Rounder

July 16

Rounder

Back again, yes, that I see, but change is not the same as return.  What I know of you is your past.  I believe the past because I know it.  If there is a new you to meet that remains to be seen.  Even a chameleon sheds its skin, though I doubt its intrinsic nature is altered much in the process.  So flash your smile and wind your words into the thoughts of those with whom you have no history.  I’ve been exposed before, the virus doesn’t conquer me, I am immune.  Once bitten makes me wary when you come around again.

Pick a color and let it find you all day

*

TO SLOOP

When I was a tanker- I carried such a heavy load.

The diesel cycle ran at regular intervals

And my internal temperature was terrific.

The fuel sprayed and things went round and round

The cost was high.

Now my principal means of propulsion

Is the wind in my sails.

Conversion was difficult

Though I found the rigging and mast a fascination

The ballast was a heavy load to bear.

Cargo is something short lived

To be cast off at the next port.

Incumbent discretion is welded to my keel

And will go with me to every harbor.

As a tankard, liquid was transported or consumed.

As a cutter, dependability keeps me tacking into the wind.

Now my outlay is low and my rewards are high

I carry only what I need, I am free, a sloop upon the sea.

Sympathetic Strings

July 15

Sympathetic Strings

A guitar with 28 strings generates much sympathy from the cords which were not strummed.  Pluck is contagious and inspires much harmony and verve in the vicinity in which it shows face.  Sympathetic strings vibrate in response to the jangling around them but are tuned to their own notes.  Much distortion adds to the depth of the sound created by this throng.  Can you hear my life?  How a disturbance in my life rings in the lives which surround me?  How I twitch and chime when things are twanged in the lives of my neighbors, my friends, my kin.  We make the music of care, the discord of reaction.  To every move there is a sound to every sympathy a harmony. 

Surprise yourself with the light in your own eyes

*

THE LIVING DREAM

Throwing yourself into the river in pieces

Drowns you as crumbs.

Casting aside love and longing

makes you less in your heart

and your soul stops beating.

Pitching your tent with critics and complainers

Leaves you out in the cold on warm summer evenings.

Crest the hill to meet the rising sun

Orbit the constellations without hesitation.

Petit point the pictures in your mind

Then set them to music.

The world is your dream

Live it into reality.

Wales

July 14

Wales

It is safe for the houses to sleep in the streets, but not for me.  I cannot follow that which is so right and regular for mundane things.  I am a jagged piece and it is hard for me to find my place.

The sun comes though everyone’s windows and peeks around the blinds left down.  I must mind my manners and not be a nuisance or a bother; draw no undue attention to my brightness, carry a basket to hide it in.

And while every river can drown its sorrows in the rush of the downhill sweep to the sea; I must stand here stock cold sober and bear the pain appointed to me.

Curl your fingers into the tangles of life and hang on

*

WAKE

Don’t worry that you might spoil the procession

By getting out of your coffin.

You don’t need to lie there waiting for the lid to close.

People will walk past saying ---so sad---too bad

But don’t lie instate just to keep them from feeling

Their trip was a waste.

Just because the crypt has been purchased

Doesn’t mean you’re ready to go.

There are still opportunities to dance.

Don’t die for love, glory or pride.

Don’t die before your time.

Death is only an honor

If you lived every preceding second.

Old Nasty

July 13

Old Nasty

My addiction is like a Percheron, bigger and more powerful than I am, but what I have learned is that if I treat this horse with due respect and a guiding hand from my recovery and my Higher Power I can harness the energy of my illness and use its’ force to make my life work.  I can never be the master of alcoholism, but I can see it for what it is; an overgrown instinct looking for an outlet.  When I am given my way out I take this beast with me and when I value that partnership we are both safe.  When I have tried to lock it in a stall and run far from the barn, it kicks my life down.  When I put my head in the yoke willingly, together we are led and we do the work which is fulfilling and rich.  I was meant to work in a team, I am grateful to have a teammate.

Close your eyes and look at yourself

*

QUICK-------SAND !!!!!!

Don’t ask how deep the quicksand is. Said my sponsor.

It’s your job to get out of it--not quantify it.

I’m not sure how to get out.

Will you come and get me. I ask her?

No Darling, if I get in we will both be down for the count

The only chance we have for me to help you

Is if I stay out of the morass

With my feet firmly on solid ground.

What if you can’t get me out. I cry?

I will go get more help.

What if all of AA can’t get me out?

Angel, my hope is, that if there was no way out

You wouldn’t even know you were stuck.

A Year For Me

July 12

A Year for Me

The world is my mollusk and I am its pennyweight paragon, witty girl that I am.  I have spent enough time surrounded by wet feet and confining shells, all held at the bottom of the sea.  This is a year for me.  I am going to climb over the rim of my briny brink and try myself against the fearsome winds of chance.  Although souse is buoyant I feel strong enough to stand my ground.  Time has come for life, open and raw, but I shall leave the clams to the casino.

Allow ticklish issues to make you laugh

*

HOLD THE LINE

Relax is not the same as give up.

Unwind is not fray.

Letting go doesn’t mean never grab hold.

It is important to have moderation in all things

Including moderation, exuberance and enthusiasm,

These are wonderful in their season

Too much and I could get an adrenaline addiction.

Make sure your song has more than one note

And make sure you sing more than one song in your life.

Change, interest and excitement are vital to my existence

If you take all the spikes and ridges

Out of your life line

It means you’re Dead.

Let God Do What?

July 11

Let God Do What?

I hesitate to let go to G-d because I fear that G-d doesn’t like me, or likes me now, but doesn’t like me all the time.  I think I got this belief from being the only child of parents who don’t like children.  It never mattered how good I was, how smart or thoughtful, well informed, helpful, I always ended up being treated like I was a burden, someone to be endured.  If only I was likeable, I would think to myself and try recreating me to become….what?  Finally I settled on indispensable, if I could make myself necessary, then my life would be okay. People would need me therefore they would want me.  What I discovered is that people who can’t live without me end up resenting me.  By the time I was so important to others I was no longer important to me, so I didn’t need G-d’s help because I didn’t need anything, I didn’t exist.  Over time what I have settled on are a few truths: People who don’t like kids shouldn’t have them.  And I need G-d’s help to learn how to want to be here on this planet since I was not brought to earth by people who wanted me.

Title your dreams

*

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 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 many a lovely harvest.

None of which could have happened

Had I been left in the family plot.

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.