Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 4



The Naked Not the Dead


Because comfort is sometimes no comfort I can shave my hair and walk bare in the naked world. Removing pretense helps in unexpected ways. Foolish action becomes formulaic when you are scared or hurt. I lived through the summers of blood; the winter is not enough to stem the tide or heal the wound. I have no want to raise the dead, but how to save the living? Poverty is the inheritance of so much misguided lethargy and I must shear off the illusion of maturity and let the children speak.







Bury pettiness in an unmarked grave

*
WHINING BRATS

Some days whining brats come at me from all directions
And my hair won’t curl,
Apathy chases me around the house.

I wonder how it has more energy than I do.
My mind twists into a wrinkled mess
I drag my good foot and hop on the bad one.

And even on those days I still rather be me.
I never long to be the innocent victim
Or spiritual leader, the tough guy or the Ph D.

No matter how bad it gets
Or what the struggle is
There is no place sweeter than in my head.

Many are the days I wished not to exist at all
But never to shuck my skin
for the skin of another.
.
Now that I manage breathe right
And to face each day with cheer
I know it was almost worth it
And might be worth it yet.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 5


No Reason

Reason falls through, where it lands is a place of unknown seascape and unrelenting tides. The roar in my ears furthers the disorienting effect of relocation. At first it seems easier to let go of reason but when I descend into madness I scramble for purchase; looking for sanity like a cleft in a cliff. Loss of skin and blood is nothing to compare to the loss of my mind. I believe I could be more easily separated from a limb or two than to lose rein on my brain. Reason falls through; I must follow even though the terrain is arduous and my heart is sometimes faint, for without reason there is no reason and without reason there is no life.




Write songs to the dead, sing them to the living

*

HATCHLING

When the shell gets too tight
It’s time to hatch.
I can’t tell you it’s safe out there
Just that it’s time to go.

The leaving is not easy.
Exodus fulfilled by the use of one small tooth
This experience may or may not prepare you
For the rest of your life.

So much still depends on predestination
And your attitude.
I mean are you a chicken or a hawk?
A peacock or a dove?
Or is there something of which I am unaware.

Did someone sit on your nest
Or cover it with sand?
Are you a turtle, lizard or snake?
See so much is out of your hands
But still your actions are your choice.

[PearlsNLace]

Today, sitting in a meeting I never go to, I realized that sometimes I dont know my own truth until I hear it coming from somebody elses mouth.

Greatful today, for a new chance to grow in unexpected directions.

Pearls

[LeftWriteFemme]

Originally Posted by PearlsNLace

Today, sitting in a meeting I never go to, I realized that sometimes I dont know my own truth until I hear it coming from somebody elses mouth.

Greatful today, for a new chance to grow in unexpected directions.

Pearls

That is wonderful!!!!!! I am so glad to be sober with you!

Hugs,

Sherrie

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 6



Nightcrawlers and Nightingales



I wriggle blind eyed through the dirt; friction, my friend giving me something to push against, resistance aiding my travels. I worm my way through life and believed that was all there was; having never seen the sky. I traveled far and wide once I had taken to the air. Open eyed I push against a thing I cannot see and peer down on the dirt I left behind. I soar rather than struggle and go the distance leaving my mind open to the next frontier.







Say what everyone knows in a way that no one thought of

*

HUMILITY

A great woman walks my street everyday.
She carries a tall walking stick with a loop for her hand.
Each morning I see her low crown of hair and the half smile,
Her friendly wave when I catch her eye.

Each morning when I see her
I see the secret play across her face--humility.
This is the secret she cannot share.
I know she would sing it from the mountain tops if it would help.
But humility is not a secret you can tell.

It’s a secret you have to live with.
As I slowly learn this precious thing I see it shine in others.
Recognition of persons with inborn dignity
And a keen understanding of their personal value lights inside me.

When I see this fine woman walking with purpose
I appreciate myself better and am so very grateful
For those who keep humility alive by living it.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 7



Genius



I am often bonded to a self which thinks I know everything and when in doubt believes I should know even if I don’t. Freeing me of this requires the constant support of friends and neighbors’ assuring me that in a capricious world willingness is a more practical resource; it packs neatly and handles most jobs with aplomb. Staying consistently free from the bondage of self requires truckloads of willingness and the spirit of humility and sometimes even forgiveness. I am freer when I like myself, for the true bondage of self is the hatred of self.



Acknowledge the marks left by the street you came from

*

YES---THAT TOO

When kindness becomes weakness,
When mental agility becomes emotional instability,
It’s time to reassess everything.

I cannot leave things off my inventory
Because my Grandma, society or the preacher says
It’s a good thing to be.

Every blessing can be a curse.
All my characteristics have their dark side.
I have to list the entirety of my cargo
And keep a watchful eye.

I have to moderate my investment
In all my abilities or lose myself.
Warmth is nice but I don’t want Death Valley.

Integrity requires balance
Or depraved indifference will be the outcome.
Weak or strong, right or wrong.
It all goes on the scale.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 8




Helping Hands?


Why would you go to a rattler for a snakebite remedy? It feels so much like the hair of the dog that bit me. The truth is I must, must stay away from the quick answers. I am a slow healer, but I do heal if I allow myself to do so unencumbered by poison or untruth. When I am returning to the vomit of my past it is incumbent upon me to search for the old lies and/or the new ones, either or both will get me drunk; do I even need the help of a prescription pad?






Never cage harbingers

*

SELF-SEEKING IS A DEBIT

Trying to get credit for everything I do
Has run me into debt in my anonymity account
Which draws directly from my humility bank.

I cannot expend my resources seeking acknowledgement
And expect to retain much dignity or class.
How can I build within, while constantly grasping,
For nods and smiles from scenery and landscaping?

I want approval so much that I have lost my center.
In an attempt to top the charts I forgot my song.
My ego writes checks that my soul can’t cover.

I run my potential into the red
Looking to get my name in black and white.
If I keep my name out of lights
I have a chance of building up my dignity.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 9




Barnum, Bailey & Me


When I wake to find a whip and a chair by the side of my bed I know I am in for a circus of a day and the tears of this clown will not change a thing. I ready myself for the tightrope walk and watch out for stray elephants. All the trained poodles in the world can’t make this into a day in the park. Painted ponies prance through their paces; I try to stick to my own act, meanwhile remembering that no matter how difficult these routines may be it still beats a seat in the stands.






Raffle off the surplus grit from your nitty gritty

*

MEGAPHONE

The point of surviving
Or maybe the goal after survival
Is enabling the voices of victims to be heard
Starting with my own.

I allow the surging waves of thought and feelings
To rush the gates and exit
I try to bleed the bad
With and without the use of leaches.

So much is stumbled upon rather than sought after,
Some things hound me, I run down the street
With memory at my heels
I must let the screams out or become them.

Today I talk, tomorrow is for others.
When I pour forth I open the way for the rest
I have become the megaphone
Rather than the cheerleader
It is good to be of use.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 10



Oh the Wells Fargo Wagon



Tying myself to one rail of a set of railroad tracks gets me the same results as tying myself to the other. Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it. Not seeing potential harm does not eliminate the harm. Like a child with my hands pressed firmly over my eyes I yell, “You can’t see me,” and run headlong into disaster. Whether the train comes and makes a mess or not I make my own soup Ducky and must get on track by staying off the rails.




Go relax on the porch of your imagination

*
WILD

When I run wild through the rain
My hair streaming behind me
Water fleeing my face
I see with my heart
The thousand other rains
Pouring from my past.

How I peel from me the soaking luggage
Covering my naked pain
Nothing drives me to the cozy retreat
Of my bed like the humid chill
Of an early fall drizzle.

I slip my trembling skin between the comfort
And the comforter, flex my toes,
Towel my hair, wipe scenes of lost love
From my pale, pale soul.
Leaves rush my gutters, clog my mind.

I see the change in me as I turn heel to heel.
Trees spinning bare in a blank wet world,
I know this ever relived fluid, recycled life.

[RockOn]

Sherry, your writing here hits the nail on the head:

"Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it."

Hope things are good with you.

This past Tuesday and Wednesday were rough at work. Not the actual work but a noisy, very noisy women in cubicle beside me. Yesterday was better. This really gets to me sometimes when I am trying to concentrate but I love my job, specifically the technology I am working in, what I am getting to do ... plus a terrific supervisor. Yesterday it was 11:00 before I knew it ... that is always an indicator to me I am enjoying myself. Regarding the noise on previous days, it was about about sticking the earplugs in deep and accepting life on life's terms. If the earplugs are not enough, I put on my headphones and listen to some Led Zepplin tunes. Two of my women friends at work, who are terrific cooks, have been feeding me all week. They see the situation I am trying to tolerate and what is going on. Becky also made me a cake. Have you ever heard of a "sweet milk cake?" It is a wet cake and oh my gosh, the best cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate every bit of it in two days except the large hunk I gave my buddy, Jerry. He loved it too. Becky and Rosemary always feed people at work as a comfort mechanism. I have figured out it is their way of showing people they care ... it is not just me they cook for. They put the food in the refrigerator with my name on it, then send me an email that morning. I appreciate them so much but I had difficulty buttoning my pants yesterday morning. I need to back off the goodies this weekend - cannot stand too tight clothes.

There was an older guy at the noon meeting on Labor Day (Monday) who had time and relapsed for one day on Sunday. He shared about it when it was his turn. I knew when I sat down one chair over from him at the beginning of the meeting that something was wrong. He was so dumbfounded, so filled with enormous shame and humiliation, said family members had regained all their trust in him and then he let them down when he picked up. Sherry, I felt so bad for him. Sunday was one year since his wife's death. If we chose, we can use any excuse. I know this but still my heart went out to him. He was so emotionally banged up. Cunning, baffling, powerful - it is true!

My sponsor was in New York City for a week. She got home on Wednesday. Her mother came home with her with her to visit. They met there for holiday and to visit Cheryl's brother. I get to meet her mother tomorrow and am pretty excited. Cheryl is having a get together at her house, she mentioned a cook out by the pool so this will be fun. I am chairing the Women's 6:00 Sunday night meetings for the next three weeks. I will be researching a topic before then - time to dig around in our AA literature. Chairing is so good for me because it puts me more in the books.

My new dog, Kevin Daniel, is a wonderful blessing. He and Kelly, my female, love each other. I tell you, she is smiling now all the time. Poor baby needed a companion to keep her company while I am at work. I whisper in her ear "Do you like him, do you like Kevin?" I wish you could see her face when I ask her this. She immediately wags her tail and starts licking my hand. They know each other's names.

Wow, I sure was chatty here. I am aware I get quite verbose a lot of the time. LOL!

Loved the new photos of you and Tommi in the gallery.
Time to shower and get to work.
Happy Friday and hope you have a fantastic weekend.
Brock

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 11



Louet


Consolidating fuzz into yarn makes me a friend to sheep everywhere. Spinning the filaments of truth into cables of life does not impress the mutton in anyway, but sure does my mental health a world of good. Free floating fiber is bad for my lungs and piles lint all around. Giving things a firm twist pulls together what used to be fluff and keeps me warm and dry.





Jones for candor


*
WORKS

I cry the waterworks so necessary to the healing of my heart.
I explode with the fireworks required
For anger to set living boundaries.

I sleep the sleep of angels, as I link to dream works
Allowing mental maintenance to occur,
Slip into my political face, making time for public works.

I return to my abode, call the pie maker and order “the works”.
Have it delivered so I can face the homework
Waiting for me and baring my name.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 12



Hypothetical


Is my inability to understand what creates mystery? If I were brighter, swifter, keener, would life be free of unknown communion? Would comprehension eliminate revelation? Would I lose perceptual apprehension by arming myself with knowledge of forethought? Could I end mysticism through education? Should I even if I could?





Sample other people’s assets

*
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS



Like my new frames? I ask my sponsor
Who wrote you prescription?
Oh the lenses aren’t new just the frames, I reply.

You want to be seen differently,
but you want to see things the same old way?
My question still stands---
Who wrote you the script for those funhouse glasses
you have used all your life?

Did it ever occur to you the distortion is ground into the glass?
Remember some people need you to see things other than what they are.
Unhappy families look great if you can’t see them too clearly.

It’s hard to know what to say to keep the peace--said Grandma.
She never took off her specs to see there was no peace to keep.
So I ask you again --The view of the world you base your choices on
who chose the color you see it through?

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 13


Cadentia



The randomness of love is matched only by the randomness of loss. What slips into view or out of grasp whispers beyond my control. Like cookies baking in a nearby oven I long for the sweetness to be inside; even if it is simply in an olfactory way. The similarity of the pain of what I have and the pain of what is no longer mine haunts me; scares my security, rattles my hope, affects my sleep. For minutes make a life and moments are all it takes to remove the very same. In the end all that I know is that loss does not remove love and love does not remove loss.







Check your drawers for memories
*

SCREAMING LETHARGY

The screaming lethargy of being alive
after many years of wanting something else.
The exhaustion of pulsing, breathing waves,
waves of thinking.

Yet as tired as I am, I am.
Here without a doubt, I stand.
No crawling, for I have not fallen.
No climbing, for I have reached the plain.

I wait for the rain to wash over me.
The truth to run through me, time to pass by me.
Like a free trip to an unwelcome destination
I arrive with randomly packed bags and low expectations.

I am here now.
The train doesn’t seem to be moving on.
I might as well leave the station.
Nothing to do on the platform.

There may be points of interest
or flowers to be smelled.
I step haltingly and fear making any connection
to this unbidden place.

My name is unknown.
I befriend the lamppost, the birds, the street.
I am tired from travel,
Fearful of arrival.

Fury courses through my veins
but the weather is pleasant.
I might take off my coat and stay.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 14



Heartfelt


Boab trees litter my dreams; gossipy like old women in the late afternoon sun, I wonder at the tales they tell though I am far too young to understand. The Australian Kimberly shelters these mysteries in life; they shelter me in the far off wilderness of my mind. Coming to age seems merely a step when in the presence of the ancient beauty of long endured life. Too long drought, too deep rain, are places I can pick my face up from, stand my ground or be on my way. The leaves may fall, but they will return in my dreams and I will return to my life.





Chime in
*

HOME TO HOPE

Shadows of doubt fall across my face on dark days
And I have trouble finding my way home to hope.
Reliance on sunshine fails me come dusk.

Twinkling stars bare their souls to little avail.
I am lost.
Absurdity and obsession plague me for time and attention.

I wander deeper into a dismal wood.
How can I chop my way free?
Dejection dulls my senses, I am blind to solemn assurance.

I must reevaluate the shimmering enthusiasm from the night sky
Skepticism passes like storm clouds.
I may feel the rain for a time.

Necessity reigns on both sides of every street
But still I can crawl into my bed
Morning will come and I will fear less the coming night.

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 15



Warhol Wouldn’t Be


There is no trick to art. If I work to make my pieces fit with the familiar I lose my individuality. If I make what is truly me I fear there is no line in which to stand. I must make the work, find the market, live life and die happy; all this with no map and a world filled with people who tell me what to do, but none who can guarantee the outcome. My unwillingness to fight, to look at and feel the ugliness of life is at the core of my impediment.



Except change then accept change

*

LINEAGE



People stand in the cue and I stare,
Lost in contemplation and compliance
I weigh the conflicts and complications.

Is this the method to clear identification?
I think I am better known for the lines I’ve crossed,
The times I press between warm souls
And force myself to the area beyond.

How can I wait my turn for generational stew
When the fruit trees bear life for those who break free
From ruts and rumbles to bite deeply the flesh of the future?

I can’t stand here though I love so many in this line.
I cannot love the line itself.
I must step through, breathe,
Stretch my legs and mind.

Take leave of grids and locks
Living a lonelier but healthier life
All caused by a change in direction.

[LeftWriteFemme]

Hey Brock!

Sorry it has taken me so long to write back, the days have been flying away from me. I am in the book building process of the new coloring books that Tommi collaborated with me to create. I love hys work, hy is such a fine artist! I am so delighted to have my work next to hys, this is pretty exciting for me!

I hope this week has been better for you at work! It must be hard to say no when women are cooking for you. I grew up in a family where food was love, if someone meant something to you cooking was the way to convey that. I still haven't gotten over it either, when I fly to west to see Tommi, filling hys freezer with individual containers of my cooking is a very important task to me. I know hy says not to worry about it, but I feel like that is a demonstration of my affection.

It is so cool that the dogs know each other's names and that they like each other! What a great pair they must be!

I'm glad you liked what I wrote, that means a whole bunch to me!

I hope the guy whose wife died is doing okay, it is tough on folks when they relapse. I will keep him in my prayers.

You are in my prayers too. I wish you well, Brock. Have a great rest of the week!

Sherrie

Originally Posted by Brock

Sherry, your writing here hits the nail on the head:

"Swapping one chemical fix for another is like changing my socks in a rainstorm, nothing dry will come of it."

Hope things are good with you.

This past Tuesday and Wednesday were rough at work. Not the actual work but a noisy, very noisy women in cubicle beside me. Yesterday was better. This really gets to me sometimes when I am trying to concentrate but I love my job, specifically the technology I am working in, what I am getting to do ... plus a terrific supervisor. Yesterday it was 11:00 before I knew it ... that is always an indicator to me I am enjoying myself. Regarding the noise on previous days, it was about about sticking the earplugs in deep and accepting life on life's terms. If the earplugs are not enough, I put on my headphones and listen to some Led Zepplin tunes. Two of my women friends at work, who are terrific cooks, have been feeding me all week. They see the situation I am trying to tolerate and what is going on. Becky also made me a cake. Have you ever heard of a "sweet milk cake?" It is a wet cake and oh my gosh, the best cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate every bit of it in two days except the large hunk I gave my buddy, Jerry. He loved it too. Becky and Rosemary always feed people at work as a comfort mechanism. I have figured out it is their way of showing people they care ... it is not just me they cook for. They put the food in the refrigerator with my name on it, then send me an email that morning. I appreciate them so much but I had difficulty buttoning my pants yesterday morning. I need to back off the goodies this weekend - cannot stand too tight clothes.

There was an older guy at the noon meeting on Labor Day (Monday) who had time and relapsed for one day on Sunday. He shared about it when it was his turn. I knew when I sat down one chair over from him at the beginning of the meeting that something was wrong. He was so dumbfounded, so filled with enormous shame and humiliation, said family members had regained all their trust in him and then he let them down when he picked up. Sherry, I felt so bad for him. Sunday was one year since his wife's death. If we chose, we can use any excuse. I know this but still my heart went out to him. He was so emotionally banged up. Cunning, baffling, powerful - it is true!

My sponsor was in New York City for a week. She got home on Wednesday. Her mother came home with her with her to visit. They met there for holiday and to visit Cheryl's brother. I get to meet her mother tomorrow and am pretty excited. Cheryl is having a get together at her house, she mentioned a cook out by the pool so this will be fun. I am chairing the Women's 6:00 Sunday night meetings for the next three weeks. I will be researching a topic before then - time to dig around in our AA literature. Chairing is so good for me because it puts me more in the books.

My new dog, Kevin Daniel, is a wonderful blessing. He and Kelly, my female, love each other. I tell you, she is smiling now all the time. Poor baby needed a companion to keep her company while I am at work. I whisper in her ear "Do you like him, do you like Kevin?" I wish you could see her face when I ask her this. She immediately wags her tail and starts licking my hand. They know each other's names.

Wow, I sure was chatty here. I am aware I get quite verbose a lot of the time. LOL!

Loved the new photos of you and Tommi in the gallery.
Time to shower and get to work.
Happy Friday and hope you have a fantastic weekend.
Brock

[Soft*Silver]

I am going to two AA meetings tomorrow! Well, actually, they are coming to me!

One during the day, with my sponsor. She is bringing people over to plant my shrubs and then are staying to hold a meeting for me since I cant get out for another week to ten days.

My AA buddy is coming over late afternoon and bringing some girls from rehab and holding a meeting for me here before they head out to their huge meeting that night.

I need some meetings too. While I talk with people over the phone and on the internet, I need connection....

[LeftWriteFemme]

Originally Posted by softness

I am going to two AA meetings tomorrow! Well, actually, they are coming to me!

One during the day, with my sponsor. She is bringing people over to plant my shrubs and then are staying to hold a meeting for me since I cant get out for another week to ten days.

My AA buddy is coming over late afternoon and bringing some girls from rehab and holding a meeting for me here before they head out to their huge meeting that night.

I need some meetings too. While I talk with people over the phone and on the internet, I need connection....

I hope you have great meetings!!! I agree with you keeping connected is so important to me, too!!!

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 16




Hand Washing


I live a simple life now; I handle life as it is dished up. I no longer need to make use of the dish prison. Living an orderly active life I find it untenable to have my favorite spoon or bowl held hostage until I make enough mess to run the dishwasher through. I don’t live an ‘Eight is Enough’ type existence and need not burden my psyche trying to save my hands a little soap. I save the Cascade for visits to waterfalls, Jet Dry for landing strips.




Smile with all the parts of your face

*

DEATH PRACTICE

Why do you practice death like it were a skill?
Do you fear you lack ability, or because it’s your goal
Have you made it your hobby?
Beleaguered by the questions of my sponsor
I search quickly for some believable response.

I confused calm with death
And thought I was practicing the former.
Death came for a holiday
How could I refuse it.
It’s a test drive, if I like it I can keep it.

My sponsor doesn’t think I’m funny.
Check your motives, wants and desires,
Make sure death is what you really want,
That it’s not just your fallback position
Because you fear life.

Don’t get me wrong
I hope death is a good thing
But why try to chew tomorrows food
When your plate is full of today?

[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.