Hatchling

September 17

 

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 dove?  Or is there something of which I am unaware?  Did someone sit on your nest or was it covered in sand?  Are you turtle, lizard or snake?  See, so much is out of your hands, but still your actions are your choice.

 

 

Touch your books and pet them.

 

*

 

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.

 

 

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, hatching, Hope, Humor, Ovoid, Poetry, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rooftop Coffee

September 16

 

ROOFTOP COFFEE

 

 

 

Who is more powerless: the person driving down the road with his cup of coffee on the roof of the car, or the one who sees it happen?  Lost in mental chaos, lost to the small things, I set the cup and forget, or content and serene, I am examining details and notice the oddness.  When my mind wanders I am helpless in the whirlpool and suction.  When I am grounded I am struck by the separate sealedness of the carnival around me.  Potential rides on the top; will it fall forward or back?  Will there be a sticky haze on the front windshield or the rear?  Or I could remember at the stoplight and spare myself everything but the embarrassment.  As the observer I try to be helpful, I point and jump and shout, calling the predicament to the attention of others in an attempt to increase my chances of success.  We all stand as the coffee speeds away to unknown disaster.

 

 

Wear your boldness like a mane.

*

 

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.

 

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Poetry, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Whining Brats

Sept 15

 

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 the spiritual leader, the tough guy or the PhD.  No matter how bad it gets or what the struggle is, there is no place sweeter than in my head.  Many are the days when I wished not to exist, not at all, but never to shuck my skin for the skin of another.  Now that I manage, breathe right and face each day with cheer I know it was almost worth it and might be worth it yet.

 

 

Write your name on a piece of paper and slip it into your pocket.

*

 

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.

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Poetry, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Killer Squirrels and other sober drama

September 14

 

KILLER SQUIRRELS AND OTHER SOBER DRAMA

 

 

I can tell you stories to make your hair curl: death-defying fifth steps, speaking commitments with microphoned podiums, sponsees with killer squirrels trapped in the house.  Courage and sheer determination are needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence, and yet with sober mind and willing heart these travails are surmounted and we live on.  Tears turn to laughter with rescue and remedy.  How strong we feel as the cape is passed, when the one-time panic prone sponsee becomes the model of calm and stable sponsor.  Hoards of relatives at holidays and interactions with bankers, police officers and all manner of people in shiny shoes are handled with grace and boundaries.  Porch loving skunks, children becoming teenagers are faced with humor and wit.  Things, which in years gone by would have sent us screaming to the phone, are now casual asides during after-meeting discussion.  Life does keep on spinning but we learn how to stand still.

 

 

Spend a day on a lily pad.

 

*

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in Hope, Alcoholics Anonymous, Wisdom, 12 step recovery, Humor, Affirmation, Poetry, Sponsorship | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Recognizable Nonexistence

September 13

 

RECOGNIZABLE NONEXISTENCE

 

 

 

You will never take time to tell the truth.  You will always take time to tell a joke.  As you run from your life I see the familiar vapor trails of an unlived life.  When I flee my life through caretaking I leave the same mist of unfulfilled desire behind me.  I look at your potential and the damage that you do by not being here.  I turn the magnifying glass on me and search for the same trends.  I feel abandoned by you, the you, you never were but always should have been.  I pray for the key, which will get me on the other side of the door you never opened.  I hope to live life as it is rather than the comedy it can never be.

 

 

Cross the rivers in your mind.

 

*

 

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.

 

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Poetry, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Why not home?

September 12

 

WHY NOT HOME?

 

 

 

Power is not production and production is not art.  I have to keep pulling the car over to the side of the road so I don’t miss the train of words sent to me from out of the dark blue life I am on the edge of living.  But I still want to go home.  I will never give up these roadside excursions into the river of thought, though I do wonder why the cable shoved into my house never gets this channel?  Why is the connection so strong on the bus not the bed?  The minefields of thought explosions seem seeded anywhere as long as it’s at least five miles away.  Power is not production and production is not art.  I let it pour through me; it’s not mine to sort.

 

 

Learn to read God’s handwriting.

 

*

 

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?

 

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Yes, that too

September 11

 

YES, THAT TOO

 

 

 

When kindness becomes a weakness, when mental agility becomes emotional instability, it’s time to reassess everything.  I cannot leave any thing off my inventory because my grandma, or 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 I could lose myself.  Warmth is nice but I don’t want Death Valley.  Integrity requires balance or depraved indifference will be the outcome.  Weak and strong, right and wrong, it all goes on the scale.

 

 

Be generous with yourself, then others.

 

*

 

 

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.

 

 

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Posted in 12 step recovery, Affirmation, Alcoholics Anonymous, Hope, Humor, Inventory, Poetry, spinning, Sponsorship, Wisdom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment