Friends of Bill W.

[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. Just 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.

[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 need to 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.

[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 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