Crazy Time

December 19

Crazy Time

Picking the right time to be crazy seems to be the key to getting away with it.  Wanting to get away with it slants the field a tad.  What crazy is changes from place to place, which puts all the more emphasis on the timing.  The surrounding company and barometric pressure play parts and put on airs.  Lighting, lighting must also be involved, I assure you I don’t know how and can’t calculate the Ohms, but I flip the switches in case it helps.  I have mapped for you a fair amount more than I know.  I wish you well on your attempt, for crazy is a kindred club, I would hate for you to feel inept.

Admire your friends

*

THE FIRST FATHER

The rest of what I have to say
I will slip under your gravestone.
If I have time after I buy the red dress.

To say I hate you is an overstatement.
I only detest what I know of you
The rest I leave to other people
Who might have the misfortune to cross your path.

Your unavailability can protect you
From anything I could ever do to you.
Your hurt and arrogance is far worse punishment.
If I thought you were worth the energy of an attempt.

Having to be you every day must make it hard
To leave the bed in the morning.
I know I couldn’t do it if I had to
Drag your baggage around all day.

The sad part is I’m not sure you know it’s baggage.
You might think it’s armor
But your misnaming of everything
Is just another of the things I never miss about you.

Which is why although I pray every day
For your wellbeing for the sake of mine
If I never see you again
It might just be long enough.

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

Coocoo's Nest

December 20

COOCOO’S NEST

I ran away to join the zoo hoping a life contained would calm me.  The segregation hit me first; isolated exclusively with those of my stripe drove my thirst for diverse scents and opinion.  Next, the monotony of the landscape bore into my brain.  The well-meaning effort of the keepers bears the mark of folks who go home at night.  The blandness of the food and music lent nothing to the experience, and antiseptic could drive anyone wild.  The final blow, the one that struck constantly and coldly, was the stream of observers waiting to be entertained.

Embrace plain tools and fine minds.

*

Home Fires Burning

I have trouble living with myself,

that is why I live with you.

It takes my mind off the things I don’t wish to face.

What I can busy myself within your service

lightens the load of expectation heaped in my DNA

by my Higher Power and Fate.

Worry is time consuming

and I wile away hours fretting over you

and all your unresolved trifles

while turning my back entirely on my life.

I couldn’t be happier to have you,

though from the corner of my eye

I glimpse God packing your bags.

Down the Upside

November 16

DOWN THE UPSIDE

On the downside of a rising star there is too much fear.  Anticipation is recommended for ascent, delight should be encouraged, but all out alarm is usually sounded whether it is needed or not.  Panic dims the shining pleasure of mounting the sky.  Refuting celestial status, denying astral projection, I renounce myself.  Attaining height, my position in space is apparent to bystanders and onlookers.  I need to ride the comet and accept fate, my nemesis.  Fortune shines on me, I should not squint away kismet.

Expand your spiritual muscle.

*

Who is the Parent?

There are more liars in my head than anywhere else

and they will say the most errant nonsense,

making it sound totally convincing.

First of all they use other people’s inventories

to leverage me into believing

that I am just what is needed

to lift each person’s  universe from despair;

Then they insist that my life will be incomplete

until I have saved nations and secured borders,

all the while failing to mention

the deadly nature of these attempts.

None of this is a problem unless I listen.

Liars’ lying causes me no trouble

until I accept and act on this bunk.

This is where a thorough inventory saves the day.

When I am clear about the truth of who and what I am

I can’t be easily led astray.

I know I am God’s child and the resemblance can be strong,

but today that burden is not mine to carry,

so I can stay busy being me.

Promise Broken

September 2

PROMISE BROKEN

If promise shatters without anyone touching it, if it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost its cohesion, what do I do?  Name names?  I can’t even take fingerprints.  Sometimes dreams just end.  No fault or blame is attached.  The ice breaks under its own weight and nothing can be done.  I am more than just holding on.  I am alive even if all the promises melt away.  I can accept the unexpected and the unasked for and still know this doesn’t affect my worth.  My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.  I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement; promises are pleasantries. I am made of stronger stuff. I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.  Promise can be broken but it doesn’t break me.

Open the mental crayon box.

*

Where’s Your Chair?

Is the ring more unnatural for the tamer or the lion?

One the trapped, the other the trapper.

Who is the more in danger;

the one with loss of freedom

or the one with possible loss of life?

And while this question is still in play

the next question is begged.  Why is there a ring?

What is worth the price paid

by the whip holder or the whipped?

Spectacle is a thing whose cost

reaches from the forest to the trees;

can take you from the highest rung

down to your knees.

All this lost for some Owwe’s and Ah’s

from people needing diversion

from the ring they turn tricks in.

The One I Bought

June 6

THE ONE I BOUGHT

There are fairy tales I never gave credence to.  Multiple bear stories don’t move me.  Cats with footwear have not warranted a second thought.  True love-----now that one I still buy hook, line and sinker.  Work hard and true love will fix the rest; that is what I have always believed.  The evil spell I have walked under during my sad little life will be broken only by the durable and all-fulfilling love of my betrothed.  Each time this plan fell through, the blame was leveled at the wrongness of the match but not the wrongness of the plot.  Anytime I work to be restored to sanity by one person, I have displaced a rightful power and thrown myself to the sea.

Let a whisker width of optimism carry your day.

*

Enclosed Space

In the echo chamber it is the cymbals

which cause the most pain.

The drums resound, deep and loud,

but it is the crashing of brass that drives me wild.

Cotton, wool and sealing wax

cannot put my head at ease.

Resonate walls with their hollow effects

create the feedback loops of hurt.

Like the endless reflection of parallel mirrors

the sounds come back to me with relentless repetition.

Aural illusion might have been the idea,

but chaos is the result.

Leaving the space between these ears

will be, will allow, the band to play on

without the benefit of my torment.

No Reason

September 5

No Reason

Reason falls through, where it lands is a place of unknown seascape and unrelenting tides. The roar in my ears furthers the disorienting effect of relocation. At first it seems easier to let go of reason but when I descend into madness I scramble for purchase; looking for sanity like a cleft in a cliff. Loss of skin and blood is nothing to compare to the loss of my mind. I believe I could be more easily separated from a limb or two than to lose rein on my brain. Reason falls through; I must follow even though the terrain is arduous and my heart is sometimes faint, for without reason there is no reason and without reason there is no life.

Write songs to the dead, sing them to the living

*

HATCHLING

When the shell gets too tight

It’s time to hatch.

I can’t tell you it’s safe out there

Just that it’s time to go.

The leaving is not easy.

Exodus fulfilled by the use of one small tooth

This experience may or may not prepare you

For the rest of your life.

So much still depends on predestination

And your attitude.

I mean are you a chicken or a hawk?

A peacock or a dove?

Or is there something of which I am unaware.

Did someone sit on your nest

Or cover it with sand?

Are you a turtle, lizard or snake?

See so much is out of your hands

But still your actions are your choice.