to my writing and try to be brave. For the dawn will follow this endless nocturne; the whole world will be safe once more. I will cry but it’s all too late; though you are merely a phone call away.





Find the place where noise and music intersect

*
ALARM CLOCK

The dream killer plays its harsh tones.
I pull my lids, so unwilling to wake.
The tip of my tongue dry to leather
Welcomes the wet of my toothbrush
I grin a foaming smile.

I run through my night travels
I mentally wonder the highlights
Ponder the implications and meanings.

Dressed, with open door breeze in my face
I leave nighttime escapades
For daytime pandemonium.
The only thing I won’t leave behind
Is the last image before the gong sounded.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 26




Green Wood

When a nail is hammered into a living tree, the tree is forever changed. Even if the barb is pulled out the tree will never be the same. If the spike remains and the tree lives; over time the nail will be incorporated, the tree will get on with the business of living and carry the thing as just a part of what it took to get here. What was trauma is trauma, but life is big and the longer it gets the larger the life, is the hope. Piercing experience is engulfed by rings of fresh wood and a will to grow beyond the moment of impact. The tree branches out and even a hundred nails can’t stop that.







Educate domination when you can and cage it when you have to

*

VIRGINIA CREEPER

In a clearing grows a vine
As seasons change the leaves turn pale.
This type of vine grows throughout the woods
But does it grow pale everywhere
Or only in the sunlit space?

I see the trembling of the lovely foliage
And wonder the destiny of the flora.
Does growth have a will of it own?
Does it grow to light or is it a must?

Can I turn my face
Even if Virginia Creeper cannot?
And if I can------------
Should I just to prove a point?

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 27





One Street off Amory



Apology holds change at arms length. Apology is the thing I was taught to wait for as a sign that things will improve, but apology is not a harbinger of change it is quite the opposite it is the guarantor of business as usual; no amendment need occur, apology has been made and life goes on with no alteration. Without variation we all stay sick and apologizing for that won’t get us better. Restitution, amends, revelation, revolution these are the things which make the world bright, apology is just a scrap with which to wipe your ass.







Put down your bat, skip your rope

*

ALSO A GIFT

Sadness is as life affirming as joy
But in the same way that people eat together
But defecate alone, joy is encouraged in public
And sadness is a private matter.

Happiness is embraced and discouragement relegated
Even though personal experience shows disappointment
Is often a point of growth.

What beauty and change stem from disillusion
But still it is hard to look directly
At grief and not flinch away.
The temptation to fain pleasure
And leave sadness swept under the carpet is strong.

It is an unwelcome job to be the defender of grief
A job which should be unnecessary to defend
We are not giants who can step
From one mountaintop to the next.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 28



A Verse to the Wise



Encoding truth into poetry makes reality survivable by giving readers the opportunity to dig truth up like diamonds. Throwing certainty in peoples faces like cold water give them a wake up call but nothing to embrace. The beauty of semaphore is the dance that need not be understood by everyone who sees it. Communication through device leaves headroom and breathing space while acceptance might be reached. The current of a conversation often leads me to face the facts, but a tsunami of candor could drown me.







Exhaust reaction with reason


*
DENY ONE---DENY THE OTHER

If you want to deny the problem
By necessity you must deny the solution.
Resolving a problem whose existence is rejected
Creates a split in the crust of collusion.

Often times the convolution and reconvolution of addiction
Causes a bloated roiling mass
That rolls through the streets of sanity.
How can a wedge be cut in a creature so dense.

How can I work on piecing together remedies
When I am readily assured by fellow sufferers
There is NO DISEASE?
Can I trust my personal depletions?

Can I employ faith to a resolution
When faith is utilized to fortify
The contagion I/m told doesn’t exist
But if not faith what?

[Tommi]

September 28

A Verse to the Wise

Encoding truth into poetry makes reality survivable by giving readers the opportunity to dig truth up like diamonds. Throwing certainty in peoples faces like cold water give them a wake up call but nothing to embrace. The beauty of semaphore is the dance that need not be understood by everyone who sees it. Communication through device leaves headroom and breathing space while acceptance might be reached. The current of a conversation often leads me to face the facts, but a tsunami of candor could drown me.
Exhaust reaction with reason

This sure is you. Glad to know the Left Writing Femme.

[LeftWriteFemme]

This sure is you. Glad to know the Left Writing Femme.

Yes, it's a lesson I have to learn over and over again. I am sure glad to know YOU!

[TenderKnight]

Hello, all :)

Just wanted to post a quick update.. Have been MIA lately due to taking care of myself. That included a 10 day stay on a locked mental ward, 10 days at a crisis house, and a couple of weeks at a sober living. I am now on my way to a residential treatment, and will be in with the other males, so am pretty happy about it.

I have about 70 days clean and sober and am taking my meds as I am supposed to. Life is good and getting better, day by day.

Thank you all for your past and continued support, will get on here to post when I can. Hope that everyone is well and I will be checking back here later tonight, but will be offline for 2 months or more after tonight, due to being in treatment.

Love and Light,
Tony

[LeftWriteFemme]

Good luck with your treatment, TenderKnight!

Wishing you well,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 29


Kicks


New balance is more than a brand of sneakers. New balance is a joyful revelation made possible through constant vigilance. I am tap dancing into a vision, no more soft shoed wishfulness. I can lift my feet knowing I can keep my up right posture; my musculature robust from climbing the steps and accepting direction. This bright tempo delights me; I feel stretched, supple, able bodied. Life off the balance beam offers me the world in which to embrace my equilibrium.






Pick up your toys, pick up your chin and move on


*
CATCH

How can my sensibility catch my intellect
Or find a map with enough information
To get my heart to the current location of my mind?

What are the common markers recognized by soul and brain?
I know the pulse of my wrist
Is counter pointing the firing of my synapses.

My life signs run their course
And I struggle to find the intersections
I long for more than signposts and curbing.

I would like parallels, paradigms and conclusions
There must be a place of common home and hearth.
I am looking for the depot of my life
I hope I hit it before I hit the coast.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 30



Moniker


The Hurt carry on the tradition, would never think to give it up, don’t even know there is that option, strap on their weapons without a second thought. How can there be a second thought when there never was a first. Hurt is a reflex and it moves its way through the world like dominoes tumbling; everything’s knocked down before you ever saw it standing. So, what’s the use anyway? So, I fall down and in that action push you forward and we are all together in the mud, but it is so hard to recognize anyone in the mud, including myself and especially you. If I hurt you that makes it hard for me to see anything about you except my wish for your departure, which I subconsciously hope will take away the guilt I can’t afford to feel. If I make it out of the mud I can’t afford anything, but if I don’t pay up I’ll be in new mud soon, so I must break tradition and the first step toward that is seeing it and the second is calling it by its name.





Open up your secret vault and unload

*

BATTLESHIP

If the first is a guess, what is the second?
Paranoia or worse.?
Action is a blessing, reaction a debilitation
And to twist from reaction to self-doubt
Sinks the battle and the battleship.

When I can’t make sense, the gift is stepping back,
Better to put my hand down than to lose the farm.
When I find myself in a minefield I can walk gingerly
Or wait for aid to come from above, air rescue or other.

The option of rethinking every step sets me dancing
The tune which begins this hurky jerky polka of death which
Stems from the metronome of criticism playing in my ear.

When I am overwhelmed with critique
I give up acceptance of chance or joy of spontaneity
Throwing myself into a pit of apprehension.
I am safer being wrong occasionally
Then unsure forever