The One I Bought

June 6

THE ONE I BOUGHT

There are fairy tales I never gave credence to.  Multiple bear stories don’t move me.  Cats with footwear have not warranted a second thought.  True love-----now that one I still buy hook, line and sinker.  Work hard and true love will fix the rest; that is what I have always believed.  The evil spell I have walked under during my sad little life will be broken only by the durable and all-fulfilling love of my betrothed.  Each time this plan fell through, the blame was leveled at the wrongness of the match but not the wrongness of the plot.  Anytime I work to be restored to sanity by one person, I have displaced a rightful power and thrown myself to the sea.

Let a whisker width of optimism carry your day.

*

Enclosed Space

In the echo chamber it is the cymbals

which cause the most pain.

The drums resound, deep and loud,

but it is the crashing of brass that drives me wild.

Cotton, wool and sealing wax

cannot put my head at ease.

Resonate walls with their hollow effects

create the feedback loops of hurt.

Like the endless reflection of parallel mirrors

the sounds come back to me with relentless repetition.

Aural illusion might have been the idea,

but chaos is the result.

Leaving the space between these ears

will be, will allow, the band to play on

without the benefit of my torment.

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

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.

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

Slipstream

October 27

SLIPSTREAM

I look in the rearview mirror; I see the headliner and a river of road 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 gas, I have the full package; I just have to make sure to steer.

Tell a joke to a cat.

*

Picard

The little tin whistle I yearn to play

squeaks in my head

warning that I have no time to learn

and a tin whistle though slender is not easy.

I think if I had a magic wrinkler for time I might learn,

I remember characters that have, but I rethink this

and remember I don’t want to win the lottery again.

I am too good at too many things

and have no time to enjoy their full round pleasure.

I have no need for additional longing or extended guilt.

Napping

April 16

NAPPING


Too often, I have lifted the edge of the lawn in an attempt to join the worms for a bit of a dirt nap. Or I crawled into a self-constructed cave to bear my feelings and hibernate from life. The times I sprint with the deer, jumping the fences in hopes of escaping the wolves, these are all the times when I forget who I am. I forget to ask direction, fail to make a meeting. Seeing those of my ilk puts my feet on the ground, focuses my perspective on just what sort of creature I am. I can’t always follow my instincts when I don’t know who I am. I can’t see myself until I stand next to you.


Relax one toe at a time.