K-Turns

May 7

K-TURNS

I do not believe in a universe that makes complete sense.  I often find myself trapped because the things I pull into no longer feel firm.  I attempt K-turns in alleys far too narrow for the maneuver.  I can’t back myself through the passages I plunged into willingly.  My faith doesn’t compute in reverse and I find this disconcerting.  I may walk into the face of fire but find it impossible to turn my back on the flames.  Today, a one-way faith is fine as long as I am moving forward.

Allow talents to unfold like spring leaves.

*

The Little Black Dress

The holes in my pockets cause me to feel naked.

Though it is an inside pocket

and no one can see I still feel exposed,

My thinking changed and for that matter chained,

one link looped through the next.

I start with a hole in my pocket

so I know I can’t stay in this dress all day.

I know I will need the storage later as time wears on

but I can’t change now

and I don’t want to waste time putting on my tights.

My legs are cold.  I fly from room to room.

I gather my keys, but forget my phone.

I am bare legged and unreachable,

overexposed due to a hole in my pocket.

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

Moniker

September 30

Moniker

The Hurt carry on the tradition, would never think to give it up, don’t even know there is that option, strap on their weapons without a second thought.  How can there be a second thought when there never was a first.  Hurt is a reflex and it moves its way through the world like dominoes tumbling; everything’s knocked down before you ever saw it standing. So, what’s the use anyway? So, I fall down and in that action push you forward and we are all together in the mud, but it is so hard to recognize anyone in the mud, including myself and especially you.  If I hurt you that makes it hard for me to see anything about you except my wish for your departure, which I subconsciously hope will take away the guilt I can’t afford to feel.  If I make it out of the mud I can’t afford anything, but if I don’t pay up I’ll be in new mud soon, so I must break tradition and the first step toward that is seeing it and the second is calling it by its name.       

Open up your secret vault and unload

*

BATTLESHIP

If the first is a guess, what is the second?

Paranoia or worse.?

Action is a blessing, reaction a debilitation

And to twist from reaction to self-doubt

Sinks the battle and the battleship.

When I can’t make sense, the gift is stepping back,

Better to put my hand down than to lose the farm.

When I find myself in a minefield I can walk gingerly

Or wait for aid to come from above, air rescue or other.

The option of rethinking every step sets me dancing

The tune which begins this hurky jerky polka of death which

Stems from the metronome of criticism playing in my ear.

When I am overwhelmed with critique

I give up acceptance of chance or joy of spontaneity

Throwing myself into a pit of apprehension.

I am safer being wrong occasionally

Then unsure forever

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

The Dark Fantastic

August 15

The Dark Fantastic

When the tornado touches down worry ends; the anticipation is over and thought stops.  Tragedy is funny that way.  In the aftermath I find out what mattered and what didn’t; whether I have helped or injured myself trying to plan for the worst.  I fail to realize there are cloud filled days when nothing happens and days when trouble comes from out of the blue.  What matters ultimately is if I was happy yesterday all the way into today until the thunder struck.  Greed is not: living for today; greed is my attempt at gathering the future while dragging the past.

Compel your brilliance to shine

*

AUTUMN

The falling leaves slap my hand

As I ride the road at fifty mile per

My arm dangling.

Exposed they stand stark,

Stripped naked to the soul.

The growth of this years yearnings on the fringe.

I can follow this lead

Remove pretence not clothing

Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me.

Unashamed of my wants and the things I reach for

I can cast off the uniform of evolution

And enjoy a long winter of truth.

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

K-turns

May 7

K-TURNS

I do not believe in a universe that makes complete sense.  I often find myself trapped because the things I pull into no longer feel firm.  I attempt K-turns in alleys far too narrow for the maneuver.  I can’t back myself through the passages I plunged into willingly.  My faith doesn’t compute in reverse and I find this disconcerting.  I may walk into the face of fire but find it impossible to turn my back on the flames.  Today, a one-way faith is fine as long as I am moving forward.

Allow talents to unfold like spring leaves.

*

The Little Black Dress

The holes in my pockets cause me to feel naked.

Though it is an inside pocket

and no one can see I still feel exposed,

My thinking changed and for that matter chained,

one link looped through the next.

I start with a hole in my pocket

so I know I can’t stay in this dress all day.

I know I will need the storage later as time wears on

but I can’t change now

and I don’t want to waste time putting on my tights.

My legs are cold.  I fly from room to room.

I gather my keys, but forget my phone.

I am bare legged and unreachable,

overexposed due to a hole in my pocket.

Matching

October 14

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.

Admit to the uniforms you wear

*

SLIPSTREAM

I look in the rearview mirror
I see the headliner and a river flowing out behind me.
Dual viewing is the kind gift of hindsight.

I can see my internal workings and the past laid bare.
The beauty and sadness can transfix me.
I will lose my way if I keep looking back.

I catch glimpses and move my eyes forward.
I can’t advance without a full vision
So I remain grateful for the mirror.
Awareness and cognition, the brakes and the gas
I have the full package.
I just have to make sure to steer.

Participant Observer

August 14

Participant Observer

Underneath it all I am more than naked; I am hidden by exposure. My body can never be as nude as life with you in my thoughts. My mind is a polygraph you wander through. I have determined this is more than safe and unlock the closets. You are not my warden looking for contraband, nor the janitor looking for trash, you are here, you are my friend having a better look around simply to know me better and to love me well. Your unfamiliar stride is exciting, I show off the places I long for you to see and stand aside from the rest, it is all yours to look through. I do not resist. You are my peaceful guardian; I am your willing charge.

Sit with impatience and sooth it

*

CAMPAIGN

Sobriety is the Santa Clause that brings delightful gifts

Which make me smile.

Recovery is the Gene

Which comes from staying out of bottles.

The Jin makes treasure possible

But doesn’t bring it to the door.

The ads and billboards of illusion built a world of booze

But no hope for a real life.

I have learned to turn from all the lies of picking up

And live in the possibilities which open

Only when I put down the drink and the thinking.

I don’t need to pin up stockings

Or rub lamps, just take direction

And make willingness my campaign.

Autumn

August 25


AUTUMN



The falling leaves slap my hand as I ride the road at fifty miles per, my arm dangling
The trees are shedding their masquerade
Exposed they stand stark, stripped
Naked to the soul
The growth of this year's yearning waves on the fringe
I can follow this lead
Remove pretense not clothing
Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me
Unashamed of my wants
And the things I reach for
I can cast off the uniform of evolution
And enjoy a long winter of truth


Do what you do.

Drowning Naked

April 19

DROWNING NAKED


Bare and exposed, I laid myself on the altar of my home group. With AA as my only Source, I emptied the contents of my soul and bore the mantle of overexposure. But vultures lurked in many rooms. I was safely guided, by persons of my gender, to the more secluded and effective place of transmission. I thrust myself into the arms and mind of my sponsor. She escorted me up the steps with the door closed and taught me how and when it could be prudently opened. AA is a power greater than me. So is the ocean. Precaution needs to be taken when wading in. Care must be exercised as to how much to bare.


Wrap your intentions in wool to keep them warm and in gold to keep them untarnished.