Flower Power

December 6

Flower Power

The man with the chrysanthemum on his head walks up and down the aisle.  Do I look like that, I wonder to myself?  Have I taken personal style to the point of caricature?  What is the boundary by which the embarrassment is kept at bay?  Is there a point at which I can overcome who I present myself as, and represent the best of who I can be?  Who I might be if only I can manage not to get carried away by impressionism?  I am given this dwelling and it suits me quite well, when I treat it as a temple and not simply as a shrine.

Do without some things not everything

*

ALMOST TWINS

You and I are more alike than different
Yet we cannot get along
Though I ponder why this surprises me so.

A cloud and a watermelon are 98 % the same
And no one would mistake them in a crowd
Or expect them to be companionable
Except in the way of two things existing in the universe.

My expectation of liking you for our similarities
Is set up by my fear that I don’t like myself
But the joke is on me.

My dislike of you is not a reflection
Of anything but time and space
My friends are the people who like me
Not necessarily the ones who are like me.

The president didn’t like broccoli
Without slurring its good name
And I can dislike you
Without inferring you are a vegetable

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

Creed

March 12

Creed           

We have a long standing family tradition of viewing miracles as tragedy; this custom has afforded us many a fine escape from the unknown.  Most things in life are bad; people, places, things, this belief is protective though useless. Ultimately I feel this belief is not what colors the dynastic impression of the miraculous, but the apprehension is due to the limited nature of the thing.  I come from a line of dissatisfaction; miracles are provided when what is desired is panacea.  If everything is not imperially resolved then it is all for naught because the same psyche which cannot begin a process without a guaranteed outcome can’t pickup the slack after a triumphant start. Give it all to me tied with a bow, I will begin the critique from there though I will accept, offer me a beginning fraught with uncertainty and I will decline. A secure entrenchment is preferred to inexact risk.  I will die with my boots on, but I mustn’t leave the house.

Respect your age

*

FRIENDS

My sweet, dear, funny friend
Steeped in beat
Whose hand I can no longer hold.

I yearn for the wildly flying words, like feathers in a snow
The shock of hair and glinting eyes I see so clearly
In my shivering mind.
I must let go.
I miss all the friends who for reason or no
Have traveled down the yellow brick spiral to who knows where.
My arms feel open and starved
But there is no way for me to retain myself
And follow them.
Some are lost, altogether
Some are lost only to me
But my arms remain empty nonetheless.
My ruined heart is sore and sad
But chasing this friend or that
Will not heal it.
The lonely path before me is the answer for me.
Possibly only for me among our former group
And will the paths cross later in this day or next?
I don't know and am better not knowing.
My path requires me to release outcomes
As well a kindred.
I must travel with my arms open
Some fall out of them
And others find their way in.

Almost Twins

December 19

ALMOST TWINS

You and I are more alike than different yet we cannot get along, though I ponder why this surprises me so.  A cloud and a watermelon are 98% the same and no one would mistake them in a crowd or expect them to be companionable except in the way of two things existing in the universe.  My expectation of liking you for our similarities is set up by my fear that I don’t like myself, but the joke is on me.  My dislike of you is not a reflection of anything but time and space.  My friends are the people who like me, not necessarily the ones who are like me.  The president didn’t like broccoli without slurring its good name and I can dislike you without inferring you’re a vegetable.

Enjoy the approach as well as the work.

*

Scalene

Strangeness is attracting, I don’t try to deny it.

I have looked longingly at oddness

and every skewed thing.

Though I try to divert my gaze the acute angles

draw me back to peer again and again.

Strange attractors have an unexplainable beauty to me.

The wane charisma digs its hooks into my soul

and I carry it off like a burr stuck to my hide.

What does this say of me, I am not sure?

What does it say of the sidelong loves of mine?

Volumes, I think it speaks volumes,

all of it unknown to me.