Bratzlav

May 15

BRATZLAV

If all the world is a narrow bridge, I must broaden my mind.  If all the doors close to the passage of a hallway, I must exit through the window.  Never again can I stay and shelter in a small and confining refuge.  A womb is a place to come out of; it is never a place of return.  I am not to seek over- exposure but I must ever widen the gate.  The brave face I show is the gift of a tight world owning me for far too long.  Fear is never meant to be larger than life and the world should never collapse around the sweetness of a smile.  Today carries us.  Tomorrow draws us.  The world is a bridge.

Carpet the memories that echo shame in your mind.

*

Underoos

Why is it that I store undies I never wear

in my panty drawer and leave no room for my favorites?

Why is it that I have things in cupboards

that have not seen the light of day in years,

but they are kept as sacred?

I don’t use my storage for me

it is saved for obligation to inherited obsession.

I live on the fringes of the only life I have;

I didn’t question this.

didn’t see it for what it really is.

I don’t live in my skin only my head.

I don’t enjoy today only plan for tomorrow.

After years at this address it is time for me to move in.

The mortgage is more than paid;

it is time to spend my inheritance.

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

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.