Friends of Bill W.

[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]

Originally Posted by 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

This sure is you. Glad to know the Left Writing Femme.

[LeftWriteFemme]

Originally Posted by Tommi

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