Stubborn

August 5

STUBBORN

When the donkey won’t move forward it’s time to stop running.  No need to make an ass of myself through force or coercion.  The dumb animal may be mute but its actions speak.  Reluctance is a warning.  If my animal nature is balking, listening not shoving is the preferred course.  Super intelligence can’t best good horse sense.  I must stand with my intuition; that creature depends on my survival for life.

Balance your shoe with your foot.

*

What are We Fighting For

Instead of competition for dominance

we would benefit from cooperation for survival.

The struggle to become the very best destroyers in the world

very well might make us postmortem champions.

Why is it that the lions don’t work to eradicate hyenas?

They could, but they don’t.

Why not, is the ever present question on my mind.

I have no answer as to why we strive to conquer.

A thousand platitudes come to mind,

but nothing fast or tight, nothing that holds water.

So, the question remains; why are we hell bent?

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

Thin Ice

February 18

THIN ICE

The ice is brittle, transparent and breaking away.  I brace for destruction, turmoil and frigid descent.  I am stuck in my topside thinking and can not realize the chance for freedom the cracking expanse promises.  I am an oceanic creature.  I can escape my watery bonds with the splitting of the ice.  Trapped in a hole I keep open only through the friction of my unrest, I am kept from the community of life to which I belong.  My reflection mixes with my view of the sky and I forget my place, forget my name, forget how I have come to be trapped here.  The pining after what is not mine to have has brought me to this thin edge.  I must break through to be who I am; in doing so I shatter the illusion of who I thought I was.  Zeal to zenith I must move away from the phantasm and mockery and take refuge in what I am.

Remember your genius.

*

Hiding

“Defeat is what you make of it,” says my sponsor.

“Fighting a thousand secret battles

when you claim that you want peace is not right.

The agony of defeat is when you keep on fighting.

There is no honor in waving the white flag,

but never laying down your arms.”

“I can’t just give them up

they have been in the family for years,”

my whining retort.

“I’m sure they have, darling, I’m sure they have,

and haven’t done any of you a lick of good either,”

her smug reply.

“They are good for sabotage,”

I begin my running start at her.

“Sabotage is something you only do to yourself,

because who else can you really sabotage?

Who do you really hate enough other than you?”

“My hobby is denying that you know.”

“Yes, and sweet lot of good it does you,

The war rages within you

and outside you say it’s harmony,

no matter all the signs of discord.”

“And if I were to really give up.  If, I were really tired enough,

how can I insure my safety?”

I asked with my hands nearly in the air.

“Tell the truth, even if it’s only to yourself.

Put space between you and weapons of mass destruction.

Oh, and make sure you surrender to a friend.”

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

Gulping

June 9

GULPING

The plug that lodges in my throat from too much, too fast, causes the anxiety to rise in me.  The panic fulls my contracting muscles into rock solid revolt.  'I can’t live' is the predictable result.  Gulping attention, acclaim, excitement, sex does the same thing.  My heart clots and my personality stops in mid flow.  Everything, in carefully chosen well-chewed bites, makes the process proceed.  My life works along workable paths if I stay away from oversized freight.  I can never swallow myself whole; why would I keep trying to imbibe giants like desire?

Tumble your heart like a stone then warm it.

*

Prize Catch

There is a reason that fish flap and twist

when they are caught,

why even though they are in the air

they fight for the life that once was theirs

Only martyrs go without a fight,

it is good to know that at least this vice is not mine.

When I did not love my life its loss was not an actual change,

there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to struggle for.

Now I thrash at the feel of my loved life slipping from me.

It is good to know I have passion enough to rally a defense.

My life can be taken from me, but I haven’t lost my will to fight.