Showing posts with label idiots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label idiots. Show all posts

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Heat Exchage

June 29



HEAT EXCHANGE



I stand in the shower and let the water run.  The water carries away my temperature in exchange for its own.  I leave the enclosure restored.  Mentally, a meeting does this for me.  I change hot topics for more moderate positions, cold indifference for warm regard.  Stepping into a group of my fellows carts off my excess ego and flushes my pride.  Isolation is taken and camaraderie left in its place.  I am always changed by standing amid the rush of sober minds and faithful service.  Balance comes from proximity and willingness.  Everything is reduced to letting myself get wet.


Measure your growth on a doorpost.

*
Exercising Futility


Asking the confused for explanation
is like asking a blind man the color of the sea.
It isn’t that he couldn’t tell you,
but how could you be sure?

To exercise futility is more than just a game
or the words to a song
your mother sings when lost or far away.

To take the fish out of water
and train it on a bike is meaner than I need to be,
but isn’t it my right?

Just to do things because they can be done
or try them because they can’t
is more the worse for everyday a tragedy in pants.

Puzzle out the little things and practice when you can,
for putting on the frazzled mind
is cruel to the poor sweet-hearted sot.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Basket Ball

October 26


Basket Ball

Idiots out number poets, this is a fact, though I do wonder why.  It cannot be an easy lot spending your days in slow witted discharge; I would think they might at least try putting pen to paper.  I think I would rather live in a world filled with bad poets rather than drifting on this ship of fools, but the troubadours rise with imbeciles as their cover and poems fall from favor.  I wonder how I could make verse a contagion, how could I make it spread?  You may laugh at me, but think what some guy did with a broken peach basket and a rubber ball.


Check your gait for swing

*

STRONG WORDS

Serious language, deep language, real language
Helps me by grounding me.
I don’t have to be nice for company
When I can just tell the truth.

I needn’t have guests with virgin ears
Or unrealistic expectations,
I no longer pander to such foolishness.
I know the layered meaning of my words.

I value the intensity of a large vocabulary.
I am not intimidated by prudish co-conspirators
Who stare down pointed noses
At powerful utterances.

Weak words make poor boundaries
And breed victims.
I will not be trapped by niceties
I will speak clearly out of necessity.


You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Basket Ball

October 26

Basket Ball

Idiots out number poets, this is a fact, though I do wonder why. It cannot be an easy lot spending your days in slow witted discharge; I would think they might at least try putting pen to paper. I think I would rather live in a world filled with bad poets rather than drifting on this ship of fools, but the troubadours rise with imbeciles as their cover and poems fall from favor. I wonder how I could make verse a contagion, how could I make it spread? You may laugh at me, but think what some guy did with a broken peach basket and a rubber ball.

Check your gait for swing

*

STRONG WORDS

Serious language, deep language, real language
Helps me by grounding me.
I don’t have to be nice for company
When I can just tell the truth.

I needn’t have guests with virgin ears
Or unrealistic expectations,
I no longer pander to such foolishness.
I know the layered meaning of my words.

I value the intensity of a large vocabulary.
I am not intimidated by prudish co-conspirators
Who stare down pointed noses
At powerful utterances.

Weak words make poor boundaries
And breed victims.
I will not be trapped by niceties
I will speak clearly out of necessity.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Basket Ball

October 26

Basket Ball

Idiots out number poets, this is a fact, though I do wonder why. It cannot be an easy lot spending your days in slow witted discharge; I would think they might at least try putting pen to paper. I think I would rather live in a world filled with bad poets rather than drifting on this ship of fools, but the troubadours rise with imbeciles as their cover and poems fall from favor. I wonder how I could make verse a contagion, how could I make it spread? You may laugh at me, but think what some guy did with a broken peach basket and a rubber ball.

Check your gait for swing

*

STRONG WORDS

Serious language, deep language, real language
Helps me by grounding me.
I don’t have to be nice for company
When I can just tell the truth.

I needn’t have guests with virgin ears
Or unrealistic expectations,
I no longer pander to such foolishness.
I know the layered meaning of my words.

I value the intensity of a large vocabulary.
I am not intimidated by prudish co-conspirators
Who stare down pointed noses
At powerful utterances.

Weak words make poor boundaries
And breed victims.
I will not be trapped by niceties
I will speak clearly out of necessity.