Bells

October 4

BELLS

The bells are ringing but no one sings.  There are no peals of laughter and that’s just fine, for pleasure is not the only response to sound.  Shock and distain are other options, too.  I have what I want in relationship to the buzz in my ear, equal opportunity attitude, pro and con.  Some songs bring joy when they end.  I have to lower my expectation of pleasure and value my distaste for tinkling sounds or any other preordained sweetness.

See through your problems.

*

Jeopardy

Today I tore down the isolation booth.

I didn’t live in there exactly;

sometimes I stuffed God in there

and went out for a ride.

I left that shack stand for far, too long;

a testimony to ill conceived,

ham-handed, control freaks everywhere.

I said all I wanted was some peace,

but a vacuum is not tranquility

and escape won’t substitute either.

Since the live studio audience has gone home

and the house lights are dimmed,

I feel pretty foolish for playing

round after round on my own.

This game was never any fun

and the sponsors were death merchants and scavengers

whose interest lay in destruction and nothing else.

I must not cast aspersions, I didn’t care

that the contest was merely an upright pit

with a lethal pendulum, I used it as a hideout and a lair,

A place whose walls

I could keep between me and my Higher Power

and an activity I could depend on

to keep me free from living a life.

It all came to the ground today;

I walk over the splinters and shards,

I know there has to be a better game

and I’m ready to play.

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

Mercy

September 21

Mercy

The rearview holds the vision, the sad figure on the corner as I drive away, all that is left to me are memories of G-d, the rest I ejected and sped from as fast as I could.  I cannot face what is left when I make G-d homeless and unloved.  Though living together was tough sometimes, living alone is unbearable.  Nothing cooks right, cleans right, tastes right or smells right, even the moon won’t rise right when I am strictly on my own.  And G-d wasn’t built for the streets, that corner is not someplace my Higher Power fits in.  We are meant to be together and apart the world spins off its measure.  Pitiful is what I am, so I swing around the block, fling open the door and take pity on G-d and go home.

Make time for lullabies

*

BELLS

The bells are ringing but no one sings

There are no peals of laughter and that’s just fine

For pleasure is not the only response to sound.

Shock and distain are other options, too.

I have what I want in relationship to the buzz in my ear

Equal opportunity attitude, pro and con.

Some songs bring joy when they end.

I have to lower my expectation of pleasure

And value my distaste for tinkling sounds

Or any other preordained sweetness.

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

Who Rang?

May 19

Who Rang?

Examine the instillation of your buttons as a process of discovery for disabling them.  Pay attention to the wiring but also to the hardware.  Sometimes the advertising is the thing which keeps alive something better off put to rest.  Many things are rooted in other pots and have a lifeline from outside of the current host.  All the connections and housing should be explored as well as what work the mechanism does once pressed.  Is there a gong, tinkling bells?  Does it release the wolves from their den or tiger from his lair? Information is a tool which never fails to help me in disassembling the traps and their triggers I must not shy from the gathering.

If you reframe the past don’t crop reality

*

NETWORKS

Testing my sponsor when I’m hurt

Is like probing for gas with a lit cigar in my mouth

If I can’t find a way to douse the cheroot before posing my questions

It’s guaranteed I will get an explosive response

I need a network

They follow me with sand

Snatch from me my burning pacifier

And save me from sticking my smoldering end where it doesn’t belong

We all need a little excitement in our lives

But don’t have to become an incendiary device to fill the need

I forget that boring isn’t the same as death

It just feels that way

Some days distance prevents disaster

A good support system carries me away

To face it on another day.

Bells

October 4

BELLS

The bells are ringing but no one sings.  There are no peals of laughter and that’s just fine, for pleasure is not the only response to sound.  Shock and distain are other options, too.  I have what I want in relationship to the buzz in my ear, equal opportunity attitude, pro and con.  Some songs bring joy when they end.  I have to lower my expectation of pleasure and value my distaste for tinkling sounds or any other preordained sweetness.

See through your problems.

*

Jeopardy

Today I tore down the isolation booth.

I didn’t live in there exactly;

sometimes I stuffed God in there

and went out for a ride.

I left that shack stand for far, too long;

a testimony to ill conceived,

ham-handed, control freaks everywhere.

I said all I wanted was some peace,

but a vacuum is not tranquility

and escape won’t substitute either.

Since the live studio audience has gone home

and the house lights are dimmed,

I feel pretty foolish for playing

round after round on my own.

This game was never any fun

and the sponsors were death merchants and scavengers

whose interest lay in destruction and nothing else.

I must not cast aspersions, I didn’t care

that the contest was merely an upright pit

with a lethal pendulum, I used it as a hideout and a lair,

A place whose walls

I could keep between me and my Higher Power

and an activity I could depend on

to keep me free from living a life.

It all came to the ground today;

I walk over the splinters and shards,

I know there has to be a better game

and I’m ready to play.

All Better Now

May 17

ALL BETTER NOW

Mother kissed the booboo and I wait for the admonition to take effect.  Waiting, I count the problems like telephone poles on a long journey.  What will it be like, the world all better?  The anticipation nearly breaks me for a while until waiting turns to disbelief.  A chill fills the space and 'all better' becomes the cry.  My sponsor calls for moderation and lowering my expectation.  The child’s ears ring with the promise to be fulfilled.  She can not give herself over to a world where a Band-Aid is not a cure-all but only a cover for the slow work of internal healing, scars and all.  Sheer survival is not sufficient for the screaming toddler; heartbreak from injustice calls for more than endurance.  But, alas, a kiss is all we have.

Time pulls the tide and the tide pulls you; let it.

*

Who Rang?

Examine the instillation of your buttons

as a process of discovery for disabling them.

Pay attention to the wiring but also to the hardware.

Sometimes the advertising is the thing

which keeps alive something better off put to rest.

Many things are rooted in other pots

and have a lifeline from outside of the current host.

All the connections and housing should be explored

as well as what work the mechanism does once pressed.

Is there a gong, tinkling bells?

Does it release the wolves from their den or tiger from his lair?

Information is a tool which never fails to help me

in disassembling the traps and their triggers

I must not shy from the gathering.