Resistance

March 8

Résistance

Resisting tough love is approaching long run action with short run thinking.  I hate to set the toddling babe down lest he fall, but in the end if I do not put him down he and I will both be the worse for it.  Whether I see a forest or I see trees depends so very much on my perspective, also on my willingness to delay the prevention of minor scrapes to eliminate the need for permanent scaring.    The theme is greater personal responsibility and less irrational fear. Guarding tomorrow’s possibilities by not hamstringing them today through the resistance of tough love saves lives, it saves mine.

Raise the roof on your thinking

*

PICTURES & FRAMES

I paint my way into the corners of the frames.
Each picture I fill diligently,
Color, texture, all the tricks I use.
I work hard to get the desired effect.
I hold nothing back, I put heart and hopes forward.
I load my brush with pigment,
I propel my tongue out of my mouth,
I use it for balance like a kangaroo uses it's tail.
Stroke after stroke I layer the image
My depiction is fresh to me,
I bring the green, the red, the blue,
All of them flow from me.
The canvas fills, my soul soars through the tinctures
Then the disappointment begins,
The complaints, the lamentations,
The perspective is off.
I can't seem to contain this scene
Within the confines of this gilded prison.
I readjust, I tilt my head
I paint from the bottom up, then the top town, No---No.
I must pick up a new canvas and frame.
The oak, burnished and honeyed brown.
I cast to the side the gilt and sculptured casing.
I lay it along the wall with the others.
The many discards of my life
As yet the obvious has escaped me.
The tint, the hue, the angle
Size may diverge but that is all.
I have recreated the same scene
In all the frames,
In all my attempts,
I have painted only one picture.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Stepping Up

March 2

Stepping up

I look along the list of names, look upon the sea of faces.  Are there any whose eyes I avoid?  I gaze across the landscape are there any craters, any pock marks, any divots.  I tick through my actions those I’ve recently taken checking for stumbles, glitches, snafus.  These combined facts and figures create a portrait of my day; I appraise the eyes, the hair, the teeth.  If I can smile at what I see all is well if not I begin the repair. 

Plan for your contentment at least as much as you plan your escape

*

SWEAT

I turn the desk lamp into the eyes of God.
I put question after question
To the construct of my childhood concept.

Would you please explain?
Or exactly why did You do this,
That, or the other thing?

Are You now or have You ever been a member of?
I put the pressure on.
The beads of perspiration join and then trickle.

I have God in the box, I will not relent.
I don't understand You, I say disappointedly
As if speaking to a troubling adolescent.

You have so much potential, if only You would apply Yourself
The icon shakes It's head slowly and deliberately,
I shake my head too.

So much time has passed
And I am no closer to embrace.
You don't understand Me, says God to me.

Dawn breaks, I uncuff this mythic creature.
You are not the One I am looking for,
You are free to go

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Exceptance

February 25

Exceptance

“I want G-d’s will for me,” I sigh to my sponsor.

“Except for this and except for that,” is her trig response.  She knows me, knows I have exceptance. “You have a list of exclusions, a list that dams up the works.”

“Well, trust is hard,” I splutter.

“Trust is not the issue here,” says she. “You don’t feel acceptable and exceptance is what follows.”

“Whatever could you mean?” my broken bluster leaving only this plaintive whine.

“You believe you’re not good enough for G-d or anyone and cross everything off the list in an attempt to duck blame or shame or some other nasty thing.  You are good enough kiddo, get that and everything else is good enough, too.  At least good enough for now and now is all we have. Accept that.”

Include water in your life

*

TOP

The chipped paint of the red stripe
Gives the illusion of fading to rose as it spins
The edge, painted thalo green, in it's intensity
Reflects the windows of the room.

The bead, purple and gleaming
Affixed to the stem holds the cuff
With it's two opposed openings
The cord recoiled inside.

Underneath, protected from easy observation
Resides the point, lathed and faultless
The turning weight is carried and balanced
Perfectly on this nib.

The hum, spiraling and melodic
Comes from the table as well as the top
The aptness of form and function
Grace and harmony

In spite of it all
The only thing
Which truly matters
Is who pulls the string.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Ace

February 22

Ace

Like an ace in my pocket step one is the beginning and end of my step work.  This step carries the high and low count; its rise is so near to the ground I didn’t have to lift my chin to clear it as I crawled my way in here, its appeal so exalted that it is all I hear when I finish the twelfth and am on my way back around.  The high and low of any hand plus the card I keep up my sleeve for emergencies.  The greatest blessing is I don’t need four of a kind, not even a pair; as long as I have step one I am guaranteed a full house, full heart, full life and between you and me that’s just how I like it.

Lick your lips then smile

*

SHAME

I push shame around my plate like a chunk of spoiled meat.
The toxins leaching to every interface and cavity
With an inverse half-life, the lethal substance grows
Reinforcing and sending runners and tendrils
To worlds known and those yet undiscovered.
I wage my war on this shapehifting plaque.
Thrust and parry, I step back from the unsurmountable walls
And set my sights on tearing down the bunkers
In my personal city.
Like lead plumbing
The danger eludes the observation of my fellow citizens
I am labeled a lunatic
And no attention is paid to my evaluation of water quality.
I search for similarly crazed friends
Variants within a theme.
I depend on the poisoned sanity of my wounded compatriots.
We shovel the plate loads of spoiled meat and detritus.
The foreshortened mountain of shame
Allows tiny strands of light to glimmer across the surface
But the shamed devotees turn their heads.
We, the few, face the glowering mass.
I worry like a petulant child.
What if we cannot prevail?
Is shame stronger then recovery?
Have we traveled this far to miss the glaciers edge?
As it slides away from us
I console myself with the sure knowledge that,
This life of sobriety is better than any other offering
Healing the world, What a lovely thought.
Living free from shame today, what a necessity.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Katie's Wish

February 20

Katie’s Wish

Does G-d arrange for my parking spot, foil the Colts opponents, release the stains from my dry-cleaning?   Can I ask for the petty and pedantic? All One G-d Faith, reads the side of the soap bottle, but really is there only one?  Like Santa?  The Tooth Fairy?  OZ?  Is my life better or worse for the whimsy?  How would I know?  Why would I care? As long as I live with what I get most times, it truly is okay to ask for what I want sometimes, I mean hell, the Superbowl is only once a year.  I’m allowed to be unreasonable and happy. 

Open your mind more often than seems necessary

*

FOREVER IS NOT AS LONG AS IT USED TO BE

What time gives in permanence it takes in fluctuation
The relationships I stand on to reach with tippy toed grasp
The light of heaven
Flutter by like flounder disturbed from their sandy bed.

My mind probes the past looking for the shroud lines
To hold up the sail of hope.
Togetherness the banner of life,
Bonds to strength, protection, from outside and within.

I yearn for a life of love, unbending and calm
I am met with a tug of war
Which ends in the mud.
Days stretch into years but years are no protection from terminus.

Forever rings in my head.
Promises I have made to myself
Promises I have made to others
Promises made to me are nothing in the face of the promise of tomorrow.

Time flows like air over a row of seedlings, fresh and challenging
Sustaining life and carrying away familiarity.
Forever is not as long as it used to be.
I can live with that, have to live with that.

I shake my fist at the sky
But it won't make love last.
It will not keep my heart from loving again.
Sails which have filled before will fill again.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

One

February 14

ONE

One skin

One mind

One spirit

One day

If I live in more than my own skin, I am a body snatcher and ghoul.  If I live in a duality of thought I am ejected, ostensively out of my mind.  If I redouble my spirit the increase takes a dark cold turn and I am lost.  If I try to live two days at a time the sand shifts in the glass and I am worse off in that hour than Dorothy.

This skin is all I can be in, as many times as I walk in someone else’s shoes it’s the skin I’m in.  This mind is my only bequest, treasure enough to earn my keep. Free as this spirit is it is still tied at the heel and like my shadow it remains.  And today is the only day where the magic works, witches melt and clicking my heels gets my attention even if it doesn’t always take me home.

Create competition-free zones in your life

*

COMING TO THE TABLE

For many years, decades even,
I stacked the table against myself and others.
I piles the sacred next to the trifles.
I deposited item after item and built towers to confusion.
After years of sobriety I sorted the piles in earnest.

I made a place for myself at the table.
It's amazing what I can accomplish with a seat and a surface.
Over months, tediously separating, the needed from the useless,
I made a place for others at the table.

There is a whole world of life I missed
While trying to keep myself safe from unrealistic expectations.
Expectations of who I am and what I can do,
What I should do and who I should do it for.

Having strong boundaries and a clean table is like a homecoming.
I am coming home to me.
The good games and happy meals had at this table
Are unexpected and surely welcome.

The wall I built held good times at bay.
Because I could not keep the flood of trash
From spilling in from every direction
I had to learn to hold my head up before I could look around.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Two Powers

February 6

Two Powers

The river and the bridge; one force swift and roiling the other stolid and stoic, the first carries me away and the other carries me over.  For the love of liquid, current and life I have slipped in to the water and washed; my life abandoned.  For love of upright contact, terra bound movement I cross the bridge. Will I be deposited in the Ocean or wend to the City and back?  Where is the greater power in Surrender or Choice?

Ignorance and greed are the same thing aren’t they?

*

THE SEAMLESS DOOR

Tongue and groove fit tight.
The pickled boards belie the passage.
Hinges buried deep
Secreted inside the place with no words.

The door remains shut, hidden.
The air, candy sweet.
The space, filled with the unbroken stream
Of surreal childhood.

What can I tell you of this living snapshot?
Nothing but haltings
Stops and shutters
Of a life encapsulated.

Proudly, I walk from this train wreck
Only to find the tether stitched
To my heart,
My soul, my mind.

Flashing through the room,
I weary and wonder.
I have often found myself outside this confusing destination
But never have I seen the door.

Always, I believe this time I am free of it.
When I find myself again within this realm
I know it is something
I cannot be parted from.

Then what of the door?
The undetected portal
Was spied by me one day
While it swung in the breeze.

I saw the simple barn
And the open loft door.
I never thought my incubus to be housed
In so plain a construction.

There the turmoil of my forward motion
Stored in the attic of the pony shed.
So may tragic contrivances
Are stored in such candid spots

Accessibility is the beginning of approach.
I take the stairs.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Principles......

January 31

Principles before Personalities............and gratitude!

As with everything I have to be careful of how I infer meaning.  You say ‘Principles before Personalities’ and I hear, Their principles and Their personalities, immediately I’m on a tear.  How different if I think of ‘my’ principles and ‘my’ personality.  When I face it this way it is reflexive; I embrace my principles and my personality falls into step.  I am safe and sane therefore gratitude follows just as the topic suggests.  Good orderly direction is elegant when I don’t reverse direction.  There is an obvious way to pet the cat when I accept that we get along fine, when I don’t………well, need I say more?

Books open minds, music opens hearts

*

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

I'm sure it will come soon
A time I can be carefree, innocent.
Worn and weary, I slog through the painful
Over awareness of what was considered my childhood.
What can I do but hope things will get simpler as I age.

My sobriety takes years from my face.
Lines slip from me and I feel the weight lift from my shoulders.
My tender branches twisted with the constant force of wind
Bud and flower in the shelter of recovery
Holding them in their own embrace.

Colors seep to the windows of my mind
Forming pictures and carrying me to a new world.
Limpid pools, a place I dive, as I look to the mirror.
Serenity a rebounding of life fills me
And I am the gentle girl I missed so long.

Longing for my loveliness, I cry at the sight of my baby one.
I have not yet taken my place on the swing
But I have been down to the edge of the playground
And run barefoot in the sand.
I will be who I was to be, it's late but it's better.

I know well enough
To enjoy it as it comes
Treasure it for every sweetness.
I will come into my youth

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Sponsorship

January 28

Sponsorship

Right now, as I think of sponsorship, I think of all the things I have done wrong.  Times when I was not understanding enough and times when I was too understanding and enabling.  Sponsors I chose for ulterior motives and the ones I didn't challenge when they wandered away.  I search my mind for the ingredients that were in the mix when things went well and the dominant component was willingness, mine and theirs.  Whether I was sponsor or sponsee, willingness overrode ability, determination and love.  We had to come to the table willing, this was never something we were able to cook up or construct.  Nor is it something I can always hold onto, sometimes willingness evaporates or slips away like sand in a clenched fist.  The permanence and impermanence of sponsorship awes and frightens me.  Like a guidewire twisted from many strands none of which reaches from end to end I worry about the unraveling but depend on the strength.

Expectations are incubating resentments

*

THREE TOYS FLOATING

I bat the ducks across the surface of my bath.
Soaking is supposed to calm me,
I'm waiting.       
I assure you, my impatience is no help to this process.

These yellow, tub-bound misfits, grinning at me
Don't fill me with the joy of living either.
I have blown bubbles until I'm blue
I smell like a French elevator from the bath oil.

My hair is stiff with conditioner
My face packed with mud.
"Do the right thing." Said my sponsor
She is such a pain.

Here I am, bubble bath to my arm pits
And not a hint of peace
Her question rings,
"What do you want?"

But isn't it obvious, if I knew that
What would I be doing
Wrinkling in this swilling vat?
I wouldn't.

I would be out doing my thing.
Whatever, that thing is.
How I'm going to figure myself out I don't know
And, She, is no help (you know who She is, She is the sponsor lady)

So what do I want?
World peace, a clue, maybe just a hint
But I know part of it
I know more than I admit.

I want Sobriety and Happiness,
Dignity and Respect
Enough time to do these things
And Love.

"Well" says she, those things are easy
Work the steps, then the traditions,
Practice them, do service
And take the advice you give your own sponsees"

I stick out my tongue in her general direction.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Lathhouse

January 22

Lathhouse

I want to face the sun.  I want to stand and the wind to blow.  I want the rain uninterrupted on my head.  I want to remain upright and unburnt, to prevail amidst it all.  Tender stalks and verdant leaves frustrate my anti-social streak.  I want to bear the worst without cover or assistance but here I am in the slanted shade of this dynasty.  As I grow so does the awareness that even when I am strong enough to leave this sheltered abode I will be relocated to a row where I am never alone.

Dream of a way to paddle a round boat.

*

THE PRIVILEGE OF SUN RISE

I awake happily at 5:30.
I will again see the show beyond compare
In stark contrast to the mornings
I filled with moping or sober angst,
Shades of the same dark color.
I shuck my covers
Bathing and dressing with purpose
And propel myself forward.
I hate to miss the first act.
Dawn
The tint of clouds dusky and sweet
I'm on my route
I start my open eyed prayer.
For all those living at the hands of an addict
Be with them---Please
For the addicts
Help us all to fail----Fast
I scan the horizon
Checking all the views
I reflect on the striking change,
Earth bound green and gold
Sky held pink, orange and blue.
The silhouettes of trees exquisitely lit from behind.
The sweet moon sharing the sunrise with me
Add to the pleasure of my drive.
I start my gratitude list.
Beginning with my sobriety
Each moment.
The people, The life,
The thinking, The feeling
And my ability
To share it all
With You

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/00eiIsaotPc

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Lie

January 1

Lie

Yes, a lie is just a lie, but the truth also has problems.  I relay the facts and the words take on a life of their own, leave out the backdoor and walk on down the road. They move to another town and never find time to come back for a visit even though, I am their mother.  And woe to the woman who grows attached to credit or recognition for her ideas.  These kidnapped prodigies are never ransomed but sold outright and their DNA not questioned or tested.

So, my advice is to love your words in secret and raise your notions behind high walls.  If you are ever called upon to share your wisdom, lie.  For even if you’re caught the risk is tolerable.  Exposure is awkward but then again no one is looking, so, what is there to lose.  A lie is just a lie but it stays home with you at night.

Tie a string to the moon

~

THE COWS ARE HIGHER THAN THE HOUSE

I got sober only to end up living in a house
where the cows are higher than the house.
I mean next to my house there is a hill
The hill is surrounded by a fence
The cows are pastured inside the fence
Standing on the hill the cows are taller than the house.

I didn't expect to live in a house where the cows were higher.
I expected normal
I didn't expect the cows at all.
I expected the house but not this house
It's at the end of the lane
It's the one with the rose colored shutters.

My sponsor wants to know why rose colored shutters
Are OK but cows overlooking the house aren't?
I can't answer her
It's just wrong - that's all!
I don't know why she can't understand this
It seems perfectly clear to me.

My sponsor says I am powerless over the cows
And my life is not unmanageable but my thinking is.
She tells me to paint purple cows.
To write stories about worse places for the cows to be
I tell her the tub.
She says write it down.
She's no fun.

I heard in a meeting I should pray for the people
And things I am upset about.
I pray for the cows
My sponsor says the cows see how I live my life
And she is sure the cows pray for me.

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/mvzU3AmU2J4

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Down the Upside

November 16

DOWN THE UPSIDE

On the downside of a rising star there is too much fear.  Anticipation is recommended for ascent, delight should be encouraged, but all out alarm is usually sounded whether it is needed or not.  Panic dims the shining pleasure of mounting the sky.  Refuting celestial status, denying astral projection, I renounce myself.  Attaining height, my position in space is apparent to bystanders and onlookers.  I need to ride the comet and accept fate, my nemesis.  Fortune shines on me, I should not squint away kismet.

Expand your spiritual muscle.

*

Who is the Parent?

There are more liars in my head than anywhere else

and they will say the most errant nonsense,

making it sound totally convincing.

First of all they use other people’s inventories

to leverage me into believing

that I am just what is needed

to lift each person’s  universe from despair;

Then they insist that my life will be incomplete

until I have saved nations and secured borders,

all the while failing to mention

the deadly nature of these attempts.

None of this is a problem unless I listen.

Liars’ lying causes me no trouble

until I accept and act on this bunk.

This is where a thorough inventory saves the day.

When I am clear about the truth of who and what I am

I can’t be easily led astray.

I know I am God’s child and the resemblance can be strong,

but today that burden is not mine to carry,

so I can stay busy being me.

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

Slaying Old Dragons

November 8

SLAYING OLD DRAGONS

Your roar is Doppler-low and I can feel my steps move the earth as I go forward.  Former dominator, scary from every angle, I come for you today.  The scales are falling.  I don’t rip them but they fall.  I can breathe at the heights of your lair; I am not shrinking.  The booming voice you had is gone, the power spilling away from you.  I don’t fly from you.  Gone is the tremble you once instilled.  The curtain has parted and you are revealed not as the dragon, the serpent, the monster but as the peacock you have always been, preening and screeching as ever.

Put your foot down and dance with the other.

*

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.

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

Joy is Not Enough

October 12

JOY IS NOT ENOUGH

I was driving around in my car, eating a meltingly ripe persimmon.  On the radio came a fiddle-playing band performing their rendition of In The White Room.  I was traveling with the three drafts of my first step, version one consisting of 690-some words and the final consisting of only four.  Joy is not enough.  That’s it.  The whole thing.  Today my life is unmanageable due to the fact, having a balanced life, feeling my wide range of feelings including joy, is not sufficient to eliminate the pain and damage of the past.  My horrific childhood has not healed, has not mended seamlessly.  I have joy today, every day at some point, in proportion to my sober choices.

I fail to realize the promise doesn’t say heal the past; it says I will not regret the past.  I don’t, at least not any of the choices I made.  Other peoples’ choices are not mine to regret, so I can’t do that for them.  I will not wish to shut the door on the past, and I don’t wish to.  I want it healed.  I may not get my wish.  Just because I am doing my part to heal the past doesn’t make anyone else do it.  I can’t strong-arm the perpetrators into recovery the way they strong-armed me into abuse.

Joy is not enough, but it’s a hell of a start.

Lend your assets; keep your defects home.

*

Matching

“Matching calamity for serenity,”

is a task requiring attentive diligence.

Each tragedy has its unique blast pattern

and necessitates a precisely cut cure.

Coverage is one concern and depth is another,

the weight of the healing atmosphere

must equal the corrosive depletion caused by ruin.

I have to make available the wound

in order to receive the remedy;

anytime I camouflage or barricade my injury

I have eliminated the opportunity for a corresponding solution.

Knowing this fact

and answering it with right action is the job of a lifetime,

but I cannot think of a more productive use of my time.

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

No Gold Stars

June 3

NO GOLD STARS

I look at my chart, then my chest; there are no gold stars.  I long for the affirmation of my great and seemingly endless struggle.  I watch the movements of those with shiny shoes and hope to be awarded with the gummed insignia.  When I hang by a thread, I desire the corroboration of foil cutouts to assure me I have done right; I have stayed alive.  Punishment I fear less than lack of consolation.  But, no one truly knows my bravery and if I want these paper emblems, I can just go and buy my own.

Count unhatched chickens but don’t place them on the menu.

*

The Hope Diamond

My guess is

the same god that wants me stupid

also wants me to suffer.

I ask myself what could be all powerful about that?

I wonder is God like a friend or a lover?

I carefully chose my friends

whereas my lover found me

against my greatest plans and well thought rules.

And if this is to be like marriage,

may I file for divorce if things go astray?

Or am I stuck with this match,

like I am stuck with my deformed ear

there underneath hat or fringe of hair?

I never thought of my relationship with God

like a necklace I could take on and off at will,

though the more I study it seems this beautiful thing

enhances my beauty if all is right

and will strangle me if it gets hung up.

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

The Orphanage of My Heart

March 26

THE ORPHANAGE OF MY HEART

The orphanage of my heart holds many children, children of my past.  They gaze at me, fixed in an attempt to draw me near their needs.  I scurry, often my head down, eyes averted, not knowing how to offer comfort or consideration to these hapless souls.  Fearing the largesse of the poverty, I decline to open my small purse.  What could I tender other than a tease?  Nearly barren in my heart-broken, disconsolate, inconsolable state, I rarely even obligate myself to extending my hand.  This is the pit of my idiocy.  These wee ones have the world of hope and strength to give.  I am their offertory.  I am the place where their gold resides.  They live inside me to fill me and bind me to life and light.  I flee them in the height of misunderstanding.  Disconnected from these inner spirits, I am impoverished and far too weak to grasp their help.  Too fogged to see the world within, I starve in the world without.

Incubate an idea.

*

New Borne

What happens when you finally get what you want,

what you barely dared to dream?

What happens when you can hardly do more

than drip tears down from smiling eyes?

Where do you go with a future filled with proposed joy?

Heaven is an option if only you believed,

but hell has been such a perennial destination

it’s hard to realize there will be no return trip this year

or possibly ever again.

The work required to change

from an attitude of longing to one of satisfaction

is as real as all the work needed thus far.

Tending love is a host of disciplines

I want to step to, like I have done it all my life,

like I was born to do it

and I was,

Still growth is accompanied

by its own pain and awkwardness

and who am I to deny this treat.

Any new life worth living

is worth the pain to bear it.

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

Hey Little Sister

December 29

Hey Little Sister

Who pulls the trigger, you or I, in this Shotgun relationship?   Is it more to the point if you slit my throat or if I slit my own?  I only ask for the sake of expedience, rudeness was never my intent.  I know we both wish this dilemma resolved with due speed and precision where possible.  I am not as concerned with my survival as much as neatness all around.  I hate to leave you with a mess and I would tuck my tail and go, but I have tried that before and still we end up here, so let’s end this shall we and hope that there are better worlds than this to find after we have shattered the sugar egg we used to live in.

Tend your human ivory

*

I AM

I am unloved though most everyone loves me

I am unwanted though there are those who stand in line

I am unknown though people who’ve met me never forget

I am unconscious though I seem awake

Because today it is about how I feel not what is real

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

At the Dodge

December 2

At The Dodge

I remember so long ago when I would come and sit and listen; soak in the poets and the Consort, sop it all into the sponge that listened and sat.  I did not know exactly what they were doing and I didn’t know why I was there, but I went and had a soak.  Now so many years hence I am the writer I never knew and I know just what they do because, I do it too!

Write a poem on your foot

*

GOOSE

I round this corner nearly every day.
There in the field stand a flock of problems,
Pecking the ground and flopping their wings.

Uniform and regular, the honking and squawking
Is undistinguishable from yesterday.

I ponder and squint, are these the same
Or yet another gaggle making their way
Along the migratory path?

Trouble is feral, skulking the edges of the field
But never sheltering in the yard.
I must leave my hands off
Knowing these are not mine.

The feathers fly and I gather the strays
Acutely aware of the ticklish nature of this.

Awkwardly I face the truth
No matter how much of a perplexity this is to me
Or others, it is only geese.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Make Use of Brown Soap

August 26

Make Use of Brown Soap

When I have death in my pocket it makes it easy to cross the street without a glance.  A little arsenic in my in my veins allows me to swallow the rest with no thought beyond want.  Twist the screws tight enough in my brain and no other pressure seems problematic.  All of the trouble in the world can beat a path to my door when I carry within me the seeds of destruction.  I have to check myself for stow-away devastation.  Ruin begins in tiny droplets but will wash me down the drain if not wiped immediately from my skin.  Vigilant acknowledgement of the power of small burdens protects me from the mind blown ravages of the ensuing cyclone.  Microbes cause mayhem, so I must watch where I touch and wash before I eat.

Don’t keep your windows shuttered; don’t keep your eyes closed

*

UNIFIED THEORY

When I build the circuit correctly the light comes on.

When I heal the shards together the bell rings.

If I am meticulous and attentive, if the world is gracious

And bares herself to my mind I will see how everything fits.

I know the reflexive nature of things

And the way life folds one thing inside the other.

Whale song is a long slow underwater birdcall.

Moon rise, sun rise, then the moon again.

The universe works without my interference

But also without my complete understanding.

I am learning how to be a part of a beautiful maze

I long to comprehend it.

The weeds are trying to take back the city

If I lay down maybe they will take me back too.

If I keep my eyes open I might see it all unfold.

Conception without is my desire within.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

T before S

August 11

T before S

When happiness is hard work I have to learn to look for the lie.  There must be a lie for happiness flows unrestrained when not dammed.  What was built too far up river for me to see, dries out my once liquid existence; leaving me to flounder in the shallows.  I can’t allow myself to flop in the muck of waters muddied with deceit.  I will permit myself to look for clear bright prospects from melting glaciers and accustom myself to the invigoration of a life lived under a loving watchful eye.

Keep water near by

*

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.

The courage and sheer determination

Needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence

And yet 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 one time panic prone sponsees

Become the model of calm and stable sponsors.

Hoards of relatives at holidays,

Interaction 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 spinning on

But we learn how to stand still.

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

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault