Shimmer

July 9

SHIMMER

The water ruffles over metallic sheen, lap after lap screen the view, and still the gilt reflection shines in my eyes.  Hypnotic, the undulance pulls me near.  I stand on the edge, gaze, then gawk; I follow the underwater movements and iridescent tremolo.  I forget place and time. I lose sight of the facts.  Gold isn’t the only thing that shimmers. Sometimes that glint is just a fish.  Life is full of fins and fantasy.  My sponsor suggests I stop looking for my life in a wishing well.

Think of all beans as magical in some way.

*

Special

Is it the wiring between my ears,

the size of the pump in my chest?

The difference which can be seen

when you look from me to the neighbors?

I know that you feel me to be special.

I feel me to be special, too,

just like you.

Defining that thing, that combination

which unlocks the mundane

is more than just an attempt to point a finger,

it’s a search for that little light.

Close and closer we pull together

and that is special but now I will whisper it,

tell you the secret truth is my ability to play.

Come play with me!

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

Special

July 10

Special

Is it the wiring between my ears, the size of the pump in my chest?  The difference which can be seen when you look from me to the neighbors? I know that you feel me to be special.  I feel me to be special, too, just like you.  Defining that thing, that combination which unlocks the mundane is more than just an attempt to point a finger; it’s a search for that little light.  Close and closer we pull together and that is special, but now I will whisper it, tell you the secret truth is my ability to play.  Come play with me!

Whistle with the tune the wind brings you

*

IT’S MY PARTY

The party I was throwing myself in addiction

Was nothing but a very long wake.

There were no smiles, only murmurs of what might have been.

I was filled with tears I couldn’t cry

And mourned my death as I caused it.

When I took off my little black dress

And stepped from this shroud

I closed the bar, clicked the switch and the dirge stopped.

The funeral ended prematurely

I walked into AA where I learned to be the life of the party.

Hatchling

September 17

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 dove?  Or is there something of which I am unaware?  Did someone sit on your nest or was it covered in sand?  Are you turtle, lizard or snake?  See, so much is out of your hands, but still your actions are your choice.

Touch your books and pet them.

*

Ovoid

I can pretend at this normal life for a period of time

then the plaster starts to crack on this white picket fence

and it’s all down hill from there.

I am better than I was;

I am happier and more well adjusted,

yet I am still far from fitting with the standard fittings,

I am an off size, my threads run counter to the average fixture,

I spent too much time on the rack

to resemble anything from off the rack.

It’s not that I am so special;

it is just that I am Special Ed.

Performance anxiety and paranoia regularly take me out of round

though even with these kept at bay I am not your normal nut.

I assure you that you can dress me up and take me out,

just don’t try to take me home.