Symptomatic Bouquet

July 21

SYMPTOMATIC BOUQUET

My bouquet of symptoms took root in alcoholism.  I displayed these blossoms to few.  I thought I could keep these problem posies to myself.  No need to worry, everyone has a bit of manure in their lives; mine will hardly seem strange.  Planted in addiction, things grew in a dramatic way.  Pruning became unworkable; drastic measures were required.  Uprooted and exposed, these virulent stalks created the need for help from better gardeners than I.  Thinned and repotted, these character traits have fruited with many a lovely harvest, none of which could have happened had I been left in the family plot.

Make your mind a womb you can return to.

*

Rules

There are rules about breaking rules.

You can do it this way, but must not that way.

Cross this line and you get dragons;

cross that line you get a good natured slap on the wrist.

Beneath the reflective surface of law

I have found many shoals and sandbars;

rocks and outcroppings,

layer upon layer of blue depth I can only partly chart.

I also find inquiries in this matter meet with the

same reaction as asking about: yeti, crop circles,

or what was kept in Uncle Author’s spare room.

Those willing to talk about it I often fear to hear from

and the reluctant to speak I fear to pursue.

You see this investigation is just another thing

from under that sea.

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

Entree Entree

December 28

Entrée Entrée

I am not one to order an appetizer, I prefer the main meal.  Even if I carry the majority of the entrée home I like to have it all there before me.  Knowing there is enough, might I want it, means peace of mind and I can relax and eat what I wish.  That’s how much I fear.  Fear opening my mouth to ask for more.  Fear not anticipating my actual appetite.  Fear of having nothing to show for my evening out.  What could it all be like had I felt free of rules and public policy that must be carried out in private?  I might never know, but what I do know is that I need to overcome this.  Not because of starving children near or far, not to eliminate the science experiments of mold growth and wilted lettuce in my frig, but in order that I have a chance to have my desert and eat it too and leave the rest unordered.

Lubricate the places where you get stuck

*

Burying the Impossible Dream

I didn’t waken it and twist it in a shroud

I propped it in a corner and attempted to play house.

I didn’t face the truth and love the loss that goes along

I clung tighter than tight and buried my face in the back of its shirt.

I didn’t stand and look in the mirror

I stared into space and played the film strips of futurity.

I didn’t breathe in and out keeping my heart aloft

I held it all with empty lungs and pallid pulseless bosom

I didn’t do the things I could not do

I did the things I had to do

I didn’t think I could ever let it go

I know now that I must

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

Rules

July 21

Rules

There are rules about breaking rules.  You can do it this way, but must not that way.  Cross this line and you get dragons; cross that line you get a good natured slap on the wrist.  Beneath the reflective surface of law I have found many shoals and sandbars; rocks and outcroppings, layer upon layer of blue depth I can only partly chart.  I also find inquiries in this matter meet with the same reaction as asking about: yeti, crop circles, or what was kept in Uncle Author’s spare room.  Those willing to talk about it I often fear to hear from and the reluctant to speak I fear to pursue.  You see this investigation is just another thing from under that sea.

Look before you listen

*

MY BABIES

Too often I have abandoned the infants

Of my creativity to doorways and charities

Having little patience I did not raise them

To their intended station.

Joyful parentage need not stop

At the cutting of the cord.

Down playing the importance of each birth

I leave beauty and art to be foundlings

And the province of others.

I can share the guardianship of these precious gifts

And be more than a broodmare for cunning and craft.

I have neglected things

For the promise of each new conception.

Overpopulation weakens the body of work

And leaves my portfolio listless and immature.

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

Give me a Goose Any Day

April 4

Give Me a Goose Any Day

The geese breaking wind resistance, the close ones, the far ones, the ones behind trumpeting, this is the gang who gets me sober and keeps me that way.  Maybe you think that G-d is not a flock of geese, but it has been my experience and the honking and the mess are part of it all.  I spend my days making sure I am one of them.   Sometimes I am even in the lead, which may seem like a place of honor and prestige, but is actually a lot of hard work.  Sometime I am the cheering squawker who makes my encouragement heard.  Other times I am the one waddling around leaving an untidiness behind me.  All of this just makes me part of the flock.  I am especially fond of my nest mates though they are often the ones I chase and bluster at the most.  I feel a sense of identity and pride when I see any goose flying high and know that because we don’t do it alone we are able to do it together.

Pet inspiration

*

FINE PRINT

I can scrawl the wall with everything I know
I can fill my books chapter and verse
With pure and honest hope
But let me begin the precision of language and watch.

My once open face becomes tight
My associations peek regularly around each corner
Neatly painted lines are a trap with teeth laid bare

Serrations of careful craft sever my umbilical
And God floats off untethered
Truth returns when I am shouting my prayers
Scrupulous observance never advances my sails

I must meet life with an open hand
The devil may not always be in the details
But check the fine print to be sure.

Rules

July 21

Rules

There are rules about breaking rules. You can do it this way, but must not that way. Cross this line and you get dragons; cross that line you get a good natured slap on the wrist. Beneath the reflective surface of law I have found many shoals and sandbars; rocks and outcroppings, layer upon layer of blue depth I can only partly chart. I also find inquiries in this matter meet with the same reaction as asking about: yeti, crop circles, or what was kept in Uncle Author’s spare room. Those willing to talk about it I often fear to hear from and the reluctant to speak I fear to pursue. You see this investigation is just another thing from under that sea.

Look before you listen

*

MY BABIES

Too often I have abandoned the infants

Of my creativity to doorways and charities

Having little patience I did not raise them

To their intended station.

Joyful parentage need not stop

At the cutting of the cord.

Down playing the importance of each birth

I leave beauty and art to be foundlings

And the province of others.

I can share the guardianship of these precious gifts

And be more than a broodmare for cunning and craft.

I have neglected things

For the promise of each new conception.

Overpopulation weakens the body of work

And leaves my portfolio listless and immature.

Rules

July 21

Rules

There are rules about breaking rules. You can do it this way, but must not that way. Cross this line and you get dragons; cross that line you get a good natured slap on the wrist. Beneath the reflective surface of law I have found many shoals and sandbars; rocks and outcroppings, layer upon layer of blue depth I can only partly chart. I also find inquiries in this matter meet with the same reaction as asking about: yeti, crop circles, or what was kept in Uncle Author’s spare room. Those willing to talk about it I often fear to hear from and the reluctant to speak I fear to pursue. You see this investigation is just another thing from under that sea.

Look before you listen

*

MY BABIES

Too often I have abandoned the infants

Of my creativity to doorways and charities

Having little patience I did not raise them

To their intended station.

Joyful parentage need not stop

At the cutting of the cord.

Down playing the importance of each birth

I leave beauty and art to be foundlings

And the province of others.

I can share the guardianship of these precious gifts

And be more than a broodmare for cunning and craft.

I have neglected things

For the promise of each new conception.

Overpopulation weakens the body of work

And leaves my portfolio listless and immature.