Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 4


Bride in a Bentley


Who determines your worth, the one who sets your ransom or the one who pays it? Will you recognize yourself once you have been bought and paid for? Will your life exist upon your return? How many times has the road and its inhabitance taken me far from what I’ve known and extorted an exorbitant remuneration for restoration? Redeemed is what they call it when the price is met, yet this might not be the feeling it evokes. Deliverance is never 100% and reclamation is not always possible, so keep your mind free, but know your own worth.






Count the fingers on one hand

*




TIMELY

Spent a minute to rub the sleep
Gently from your eyes.
Spend an hour smoothing lotion
From one end to the other.

Spend a week researching your goals
Dreams and hopes.
Spend a month routing energy
To a viable flow.

Spend a life living it
Your life is worth all the time you have
Take it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 5

MISS DIRECTED



I called and rambled at my sponsor. After a significant time had passed, she stopped me and asked with a tone in her voice, “and why are you calling me?”
Startled, I replied, “for your advice!”
“Are you sure that’s why you called? Because I can give you my advice, but I have given advice to you before and received only a severe case of the ‘Yeah, Buts’ in return.”
I was about to say ‘yeah, but you don’t understand’ when she cleared her throat to quiet me and continued what she was saying. “Seems to me you really want more than a sober ear, you want magic. You want me to take your crazy, dramatic thinking, put it in a hat and pull it out formed, as all your dreams, and then you want credit for making it happen. But, Kitten, I have news for you, I’m not Mr. Roark and this is not Fantasy Island. This is sobriety and you can’t just have your way.”
This is when I realized I was on a dry drunk. I don’t know what the first signs are, but I do know when your sponsor asks, “and you’re calling me, why?” the jig is up.


Time your stubbornness

*


MAIL FRAUD

The open envelope belies the tampering I suspect.
Too bad my critics are snooping not my supporters.
When they are finished tearing open my mail
They tear me apart as well.

Shredded, I feel unable to handle further correspondence
I shut down communications
There is no channel for benefactors to travel.
My champions are at a loss
To defend me from my opponents
The struggle flounders.

Misunderstanding the meaning of messages
I have been mocked and enslaved.
I would love to vanquish my foes
But you see I am opening my own mail.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 6



Natural Law


The boat captain can’t change the river; navigate it possibly, but rule it never. Birds don’t control the wind, only capitalize on it. I can’t reign my sobriety; I just get to take the ride. My choices greatly affect the quality of this journey but not the nature of recovery itself. I am powerless over gravity but am thrilled at my ability to use it to my advantage.









Desperate imitation is just that

*

MEMORIAL DAY

Veteran of the addiction wars
I have scars but few metals.
I don’t need a purple heart
Mine is black and blue.
I don’t keep trophies either
No empty bottles or old syringes.

Hostages I have released them too.
I found often they held me
From what my life could be.
I wear my defects and wave my flag.

I am slowly learning to live in peacetime.
The big battles have been won.
It is up to me to stop replaying
The scenes of engagement.

Armistice is a beautiful thing
Too bad there is no better way to get it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 7



Let the Groundhog Sing It




Mistakes and poor choices save me from attempting to climb out onto moral high ground. Moral ambiguity keeps me protected from the illusion of relentless righteousness. Lopsided living is a fate I am spared due to my flawed execution of perfection; all in a days work for a functional human. Left by the wayside is the fantasy that I am all right.




Be a timekeeper and a dream-maker


*

NUZZLES OFFERING

Like a vegan kitten who wrestles
Long tailed leaves and twigs
Subduing them and dragging these prizes
To the feet of human parents
I fight paper tigers and bring the tatters
As tributes to my Higher Power.

These bloodless battles are pure practice
Future wars may not be as clean.
I cannot enlist my God
To fight these skirmishes.
I would never believe in one that could.

I accept Deus as creator and cheerleader
But champion-----No
Foliage and foes are mine to fight.
The spoils I bring back
For pats on the head and bragging.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 8



Uggs



This is a big hurdle until it becomes a little step. I will struggle with it as long as it takes for me to see it as something I can conquer a bit at a time, then, often as if by magic, it will melt into curbside snow and I can slosh through it in my boots. I am vanquishing obstacles, which seemed insurmountable mere months ago. I am not so much stronger than I was, but I have stopped feeding the weakness in my mind and this has made all the difference.








Accelerate your willingness

*


FLORAL TROPHIES

Captured pet plants grow in my window
Why these specimens are given such regal care
I suspect but can’t explain.

Delicate shoots pile out of sturdy stalks
Roots force the confines of my decorative pots
How many neighborly blooming faces
Stare into my kitchen greeting me mornings

I am amazed what good company
My leafy friends can be when I am loving myself.
Advantageous to my mental health
I breathe their exhaust and they breathe mine.

Symbiotic we live
I grow and flower
Grateful these plants keep me.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 9



Thief in the Night


The moon ran off the night you left. Instead of west it headed south with you, but I doubt it will stay. You are learning to play a new part, another ill-suited role which I don’t believe you will carry off with much aplomb, though you may have found yourself a kinder critic or a more likened mind. Bad actors have no leg to stand on for critique. What you have taken I can’t expect to return, but what I have gained I will never give up. I don’t think you ever intended me any harm, but protection is something you never provided; something which I was sorely in need of. I was fortunate to return to the house of my father for that is the shelter in which I can breathe.





Ferocity is a gift, but not a toy



*


JELLYFISH AND PEANUT BUTTER CARDS

Jellyfish and peanut butter cards
Make for busy days and cheerful nights
Sunlit at the beach and lantern light
Filled with double-decker solitaire.

Camping as a way of life suits some
As they run from their lives
For the more balanced, camp is a temporary retreat
To the overly invested, camping is an aberration
A threat to the foundation of civilization as we know it.

Though I do dread the feeling of coming back
To the life I love and feeling like a stranger
Temporary disengagement estranges me
From the place, the things, the dog.

I need time away,
Variety of experience,
Expanded horizons
I need my entrenched home life.

I need it all and must accept the clock
Never stops running anyplace on the planet
Even if I am enjoying a good game
With sticky camp cards, regaling tales of man-of-war.

[LeftWriteFemme]

November 10


Come What May



Inevitable things are very much like inedible things; you can’t quite swallow them yet they are hard to throw up. It can’t seem to get here quick enough to comfort my fear nor will it pass with any speed once it has arrived. I am like a boa with a hedgehog as my lunch, the shredding is rightfully dreaded and in no way preventable. Not everything that wings my way is anxiety driven, but I have to admit that some things are. I cannot spend my days wishing the storm clouds away so I will put on my slicker and hunker down for the drenching.








The alleys in your mind are for passage not permanence

*




PRIDE GOETHE BEFORE A FALL

In truth, pride goes wherever it wants, it’s pride.
Pride wanders alone, for no one enjoys its company.
Pride travels far but gets nowhere.
Pride rises above reality and seeps beneath the surface.

When pride wears out, love and honesty poke holes in it.
Until it is grounded and transforms to humility
Pride’s past is remembered with flush and embarrassment.
Recounting yesterday is pride’s unenviable task.
Keeping it from recreation is mine.