Pastry

July 8

PASTRY

Like French pastry, sobriety gets richer with each layer.  As I investigate these layers I approach the buttery center.  The fat seeps through the years, makes boundaries crisp and intimacy velvety.  Ingredients, which ordinarily wouldn’t mix, somehow blend and counterpoint one another in a flaky shell.  Fruit and nuts improve every bite. Though there are times which are a bit crumbly, most of the structure is strong and the invention skillful. Pastry and sobriety are compositions of strength and brilliance, which are meant to be taken internally.

Juggle solutions.

*

Night Clothes and Bed Clothes

Is there any indulgence

quite like that of clean sleepwear

warm from the laundry?

Pulling on jammies over squeaky clean skin

and the little shutter that goes with tired hedonism

is a pleasure without formed words,

left for grateful sounds and little moans.

Hard work creates more than stability,

more than cash flow, more than mere exhaustion,

hard work changes my mind about delight.

It allows me to see it in the most obvious,

most subtle of places.

My bed has become haven, hospital, refuge

and I am tucked up in my nest, safely out of my mind.

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

Dessert

May 4

DESSERT

I have to be my own appetizer; I have to be the thing that entices and intrigues me.  I must be the roughage, the salad full of color and variety.  The entree must be me, as well.  The things that sustain me, the meat of my life, I have to supply and swallow down.  I can be all this.  I run to the sweetness of others but this cannot be my source of sustenance.  The greater part of me needs to derive from me.  I can set the table and fill it with the fullness of who I am.  I am enough and others are dessert.  Twinkies will never be sufficient.  They can only be a treat.

Make sure your work area is well ventilated.

*

Yield Don’t Stop

If I let amazement stop my progress

I will become landlocked instead of becoming free.

Picture wagon wheels planted in Kansas

when the destination had been California.

Yes, the plains are great,

but if that was not my aim it is a far cry from heaven.

Arriving at any haven is tempting;

when it crosses to captivating then to captivation,

here is where the problem lay.

Steps six and seven changed me and this is good.

If I allow this to halt me this is disaster.

If the wheels fall off the wagon I walk.

If I grow too tired to walk I pant with my friends

and we carry each other, we don’t stop.

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

Coming Home to Work

April 25

Coming Home to Work

I have arrived home to a beehive; everyone industrious, everyone filled with purpose, everything buzzing right along.  My response to this of course is anger.  I have a sting and I want to use it.  I have a place it falls into yet I fear falling.  The living world is now opened to me, but my destination had been death for so long that the prospect of diligence ignites steel blue fury.  I divide my time between gratitude and rage.  I want to accuse myself, rescue myself, then I remember everyone in this place has a buzz, a stripe and a stinger.

Hum in a foreign language

*

DESSERT

I have to be my own appetizer

I have to be the thing which entices and intrigues me

I must be the roughage, the salad full of color and variety

The entrée must be me, as well.

The things which sustain me

The meat of my life

I have to supply and swallow it down

I can be all this.

I run to the sweetness of others

But this cannot be my source of sustenance

The greater part of me

Needs to derive from me.

I can set the table

And fill it with the fullness of who I am

I am enough and others are dessert

Twinkies will never be sufficient, they can only be a treat.

Pastry

July 8

PASTRY

Like French pastry, sobriety gets richer with each layer.  As I investigate these layers I approach the buttery center.  The fat seeps through the years, makes boundaries crisp and intimacy velvety.  Ingredients, which ordinarily wouldn’t mix, somehow blend and counterpoint one another in a flaky shell.  Fruit and nuts improve every bite. Though there are times which are a bit crumbly, most of the structure is strong and the invention skillful. Pastry and sobriety are compositions of strength and brilliance, which are meant to be taken internally.

Juggle solutions.

*

Night Clothes and Bed Clothes

Is there any indulgence

quite like that of clean sleepwear

warm from the laundry?

Pulling on jammies over squeaky clean skin

and the little shutter that goes with tired hedonism

is a pleasure without formed words,

left for grateful sounds and little moans.

Hard work creates more than stability,

more than cash flow, more than mere exhaustion,

hard work changes my mind about delight.

It allows me to see it in the most obvious,

most subtle of places.

My bed has become haven, hospital, refuge

and I am tucked up in my nest, safely out of my mind.

Dessert

May 4

DESSERT

I have to be my own appetizer; I have to be the thing that entices and intrigues me.  I must be the roughage, the salad full of color and variety.  The entree must be me, as well.  The things that sustain me, the meat of my life, I have to supply and swallow down.  I can be all this.  I run to the sweetness of others but this cannot be my source of sustenance.  The greater part of me needs to derive from me.  I can set the table and fill it with the fullness of who I am.  I am enough and others are dessert.  Twinkies will never be sufficient.  They can only be a treat.

Make sure your work area is well ventilated.

*

Yield Don’t Stop

If I let amazement stop my progress

I will become landlocked instead of becoming free.

Picture wagon wheels planted in Kansas

when the destination had been California.

Yes, the plains are great,

but if that was not my aim it is a far cry from heaven.

Arriving at any haven is tempting;

when it crosses to captivating then to captivation,

here is where the problem lay.

Steps six and seven changed me and this is good.

If I allow this to halt me this is disaster.

If the wheels fall off the wagon I walk.

If I grow too tired to walk I pant with my friends

and we carry each other, we don’t stop.

Pastry

July 8

PASTRY




Like French pastry, sobriety gets richer with each layer. As I investigate these layers I approach the buttery center. The fat seeps through the years, makes boundaries crisp and intimacy velvety. Ingredients, which ordinarily wouldn’t mix, somehow blend and counterpoint one another in a flaky shell. Fruit and nuts improve every bite. Though there are times which are a bit crumbly, most of the structure is strong and the invention skillful. Pastry and sobriety are compositions of strength and brilliance, which are meant to be taken internally.


Juggle solutions.