Showing posts with label old goldfish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old goldfish. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Dion

January 7


Dion


Everything in the world happened before I was born and the cinders sift through my fingers.  Accomplishing cohesion of the ashes is a goal I have not yet achieved.  Cremains precious but meager are a difficult building material, shifting due to emotions and wind, I find they stick too well to my lungs and not well enough to anything else.  Tears help, but I will not cry forever.  I must draw from a fresh water source and wet the powdery scratch I have inherited and form the world anew.


Use caution when interacting with the crème de la crème this may trigger intolerance



*


OLD GOLDFISH

I got them when my sobriety was new.
They were tiny little guys, ten cent feeders.
I wanted my stepson to sleep soundly
In our strange jumble of a home, fresh from purchase.

The tank sat on a dresser under his elevated bed
Space to fit my hand to feed them
No space for baby boy to climb in
I loved my goldfish.

There is never a NO with goldfish
Feed them as often as you want
Let the water get cold
Put them in a big space, small place, plants, no plants.

NO was so hard, I hate and fear No.
I am hard, fish are easy.
Tears and mesmerizing aquarium
Meetings and steps.

I could not keep myself alive
I don't know how I kept the fish fed.
The program kept me going,
Kept hope flowing and the fish swam.

In this century when we are finally outliving wild goldfish
We are sober together,
By the grace of a Higher Power, in this century.
It's been a wonderful time.

I am grateful to be here with the goldfish.
I am grateful the goldfish are here for me.
Expecting so little
Maybe I could return the favor


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

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Old Goldfish

January 8


OLD GOLDFISH

I got them when my sobriety was new.  They were tiny little guys, ten-cent feeders.  I wanted my stepson to sleep soundly in our strange jumble of a home, fresh from purchase.  The tank sat on a dresser under his elevated bed, space to fit my hand to feed them, no space for baby boy to climb in.  I loved my goldfish.  There is never a no with gold fish; feed them as often as you want; let the water get cold.  Put them in a big space, a small space, plants, no plants.  No was so hard.  I hate and fear no.  I am hard, fish are easy.
Tears and mesmerizing aquarium.  Meetings and steps.  I could not keep myself alive. I don’t know how I kept the fish fed.  The program kept me going, kept hope flowing, and the fish swam.  In this century, when we finally are outliving wild goldfish, we are sober together by the grace of our Higher Power.  It’s been a wonderful time.  I am grateful to be here with the goldfish.  I am grateful the goldfish are here for me, expecting so little.  Maybe I could return the favor.
“I’m grateful you appreciate the fish,” says my sponsor.


Find a bell to ring
*

Lathe

Turning into a spin,
the edge cuts into my misconceptions,
the point sharp and accurate to a fault
digs into the excess I carry around,
keeping me from my useful purpose.

A good eye and steady hand
are needed lest breakthrough ruin me.
Not that all is ever lost
for a spoon with a hole
in the bowl will stir a soup smooth.

Relinquishing my burdens and trusting the carver’s tools and methods
takes great commitment.
I am carved commitment or no,
but things turn out better when I don’t flinch.




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

Monday, January 7, 2013

Dion



January 7


Dion


Everything in the world happened before I was born and the cinders sift through my fingers.  Accomplishing cohesion of the ashes is a goal I have not yet achieved.  Cremains precious but meager are a difficult building material, shifting due to emotions and wind, I find they stick too well to my lungs and not well enough to anything else.  Tears help, but I will not cry forever.  I must draw from a fresh water source and wet the powdery scratch I have inherited and form the world anew.


Use caution when interacting with the crème de la crème this may trigger intolerance



*


OLD GOLDFISH

I got them when my sobriety was new.
They were tiny little guys, ten cent feeders.
I wanted my stepson to sleep soundly
In our strange jumble of a home, fresh from purchase.

The tank sat on a dresser under his elevated bed
Space to fit my hand to feed them
No space for baby boy to climb in
I loved my goldfish.

There is never a NO with goldfish
Feed them as often as you want
Let the water get cold
Put them in a big space, small place, plants, no plants.

NO was so hard, I hate and fear No.
I am hard, fish are easy.
Tears and mesmerizing aquarium
Meetings and steps.

I could not keep myself alive
I don't know how I kept the fish fed.
The program kept me going,
Kept hope flowing and the fish swam.

In this century when we are finally outliving wild goldfish
We are sober together,
By the grace of Higher Power, in this century.
It's been a wonderful time.

I am grateful to be here with the goldfish.
I am grateful the goldfish are here for me.
Expecting so little
Maybe I could return the favor

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Old Goldfish

January 8

OLD GOLDFISH

I got them when my sobriety was new. They were tiny little guys, ten-cent feeders. I wanted my stepson to sleep soundly in our strange jumble of a home, fresh from purchase. The tank sat on a dresser under his elevated bed, space to fit my hand to feed them, no space for baby boy to climb in. I loved my goldfish. There is never a no with gold fish; feed them as often as you want; let the water get cold. Put them in a big space, a small space, plants, no plants. No was so hard. I hate and fear no. I am hard, fish are easy.

Tears and mesmerizing aquarium. Meetings and steps. I could not keep myself alive. I don’t know how I kept the fish fed. The program kept me going, kept hope flowing, and the fish swam. In this century, when we finally are outliving wild goldfish, we are sober together by the grace of our Higher Power. It’s been a wonderful time. I am grateful to be here with the goldfish. I am grateful the goldfish are here for me, expecting so little. Maybe I could return the favor.

“I’m grateful you appreciate the fish,” says my sponsor.

Find a bell to ring

*

Lathe

Turning into a spin,

the edge cuts into my misconceptions,

the point sharp and accurate to a fault

digs into the excess I carry around,

keeping me from my useful purpose.

A good eye and steady hand

are needed lest breakthrough ruin me.

Not that all is ever lost

for a spoon with a hole

in the bowl will stir a soup smooth.

Relinquishing my burdens and trusting the carver’s tools and methods

takes great commitment.

I am carved commitment or no,

but things turn out better when I don’t flinch.