Showing posts with label Cleopatra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cleopatra. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

What is "Offender" #2

February 4


What is “Offender” Number 2?

I’m not looking for trouble, really I’m not, it’s just that thanks to this program I’m no longer plagued by resentment, but I doubt that is the only stumbling block there is.  Possibly the remaining list is as divergent as the alcoholics who make the lists.  Though I am guessing we have more in common than that one thing.  I stare at the various and sundry bric-a-brac measuring potential harm and formidability, so many candidates with razor edges.  I take my combat pose as I lift the pen, wondering if giving things status also gives them power.  I take comfort that acknowledgement is empowering for me.  Tell me the weights you lift to strengthen your “Spiritual Muscle” the things that crowd behind resentment vying for their turn as perpetrator of downfall and misery.




Poetry in motion is like a marching band with words



*

THE FORGOTTEN

I am not Cleopatra.
I am not in denial.
I forgot.
"Sure" says my sponsor
"I've seen the headdress."

That's not fair
I've heard women say they forget the pain of child birth.
"They're kidding, you can't just forget pain,
It's there waiting in the wings,
Looking for its fifteen minutes of fame."

"You will be the worse for it" she say with her smug way.
What if I can't drag it forward?
"Honey, Baby, Sweetie, you need to let those things come up,
Before they drag you back to a drink
Or whatever your new addiction of choice is."

"Just open your mind,
You might be surprised what is waiting to see the light of day."
What if it kills me?
"Darling, you're not that lucky,
You don't get to escape through death either."

"Lean into this and you will get through it faster
Hold onto the program and you will get through easier,
Fight it and it will tear you up."
Always the optimist my sponsor.

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

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

The Forgotten

February 5



THE FORGOTTEN


"I am not Cleopatra; I am not in denial.  I forgot."
“Sure,” says my sponsor, “I’ve seen the headdress.”
"That’s not fair!  I’ve heard women say they forget the pain of childbirth."
“They’re kidding.  You can’t just forget pain.  It’s there waiting in the wings, looking for its fifteen minutes of fame.”
"And what if I don’t give pain its fifteen minutes?"
“You will be the worse for it,” she says with her smug way.
"What if I can’t drag it forward?"
“Honey, Baby, Sweetie, you need to let those things come up before they drag you back to a drink or whatever your new addiction of choice is.  Just open your mind.  You might be surprised what is waiting to see the light of day.”
"What if it kills me?"
“Darling you’re not that lucky.  You don’t get to escape through death, either.  Lean into this and you will get through it faster.  Hold on to the program and you will get through it easier.  Fight it and it will tear you up.”
Always the optimist, my sponsor.




Dispel assumptions, inhale willingness.
*



What is “offender” number 2?

I’m not looking for trouble, really I’m not,
it’s just that thanks to this program
I’m no longer plagued by resentment,
but I doubt that is the only stumbling block there is.

Possibly the remaining list is as divergent
as the alcoholics who make the lists.
Though I am guessing we have more in common
than that one thing.

I stare at the various and sundry bric-a-brac
measuring potential harm and formidability,
so many candidates with razor edges.

I take my combat pose as I lift the pen,
wondering if giving things status also gives them power.
I take comfort that acknowledgement is empowering for me.

Tell me the weights you lift
to strengthen your “Spiritual Muscle”
the things that crowd behind resentment
vying for their turn as perpetrator of downfall and misery.



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

Monday, February 4, 2013

What is "Offender" Number 2?


February 4


What is “Offender” Number 2?

I’m not looking for trouble, really I’m not, it’s just that thanks to this program I’m no longer plagued by resentment, but I doubt that is the only stumbling block there is.  Possibly the remaining list is as divergent as the alcoholics who make the lists.  Though I am guessing we have more in common than that one thing.  I stare at the various and sundry bric-a-brac measuring potential harm and formidability, so many candidates with razor edges.  I take my combat pose as I lift the pen, wondering if giving things status also gives them power.  I take comfort that acknowledgement is empowering for me.  Tell me the weights you lift to strengthen your “Spiritual Muscle” the things that crowd behind resentment vying for their turn as perpetrator of downfall and misery.




Poetry in motion is like a marching band with words



*

THE FORGOTTEN

I am not Cleopatra.
I am not in denial.
I forgot.
"Sure" says my sponsor
"I've seen the headdress."

That's not fair
I've heard women say they forget the pain of child birth.
"They're kidding, you can't just forget pain,
It's there waiting in the wings,
Looking for its fifteen minutes of fame."

"You will be the worse for it" she say with her smug way.
What if I can't drag it forward?
"Honey, Baby, Sweetie, you need to let those things come up,
Before they drag you back to a drink
Or whatever your new addiction of choice is."

"Just open your mind,
You might be surprised what is waiting to see the light of day."
What if it kills me?
"Darling, you're not that lucky,
You don't get to escape through death either."

"Lean into this and you will get through it faster
Hold onto the program and you will get through easier,
Fight it and it will tear you up."
Always the optimist my sponsor.


Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Forgotten

February 5

THE FORGOTTEN

"I am not Cleopatra; I am not in denial. I forgot."

“Sure,” says my sponsor, “I’ve seen the headdress.”

"That’s not fair! I’ve heard women say they forget the pain of childbirth."

“They’re kidding. You can’t just forget pain. It’s there waiting in the wings, looking for its fifteen minutes of fame.”

"And what if I don’t give pain its fifteen minutes?"

“You will be the worse for it,” she says with her smug way.

"What if I can’t drag it forward?"

“Honey, Baby, Sweetie, you need to let those things come up before they drag you back to a drink or whatever your new addiction of choice is. Just open your mind. You might be surprised what is waiting to see the light of day.”

"What if it kills me?"

“Darling you’re not that lucky. You don’t get to escape through death, either. Lean into this and you will get through it faster. Hold on to the program and you will get through it easier. Fight it and it will tear you up.”

Always the optimist, my sponsor.

Dispel assumptions, inhale willingness.

*

What is “offender” number 2?

I’m not looking for trouble, really I’m not,

it’s just that thanks to this program

I’m no longer plagued by resentment,

but I doubt that is the only stumbling block there is.

Possibly the remaining list is as divergent

as the alcoholics who make the lists.

Though I am guessing we have more in common

than that one thing.

I stare at the various and sundry bric-a-brac

measuring potential harm and formidability,

so many candidates with razor edges.

I take my combat pose as I lift the pen,

wondering if giving things status also gives them power.

I take comfort that acknowledgement is empowering for me.

Tell me the weights you lift

to strengthen your “Spiritual Muscle”

the things that crowd behind resentment

vying for their turn as perpetrator of downfall and misery.