One Singular Crowd

January 4

One Singular Crowd

Isolation among the isolators is replete with metaphor and theme.  Expectation blithers loudly but is drown by the palpable inevitability of the outcome. I pirouette in a room filled with dancers but we do not touch, we just spin near one another full view but little contact.  Yet I hear my heart beating in my ear and know that I am alive.  The flush of neighboring cheeks attests to duplicate conditions there.  We are moving together sometimes in harmony but other times in antipathy, dependant all the same.  We are the army of independent meanings.  Individual cases sharing one slender goal but that’s all that we need.

If you can’t find the grape try some jelly.

~

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there's a boat stuck between two trees
In the middle of a horse pasture
Next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.
I think the boat is me.

I feel for the boat every time I see it.
Turned on edge, waiting for a river which doesn't exist anymore
And may never exist again
Placed on edge for protection, not comfort.

Although having my bottom rot out
Well, let's just say, might be more uncomfortable
What good will I be even if the river runs again
Since I'm fenced in?

If my Higher Power has a plan
If it includes a river and a fence
If I'm in this plan, me, the row boat
I just don't see it.

Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life
Truth is, I don't want to face the fact, I might float away
Even though I'm supported by two big trees
Even though there is a tall fence around me.

Completely in spite of the fact
THERE IS NO WATER
My Higher Power loves me.
I AM THE BOAT

Vlog:  http://youtu.be/BXqTSzIuod4

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 Boat

December 5

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there is a boat stuck between two trees in the middle of a horse pasture next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.  I think the boat is me.  I feel for the boat every time I see it.  Turned on edge, waiting for a river, which doesn't exist anymore and may never exist again.  Placed on edge for protection, not comfort. Although having my bottom rot out, well, let's just say might be more uncomfortable.  What good will I be even if the river runs again since I'm fenced in?  My sponsor says I shouldn't ask any question which starts with the word 'why'.  You know my reply.

If my Higher Power has a plan...if it includes a river and a fence…  if I'm in this plan, me, the rowboat…I just don't see it.  Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life says my sponsor.  I don't tell her the theme in hers.

Truth is, I don't want to face the fact I might float away. Even though I'm supported by two big trees.  Even though there is a tall fence all around me.  Completely in spite of the fact THERE IS NO WATER!  My Higher Power loves me.  I am the boat.

Enjoy the flowers and slide on the snow.

*

It All Points to Joy

Can Love reweave the fabric which hate destroys?

Can Kindness resew the field

torn through with disregard?

Can Beauty paint the world anew

after so much ugliness has rained down upon us?

My heart believes these three cannot fail

to make things right

for what other point could there be than Joy?

Vlog: http://youtu.be/chEY7foQ0Eo

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

To Sloop

July 26

TO SLOOP

When I was a tanker I carried such a heavy load.  The diesel cycle ran, combustion occurred at regular intervals and my internal temperature was terrific.  The fuel sprayed and things went round and round; the cost was high.  Now my principal means of propulsion is the wind in my sails.  Conversion was difficult, and though I found the rigging and mast a fascination, the ballast was a heavy load to bear.  The price of stability is responsibility.  Cargo is something short-lived, to be cast off at the next port.  Incumbent discretion is welded to my keel and will go with me to every harbor.  As a tankard, liquid was transported or consumed; as a cutter, dependability keeps me tacking into the wind.  Now, my outlay is low and my rewards are high.  I carry only what I need.  I am free, a sloop upon the sea.

Map your body.

*

Keds

If I gave a child a pair of sneakers

would I refuse to help them to tie them on?

Would I want this kid to wear them open,

tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous?

Or worse would I want the child

to have to lug the sneakers around;

the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift

and protect it from use or wear?

I hope that I would not be this sick,

misguided or deranged.

I have to say that I have given up believing

in a crazy God.

But this doesn’t mean that I can’t

drive God crazy with my insane behavior.

I have to stick my feet inside my shoes

and lift my foot for help.

I must open my mouth to ask,

then pay close attention so I can learn

to do it on my own;

all the while not beating myself up

that I can’t do it already.

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 Boat

December 5

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there is a boat stuck between two trees in the middle of a horse pasture next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass.  I think the boat is me.  I feel for the boat every time I see it.  Turned on edge, waiting for a river, which doesn't exist anymore and may never exist again.  Placed on edge for protection, not comfort. Although having my bottom rot out, well, let's just say might be more uncomfortable.  What good will I be even if the river runs again since I'm fenced in?  My sponsor says I shouldn't ask any question which starts with the word 'why'.  You know my reply.

If my Higher Power has a plan...if it includes a river and a fence…  if I'm in this plan, me, the rowboat…I just don't see it.  Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life says my sponsor.  I don't tell her the theme in hers.

Truth is, I don't want to face the fact I might float away. Even though I'm supported by two big trees.  Even though there is a tall fence all around me.  Completely in spite of the fact THERE IS NO WATER!  My Higher Power loves me.  I am the boat.

Enjoy the flowers and slide on the snow.

*

It All Points to Joy

Can Love reweave the fabric which hate destroys?

Can Kindness resew the field

torn through with disregard?

Can Beauty paint the world anew

after so much ugliness has rained down upon us?

My heart believes these three cannot fail

to make things right

for what other point could there be than Joy?

In The Meadow

June 15

IN THE MEADOW

Being the only tree in the meadow often leaves me feeling lonely.  I tell myself of the camaraderie I imagine in the forest.  These images are more poetic than real.  I believe in community and support; I think of the woods as this place apart from the complications of my exposed life.  I shrug off the very real competition and struggle from sharing every inch of root space and the search for each square of sunlight.  There is much joy in being an individual.  An eco-system of diversity allows me to fully develop.  I can spread my branches and my roots.  I can offer shelter to those in need of my reaching and my shadow; tender flowers and tired birds find me a haven.  I have unique abilities in this field.  Space can feel lonely but it is full of possibilities.

Press up against your iron will.

*

Poe-etiquette

Cosmic questions cross the sky,

I wonder but don’t ask why

I pitch the tent, but don’t stay the night

I borrow money and don’t pay the rent

I sooth myself but can’t be content

I earn my keep though it is all been spent

The real true meanings are pushed away,

Has ready tragedy come to stay

Forever darkness, no more light of day

Cheerful greeting left to lay

All the poets bring their knives

For blood letting’s become their prize

Here I sit and tend the boat

Rocking dingy out to moor

I play the Raven, black and poor

I dare not speak it but in my mind sing

“Never more”