Friends of Bill W.

[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.