Will You Get to the Other Side

September 8

WILL YOU GET TO THE OTHER SIDE?

Chickens stand together on the edge of the road pecking and scratching; people make fun.  People tell jokes but it’s not so funny when we are the ones playing on the tracks.  We forget that all the excuses about longing for excitement and not wanting to be cut off from the world sound like so much cackling to the ears of people who value their lives.  Life in the pasture or the backyard is fulfilling if you want it.  That kind of life is no adrenaline rush, but then again isn’t adrenaline just another drug?

Tell the truth as if it were the weather.

*

Helping Hands?

Why would you go to a rattler for a snakebite remedy?

It feels so much like the hair of the dog that bit me.

The truth is I must, must stay away from the quick answers.

I am a slow healer, but I do heal if I allow myself to do so

unencumbered by poison or untruth.

When I am returning to the vomit of my past

it is incumbent upon me to search for the old lies

and/or the new ones, either or both will get me drunk;

do I even need the help of a prescription pad?

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

When a Snapper Crosses the Road

April 29

WHEN A SNAPPER CROSSES THE ROAD

What should I do?  I see the soggy green/gray lump creeping the macadam too slow to survive for long.  The surge in me, to aim and end the duckling eater's life, is a short-lived but palpable surge.  My Disney style justice is dismissed but heard from nonetheless.  Shall I pull over and assist?  This turtle is as ill equipped for this stretch of road as I am ill equipped to aid in its conveyance.  Should I reach with fingers or toes to something I know can extend its neck and sever me from parts I hold dear?  The ever-present missionary in me has spoken and is silenced.  In fact, what I can do is slow down and give wide berth.  I know this creature is a danger, but never more so than me.

Plot your graph and measure your curve.

*

Terry Bradshaw

When someone wants to take the easy way out

I condemn them for wanting ease

and fail to register that they want out.

I hear a whine when in fact it’s a cry.

A challenge is rarely passed up by the able bodied,

but must be foregone by the injured.

Carried from the field is no personal victory,

not a goal for sure.

When I would rather watch than play

I need to check for wounds not inflict them.

It is not natural for me to sit in the stands,

but accusation is never the way to get me on the field.

Suit up when I’m whole and hide when I’m not.

Absence is a fallback position for the fallen

I have to help myself to get back 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 Slick Nature of Grace

August 29

The Slick Nature of Grace

The higher I climb, the more severe the fall; the sweeter my life, the more brittle my blood sugar.  I must be more careful as I get better.  I thought being sober would make my life free from care, but I think it is a freedom from fretting that might be more accurate.  I must still climb and take in all the sweetness which comes my way, but always I must vigilantly keep my balance.  Hold on tighter; eat more protein.  Grace is a glorious thing and I am the consecrated recipient who knows the slickness of the slopes and the cunning of the glucose.  Daring to be sober is an athletic endeavor I must tighten my cleats and sharpen my sweet tooth.

Check your motives against something fixed, then against something in motion

*

WILL YOU GET TO THE OTHER SIDE

Chickens stand together on the edge of the road

Pecking and scratching

People make fun.

People tell jokes

But it’s not so funny when we are the ones

Playing on the tracks.

We forget that all the excuses about

Longing for excitement and

Not wanting to be cut off from the world

Sound like so much cackling

To the ears of people who value their lives.

Life in the pasture or the backyard

Is fulfilling if you want it.

That kind of life is no adrenaline rush

But then again isn’t adrenaline just another drug.

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

My Experiences with Tennis

April 12

My Experiences with Tennis

I have held the racket, I have hit the ball, but I have never played with a partner.  I have slammed the fuzzy orb against the wall for long years now, but I have never had a mate.  There were times when I had opponents; yes I’ve had a couple of those, a collaborator though, that I have never had.  I have learned to overcome opposition either through wile or guile.  Slugged my way toward some inevitable outcome, I never expected you on my court.  The game we play is for keeps and the muscles required I have never used, I ache from the pain of ending an atrophy imposed on me by isolation and misunderstanding.  Often I don’t know how to stand, don’t know how to act; don’t know how to be the equal to your service.  I play chase, running after the thing I didn’t see and only faintly felt.  I have come to the place where I know, you and I are a team; you will not be leaving looking for someone better equipped or with greater experience.  It is time for me to lay out in front of you my host of tendencies and inclinations. I’m in the habit of overwhelming with my strength to hide my weakness; I must expose this all to you, the strength and the weakness, and work together for the resolution. I will no longer pretend that I know what is right and wrong in this un-played game.  I fear that I will lose the old game by making this change, all that is familiar put up for grabs to the uncertain outcome of paired sports.  All I truly know is that with you by my side I can never lose and I will learn to do whatever it takes to be your wife.

                                     

Dream with an open mind

*

SOLIDITY

Apprehension stands in the archaeological site

Which is my life -----listening

Listening for the rumble of a cement truck to come

And help solidify the shifting and tenuous nature of my existence

A wet and sloppy solution

A solution to be raked and smoothed, covered and cured

Something to build a monument on

Or a place to park my car

The nearby grass looks lush and green

But I dare not leave apprehension alone or it spreads

I stand with it on bad days

And against it on good ones

I pray for the mixer to arrive

Or at least the gravel spreader

I need to fill this hole so it can be a life

And stop being a grave.

Will You Get to the Other Side?

September 8

WILL YOU GET TO THE OTHER SIDE?

Chickens stand together on the edge of the road pecking and scratching; people make fun.  People tell jokes but it’s not so funny when we are the ones playing on the tracks.  We forget that all the excuses about longing for excitement and not wanting to be cut off from the world sound like so much cackling to the ears of people who value their lives.  Life in the pasture or the backyard is fulfilling if you want it.  That kind of life is no adrenaline rush, but then again isn’t adrenaline just another drug?

Tell the truth as if it were the weather.

*

Helping Hands?

Why would you go to a rattler for a snakebite remedy?

It feels so much like the hair of the dog that bit me.

The truth is I must, must stay away from the quick answers.

I am a slow healer, but I do heal if I allow myself to do so

unencumbered by poison or untruth.

When I am returning to the vomit of my past

it is incumbent upon me to search for the old lies

and/or the new ones, either or both will get me drunk;

do I even need the help of a prescription pad?