Bowman Beach

October 17

Bowman Beach

The swirl with the flash of teeth that I backed away from turned out to be dolphin, but that didn’t make me safer, strangers are strangers no matter who their PR team is.  When I am out of my element fear grows long leads and I am bound by these limits.  Who I am under new circumstances is a discovery I make as time flies by.  Can I swim and play with exuberance or will I drown trying to catch up?  I am able and disabled, the line is tied from the back and I don’t know its length.  I unreel as much slack as I can and test my reach, but still I must keep my wary eye and be careful of the deep.

Think of something nice to say about a pigeon

*

MISS DIRECTED

I called and rambled at my sponsor.
After a significant time had past she stopped me
And asked--with a tone in her voice--
Why are you calling me?

Startled I replied, for your advice?
Are you sure that’s why you called?
Because I can give you my advice
But I have given advice to you before
And received only a severe case of the
Yeah Buts’-----in return.

I was about to say, yeah but, you don’t understand,
When she cleared her throat to quiet me
And continued what she was saying.
Seems to me you want more than a sober ear
You want Magic.

You want me to take your crazy dramatic thinking
Put it in a hat and pull it out formed as all your dreams
And then you want credit for making it happen.
But Kitten, I have news for you I’m not Mr. Roark
And this is not Fantasy Island.

This is sobriety and you can’t just have your way.
This is when I realized I was a dry drunk.
I don’t know what the first signs are
But I do know when your sponsor asks-
And you’re calling me why? The jig is up.

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

No Substitute for Fire

October 1

No Substitute for Fire

I wanted alcohol to do better for me than burning did.  I was constantly disappointed, yet I kept trying.  I was not to find pleasure in that bottle though I had no problem finding addiction there.  This is how I came to believe that there is not an upside to everything.  Booze took me to surprising destinations, but never the ones I desired.  I sought release, the release I got from a wildfire spreading across my skin and this might have been mine had I poured the liquor on rather than in.  But in me it did no good, it never let me exhale the way that the “right” kind of pain did. What I got from alcohol drove me though; fear rode me roughshod and I found my way home, it was a bumpy road, but once there we doused the flames and I live the upside I had come to doubt, because fire is no substitute for life.

Randomize the alphabet, then write

*

MY MOON

I anticipate the crowning of your face

As you birth the sky.

Your rhythmic visitation sates me.

The gravity of my need keeps you close.

The tide of my heart pulls you from shore to shore.

We live in the sweet ecstasy of tethered love

Our souls slingshoting across the open palm of heaven

Your empathy for me transforms these shards of ice

To a tender heart satelliteing

I orbit you

Empowered by your kindness

You are my moon.

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

Wee Hours

September 30

WEE HOURS

In the wee hours I hear the high pitched wail, the tiny pest whining in my ear, the onset of my thin stretched nerves reaching their end.  A few more hours are required of me tonight.  I rally my spirit and lift the edges of my willing resolve.  Long slow nights carry me to the far corners of my mind.  I am more average than I had imagined or hoped for.  The commonness of four AM brings the base to disclosure, the charmed exposure of predawn wakefulness.  The fuzzy vibrations in my brain make me feel deep and real, vulnerable to all the normal limitations of nature and caprice.  The sun will rise, ending this night.  My sentry over, I will fall to earth, and rest, and bed.

Change everything, change yourself.

*

No Substitute for Fire

I wanted alcohol to do better for me than burning did.

I was constantly disappointed, yet I kept trying.

I was not to find pleasure in that bottle

though I had no problem finding addiction there.

This is how I came to believe

that there is not an upside to everything.

Booze took me to surprising destinations,

but never the ones I desired.

I sought release,

the release I got from a wildfire spreading across my skin

and this might have been mine

had I poured the liquor on rather than in.

But in me it did no good,

it never let me exhale

the way that the “right” kind of pain did.

What I got from alcohol drove me though;

Fear rode me roughshod and I found my way home,

it was a bumpy road,

but once there we doused the flames

and I live the upside I had come to doubt,

because fire is no substitute for life.