Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 4



Have Faith




Strange and wonderful tragedy takes you away from me and I don’t know how it is that you return, but you do and I thank G-d, but I’m not sure it was G-d’s idea that you went away or that you came back, though, I am sure, He missed you every bit as much as I did. I revolve the freshness of you in my mouth like candy; I swirl, but don’t want to crack open. Honeymoons are for people who live comprehendible lives; we fly to each other and cling like raptors plummeting to the ground. You leave your mark upon me I do the same for you; we are none the worse for the wear. I stand in the gush from the hydrant, soaked in the pleasure, forgoing the safety. The world may burn down again tomorrow, I remember that it has before, but I am wiser for the singeing and weathered with soot in my eyes and charcoal piled roundabout my legs, yet I’m still standing and you are back from the dead and I think of you as Lazarus. And now we will live the comedy for life is what lay ahead, we took the hit of death before its time and so must be off the hook for the rest.




Try not to long for Santa

*

FISHING FOR CONTENTMENT

Fishing for contentment
Is a wonderful past time.
But what is used for bait?

Is there a delicacy
To dangle before contentment
To lure it into my life?

Can I crumble the best biscotti
And leave a trail to my door?
I don’t believe contentment
Swims around waiting to be caught.

I think it’s more like the wild yeast
That finds its way to my starter.
If I put the ingredients in my life
Contentment will rise to the occasion.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 5



Jeopardy



Today I tore down the isolation booth. I didn’t live in there exactly; sometimes I stuffed G-d in there and went out for a ride. I left that shack stand for far, too long; a testimony to ill conceived, ham-handed, control freaks everywhere. I said all I wanted was some peace, but a vacuum is not tranquility and escape won’t substitute either. Since the live studio audience has gone home and the house lights are dimmed, I feel pretty foolish for playing round after round on my own. This game was never any fun and the sponsors were death merchants and scavengers whose interest lay in destruction and nothing else. I must not cast aspersions, I didn’t care that the contest was merely an upright pit with a lethal pendulum, I used it as a hideout and a lair, a place whose walls I could keep between me and my Higher Power and an activity I could depend on to keep me free from living a life. It all came to the ground today; I walk over the splinters and shards, I know there has to be a better game and I’m ready to play.





Picture trouble floating away like bubbles on a river

*
MY HEROINE

The corpse that is my childhood
Is mine to protect from the wolves
And rats of denial and collusion.

The infant who commits suicide
In self-defense is my heroine.
The pure thinking of an uncluttered mind
Seizes on the only possible way for me to survive.

Her death at her own is my rescue
If the bad had killed her
I would have died with her.

In her plan I was left as the seed
She ejected in her assent
She is gone from this place
I feel her only as the wisp of memory.

The tiny body laid flat on the carpet
Her pressed pinafore somehow more alive than she
Is the unfinished business of prevention.

As long as I see her there and do not walk away
From my responsibility and never forget
She protected me with the life she never lived
I am free to live this life.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 6





MCBuddLake


Barefoot smokers sit downstairs chatting on cell phones as I wait. Wait for the Doctor to come and tell me what? Tell me that I am ill or hail based on a hammer hit on the knee and a deep look into my eyes and I will leave this place hours late for a life I barely understand but am grateful to be living. Like one of the dancing flowers from Fantasia I am swept down stream, but an amazing journey even while I wait in this six by eight room.





Sprinkle letters on a page and write to them

*


MARMALADE

Marmalade, bitter and sweet, spread across my spiritual toast.
Zest and sticky solution, mix and cover the surface.
I bite down taking in the start of my day.

Past this point anything is possible.
Fame or disaster, a dreary fog filled morning
Or a cloudless afternoon.

See the passing populous
I alternating advance and retreat from this human wall.
Response and responsibility tattletale their way to my reactionary will.

The tightrope sways over the river of potential
Balance is more than a desire, it is a necessity
So I enjoy my breakfast tea.

I watch the marmalade melt as I dip my bread
In my well-steeped brew, the parade will start soon enough
I need this time before I launch into the fray.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 7



What Oliver Could not Know


One of the complications of being an orphan is not learning about the failings and foibles which visit themselves on all parents. Living estranged from G-d has this same blind spot. When you live with someone day in and day out you understand their dimensions; depravation causes celebrity and the casting of very large shadows in some very odd places. The intimate knowledge of a guardian allows for relaxation and experimentation. Isolation creates an overload of anticipation; fear of risk and the yearning for attention swing a pendulum to the point of weaponry. Familiarity is a breeding ground, which means many things grow. Life in a vacuum is devoid of life and nothing grows up.







Lock away things forever and they only have imaginary meaning

*





HAWAIIAN GRAFFITI

White pebbles spell themselves
across the black of lava grown cold.
Personal announcements proclaim
love, school pride, religious freedom.

The care of placement and consideration of design
make the roadside an on going mineral memo.
What message would I care to share?
What words would prompt me to bring a pail
of crushed marble to the edge of the road.

Is there a truth so urgent I would take time
from paradise to spell it out?
A few more miles and I see the words I live by
strewn down the thoroughfare-------

IT WORKS-----IF YOU WORK IT.

[RockOn]

Meeting with the Sponsor Lady this weekend to go through my latest assignments from her. She loaded me up good with reading several topics in our literature. I will enjoy spending time with her ... and eating too! Hope it will be IHOP. A stack of pancakes dripping with syrup always sounds excellent. I really do watch her - to see how she handles life on life's terms. Sometimes it can be a little everyday small thing that trips me up ... that is when I go into "brat mode" without realizing it. I really have to beware of the "small issues." My magical magnifying brain can turn them into major disasters if I am not paying close attention. Yes, I intend to keep coming back. Even on not so good days, recovery is still a pretty good deal ... and light years better than the alternative.

Today I chose recovery.

[LeftWriteFemme]

Originally Posted by Brock

Meeting with the Sponsor Lady this weekend to go through my latest assignments from her. She loaded me up good with reading several topics in our literature. I will enjoy spending time with her ... and eating too! Hope it will be IHOP. A stack of pancakes dripping with syrup always sounds excellent. I really do watch her - to see how she handles life on life's terms. Sometimes it can be a little everyday small thing that trips me up ... that is when I go into "brat mode" without realizing it. I really have to beware of the "small issues." My magical magnifying brain can turn them into major disasters if I am not paying close attention. Yes, I intend to keep coming back. Even on not so good days, recovery is still a pretty good deal ... and light years better than the alternative.

Today I chose recovery.

I hope you have wonderful pancakes and a great time with your sponsor!

I know just what you mean about the magical magnifying mind, I have one of those too. I get caught out there with that thing much more often than I can sometimes bear. It's a good thing I can start my day over at any time!

Have fun,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 8



Wasilla


I don’t appreciate those who wear ignorance as a fashion accessory, but then I have to work too hard, not to wear intolerance as a badge of courage, so what can I really say, while I’m on this topic, what kind of game is “Playing Dumb” where do we get with that as the vehicle? I don’t know why grown folks act like corralled farm animals, nor do I comprehend the idea of salvation through unnecessary sacrifice, but here I am in a society riddled with it and I try not to drink in the face of this idiocy. This is a job for which I am unprepared, I have spent so much time feeling my internal lacking that when facing the siphon created by the general public I start looking for a glass and some ice to tinkle, but I have tried this before and it solved nothing. I can climb under this pile of human failing or try to crawl on top, but what I really must learn is to look at it without a drink in my hand.





Count displaced souls
*


REFLECTIONS OF YOU

When people meet me they listen and stare
Then the familiar words tumble from their mouths,
“There is something about you”.

I know it’s the reflection of every person I saw
at the meeting last night, the sober voices that created them
also the mirror of years spent in rooms just the same.

I know this is what is seen in me
the bright light shines on me and the prism of time
fans the colors to my new acquaintance.

I thank my Higher Power for letting me be a
a spectral instrument and I am grateful to the fellowship
for shining the light on and through me.