Migration

March 7

Migration

Why does an alcoholic leave the drink behind?  To go where it’s warm, because drunkenness has become cold comfort, because the climate has changed.  The wind resists the flight from the bottle and the initiative to break the flow is rotated among the flock.  Though each member of the band plays their part, the one diverting the air just ahead of me and the one just behind trumpeting still hold the majority of my attention.  Flocking is my primary purpose because survival is the intention of life, demise the intent of my illness.  One more sober day is all I can ask, it’s all I ever need, it’s all that’s ever offered.

Put wheels under procrastination

*

POPCORN FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

I can't know it, I can't believe it,
The world of popcorn flavored lollipops
Is now being visited upon me.

Both a surprise and a comfort,
A popcorn flavored lollipop
Given to me by a gas station attendant.

A blast of sugar and salt wake my tongue.
What can a mind do
In the face of buttered-salted bonbon on a stick?

I wouldn't have thought of it, no in a million years.
This is somehow a source of hope to me,
There are open minded people living in the world around me.

I often pray for creative thinking on the part of my Higher Power
I inadvertently dismiss the populace
Who are producing prodigies of ingenious originality and cunning.

I want the world to be gifted with what sobriety has given me.
Candy is not world peace
But many great things start with a little sweetness

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

You are allowed to close windows or keep them open

March 8

YOU ARE ALLOWED TO CLOSE WINDOWS OR KEEP THEM OPEN

Not every open window offers a warm and welcome breeze.  There are windows, which greet with artic blast and little else.  Frosted cheeks and chapped lips, I face these frigid openings believing it is my lot to forge ahead in this bluster.  Never did I think to shut the glass on this disagreeable weather.  I am allowed to close windows but I didn’t know it.  Every irksome thing that comes my way is not mine to face; many things will pass my way.  This does not make them my responsibility.  On the other hand, when spring blows honeysuckle through the air, it is a fine idea to prop the window open with a stick.

Wave gently good-bye to yesterday.

*

Migration

Why does an alcoholic leave the drink behind?

To go where it’s warm,

because drunkenness has become cold comfort,

because the climate has changed.

The wind resists the flight from the bottle

and the initiative to break the flow

is rotated among the flock.

Though each member of the band plays their part,

the one diverting the air just ahead of me

and the one just behind trumpeting

still hold the majority of my attention.

Flocking is my primary purpose

because survival is the intention of life,

demise the intent of my illness.

One more sober day is all I can ask,

it’s all I ever need,

it’s all that’s ever offered.

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

Go Where it's Warm

August 17

Go where it’s warm

The intangible rightness of cohesion is difficult to explain.  What is it that makes a group congregating into a congregation?  What makes a rag tag tousle into a home group?  It is the thing I yearn for, but dare not chase.  I know this too makes a grub into a butterfly, yet private transformation seems necessary, where the change of masses is gratuitous.  A thousand geese fly overhead; arrows of individual miracles, pointing the way to the meaning of it all.

Score your rhythm so you can reflect the music of your soul

*

THE DREAMER

What about the dreamer?

What about her, responds my sponsor.

You ask me about her like I was the one

Who pushed her off the cliff.

Are you saying I pushed her,

I questioned my sponsor.

Yes, that is just what I am saying.

Do you need me to sing it?

You wanted the dreamer to fly off,

To safety and happiness

And wanted her to take you with her.

In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles

And propel her to heaven

You threw her off the precipice.

Now she is broken and bleeding

Far from your sight

Your dreamer is damaged

And you ask about her?

Do you want to know what you did

And how to remedy it

Or were you looking to duck responsibility?

QUACK------

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

Migration

March 7

Migration

Why does an alcoholic leave the drink behind?  To go where it’s warm, because drunkenness has become cold comfort, because the climate has changed.  The wind resists the flight from the bottle and the initiative to break the flow is rotated among the flock.  Though each member of the band plays their part, the one diverting the air just ahead of me and the one just behind trumpeting still hold the majority of my attention.  Flocking is my primary purpose because survival is the intention of life, demise the intent of my illness.  One more sober day is all I can ask, it’s all I ever need, it’s all that’s ever offered.

Put wheels under procrastination

*

POPCORN FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

I can't know it, I can't believe it,
The world of popcorn flavored lollipops
Is now being visited upon me.

Both a surprise and a comfort,
A popcorn flavored lollipop
Given to me by a gas station attendant.

A blast of sugar and salt wake my tongue.
What can a mind do
In the face of buttered-salted bonbon on a stick?

I wouldn't have thought of it, no in a million years.
This is somehow a source of hope to me,
There are open minded people living in the world around me.

I often pray for creative thinking on the part of my Higher Power
I inadvertently dismiss the populace
Who are producing prodigies of ingenious originality and cunning.

I want the world to be gifted with what sobriety has given me.
Candy is not world peace
But many great things start with a little sweetness

Goose

December 15

GOOSE

I round this corner nearly every day.  There in the field stands a flock of problems pecking the ground and flapping their wings.  Uniform and regular, the honking and squawking is undistinguishable from yesterday.  I ponder and squint; are these the same or yet another gaggle making their way along a migratory path?  Trouble is feral, skulking the edges of the field but never sheltering in the yard.  I must leave my hands off, knowing these are not mine.  The feathers fly and I gather the strays acutely aware of the ticklish nature of this.  Awkwardly I face the truth, no matter how much of a perplexity this is to me or to others, it is only geese.

Run because you want to and the starter’s whistle won’t bother you.

*

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.

Migration

March 7

Migration

Why does an alcoholic leave the drink behind? To go where it’s warm, because drunkenness has become cold comfort, because the climate has changed. The wind resists the flight from the bottle and the initiative to break the flow is rotated among the flock. Though each member of the band plays their part, the one diverting the air just ahead of me and the one just behind trumpeting still hold the majority of my attention. Flocking is my primary purpose because survival is the intention of life, demise the intent of my illness. One more sober day is all I can ask, it’s all I ever need, it’s all that’s ever offered.

Put wheels under procrastination

*

POPCORN FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

I can't know it, I can't believe it,
The world of popcorn flavored lollipops
Is now being visited upon me.

Both a surprise and a comfort,
A popcorn flavored lollipop
Given to me by a gas station attendant.

A blast of sugar and salt wake my tongue.
What can a mind do
In the face of buttered-salted bonbon on a stick?

I wouldn't have thought of it, no in a million years.
This is somehow a source of hope to me,
There are open minded people living in the world around me.

I often pray for creative thinking on the part of my Higher Power
I inadvertently dismiss the populace
Who are producing prodigies of ingenious originality and cunning.

I want the world to be gifted with what sobriety has given me.
Candy is not world peace
But many great things start with a little sweetness