Simplicity Itself

January 27

Simplicity Itself


My life runs at a Gilbert and Sullivan pace, with about as much sense and comic relief.  You say ‘keep it simple’ and my disease says ‘why ruin a good play?’  The truth is this is not play at all but a work that consumes my life from me and doesn’t thank me for my time. Simplicity for me requires respect, a gift I selectively give myself; a gift that I often use only as a shield during battle.  My past method of increased self-respect is life in a war zone.  This is no solution.  Release of grief, this is the onerous path I avoid taking.  Purging the wrong thinking and action of others from my blood, my eyes, my skin, allows me to lift my chin and square my soul to plumb and level living, don self-respect as a birth right and set a calendar fit for plausible life, a simple life.

If you are not a hero in your own home you are not a hero






I have sought You
High and Low
But like the rain
You have always found me.

I like a cold, wet cat on a winters day
Peer into warm lit windows
You will be home.

I seek to keep moving
You find me for some unknown reason.
I have given up
Naming You.

I trust You know who you are

 In spite of the fact I do not.
You are places I don’t know
Doing things I think better of.

Citing the list of errands I daily make for You,
Not to beleaguer You
But the unfinished list of history
Trails out of my pocket.

I worry I may possess
Your only copy
Of this Injustice List.

There have been days of peace
Days I don’t think too much.
Days I turn away from
My history lessons and future projections.

My ultimate problem is with the equal sign
I run the numbers and it figures inequity.
I check my calculations and shake
The calculator of my mind.

Deeply, I fear
You’re a one god
And do not comprehend
The implications of zero.

If you multiply with only things above naught
You may be unaware of nothingness.
The empty things I feel
When I can’t seem to find you.

Self-possessed – insensitive of the cipher
Your dimensions stay positive.
Bring me into Your realm or join me in the void.

I seek You
But You have found me.



About Sherrie Theriault

Sherrie Theriault, writer and outsider artist lives in northwest New Jersey where she writes villain-free fiction for children and young adults, creates coloring books for all ages, writes daily inspiration books for the recovery community and has other works of collected poetry; also adult fiction. Books available on include the following: Cala Mae The Deep Dark Day In The Congenial Chronicles The Holland’s Adventure Fill Me In Fill Me In, Too Filled In Sober on the Way to Sane More Sober on the Way to Sane Lines from My Life More Lines from My Life On-Liners to Live By My Sponsor Said… Elissa: Queen of Carthage Was Love Lost Order of Protection The Story Precedes the Question Can You See? What the Birdies Told Me about You What the Birdies Told Me about You Coloring book The Enchanting Dog Sherrie’s books are available at Blue Stockings, Manhattan, NY, The Clinton Book Shoppe, Clinton, New Jersey, Giovanni’s Room, Philadelphia, PA, Easy Does It in Long Beach, CA and The Latest Thing in Costa Mesa, Ca. You can find Sherrie’s art work at Hang-Ups Gallery in Allentown, PA or online at: Please feel free to contact her there if you have any questions.
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One Response to Simplicity Itself

  1. Pingback: The Fine Art of Letting Go « Recovery Along Route 66

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