Harvest Timing

September 9

HARVEST TIMING

The harvest fits in the growing season and the oak fits inside the acorn.  My sober mind fits right in my sober time.  The soul of everything rubs across the hind leg of a cricket to sing.  The infinite machinery of the universe spins but you stand there questioning the existence of a Higher Power.  Well, that’s who you are, but I have only one question for you.  Who else could have made all the best tomatoes come from Jersey?

Catch rain on your face.

*

Barnum, Bailey & Me

When I wake to find a whip and a chair by the side of my bed

I know I am in for a circus of a day

and the tears of this clown will not change a thing.

I ready myself for the tightrope walk

and watch out for stray elephants.

All the trained poodles in the world

can’t make this into a day in the park.

Painted ponies prance through their paces;

I try to stick to my own act,

meanwhile remembering that no matter how difficult

these routines may be it still beats a seat in the stands.

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

Crazy Time

December 19

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.

Admire your friends

*

THE FIRST FATHER

The rest of what I have to say
I will slip under your gravestone.
If I have time after I buy the red dress.

To say I hate you is an overstatement.
I only detest what I know of you
The rest I leave to other people
Who might have the misfortune to cross your path.

Your unavailability can protect you
From anything I could ever do to you.
Your hurt and arrogance is far worse punishment.
If I thought you were worth the energy of an attempt.

Having to be you every day must make it hard
To leave the bed in the morning.
I know I couldn’t do it if I had to
Drag your baggage around all day.

The sad part is I’m not sure you know it’s baggage.
You might think it’s armor
But your misnaming of everything
Is just another of the things I never miss about you.

Which is why although I pray every day
For your wellbeing for the sake of mine
If I never see you again
It might just be long enough.

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

How I've come upon the World

November 28

How I’ve come upon the World.

My first exposure to Bogart was as the man who was after Bugs Bunny, and Lauren Bacall was only referred to as Baby.  I only ever heard Kaw Liga because Stephen King referenced it too often and I had to go have a listen.  I come through the back door on so much of the world and it has served me rather well.  Yes, I often feel ignorant, but at least the knowledge never sees me coming and I get the drop on it.  There is a quality to not having been spoon-fed, that keeps me sharp and allows for depth.  The universe sends me clues and I go investigate.  It cuts down on the agendaed learning of the social norms and cuts me a wide swath beyond the common path.  There are times when conformity is key; then again it’s a sweet thing to have a choice.

Level inequity

*

TAPERS

I wax poetic and burn the candle at both ends.
I borrow from the beginning, I steal from the end
And come up short; feeling deeply cheated.

I pass myself off as the time-keeper but am the time-pleaser
Arch-traitor selling short the days and hours
For approval not fulfillment.

I put away my true identity, mammal, human, the love of.
I have exchanged it for the mask and cape of the Do-do-doer.
A tragic figure of myth and legend who breaks the spirit
Of everyone who attempts the portrayal.

In spite of this the roads teem with actors
Becoming caricatures of a life less lived.
The world is more than a stage
And I must free powers greater than to be more than an audience.

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

Alconaut

December  25

ALCONAUT

Want to learn it fast but not deep?  Just go to meetings and listen with half an ear.  Call your sponsor only for her birthday and anniversary and tell her about all the things you are not doing anymore but none of the things you are.  Skim the books for good quotes that sound impressive when they pass your lips but whose meaning has no chance of passing your heart.  Find playmates and cliques, not a home group, and surely not a service commitment.  Things fall out of orbit when they run out of juice and you will too.  This program is not an air lock on the way to worlds unknown; it is a way to live in the world you know.  There is no question that you have the right stuff.  The question is, do you want what we have?

Hug your feelings, pat their heads, then let them go.

*

Einstein’s Apple

Time is a player in every play,

forever running forward

even as I try to claw my way into the past.

If I don’t provide a role,

time writes itself in

without regard for my intended plotline.

Like the weather,

time is by turns gentle and fierce.

I must pay attention lest I run afoul of it

and lose my life and limb.

Though time is an arc I see swinging in my mind

it is still the arrow shot

and I am simply the fool with the apple.

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.

Crazy Time

December 19

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.

Admire your friends

*

THE FIRST FATHER

The rest of what I have to say
I will slip under your gravestone.
If I have time after I buy the red dress.

To say I hate you is an overstatement.
I only detest what I know of you
The rest I leave to other people
Who might have the misfortune to cross your path.

Your unavailability can protect you
From anything I could ever do to you.
Your hurt and arrogance is far worse punishment.
If I thought you were worth the energy of an attempt.

Having to be you everyday must make it hard
To leave the bed in the morning.
I know I couldn’t do it if I had to
Drag your baggage around all day.

The sad part is I’m not sure you know it’s baggage.
You might think it’s armor
But your misnaming of everything
Is just another of the things I never miss about you.

Which is why although I pray every day
For your wellbeing for the sake of mine
If I never see you again
It might just be long enough.