Prize Catch

June 11

Prize Catch

There is a reason that fish flap and twist when they are caught, why even though they are in the air they fight for the life that once was theirs, only martyrs go without a fight, it is good to know that at least this vice is not mine. When I did not love my life its loss was not an actual change, there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to struggle for. Now I thrash at the feel of my loved life slipping from me. It is good to know I have passion enough to rally a defense. My life can be taken from me, but I haven’t lost my will to fight.

Turn confusion until its smooth

*

THE PALMIST

Last night I had a silly dream.

I was in a tent at a carnival and the woman across the table

Held my hand so dear, looked into my eyes and said

“Today you will go to a meeting which will save your life”

I thanked her and left full of anticipation.

When I awoke, I was filled with the same strong sensation

I rose, washed and left for the meeting with anticipation.

I paid close attention to the coffee maker,

Those setting up chairs with me and the newcomer

I listened carefully to the speakers

And the sound of the group’s voice closing in prayer

Nothing out of the ordinary happened

Other than my realization

That every meeting saves my life.

Abraxas

June 10

Abraxas

I was waiting for a magic person and then you appeared. I was dazzled; I was under your spell. In an attempt to prove myself your natural assistant I sawed me in two. Then I stepped into the vanishing cabinet and promptly disappeared. I was not wrong to see the miraculous in you, but I never looked from your visage once you arrived. The world around me melted at your entrance and I flowed down the drain along with it. I somehow expected a response from you, but why respond to an empty room? So, I will plug back into myself and power up. Power draws power and I will see if I can draw you once again.

Keep a truce on hand for later use

*

THE LANDING

Risers and runners lift from where I stand

Here I make my decision

I climb and face the challenges of my life

Each new test returns me to this square

The steps ascend in every direction

No matter how many times I have scaled this set of twelve

I must start anew with even the slightest change of direction

Like facets on a diamonds base

The flights emerge from the tiny base

And hold the world of possibilities

Within their meticulous surface

I look into these precious mirrors

To see who I am and where to go

Though none of this would be possible

Without a place to stand.

Weight Problem

June 9

Weight Problem

I have trouble raising my 50 pound hand in meetings. In between meetings I have the problem of trying to dial the 500 pound phone. Which leaves me with this 2,000 pound weight on my chest and no air to breathe, no life to lead. There is the difficulty of the relentless tyrant, my would be sponsor, the person I fail to ask. Plus, the home group that does not support me, since they do not know my name. All the while folks laugh and talk and have a good time, I can see none of them have suffered from my weight problem.

Continue to move into your home

*

CLONING DAYS

The novelty of sobriety causing sweet days

Wore to gauze and I attempted control

I cut, pasted and sutured elements of good living

In an effort to make 24 hour of personal perfection.

I was so sure I could replicate these jewel days

I would make perfect spheres, everything round and even

One after another like a string of pearls

The more I tried the harder God laughed

.

Days are their own planets

Saturn is different from Mars

And today will have as little to do with tomorrow

If I let it all work out.

Perfection is a thing which is born to live

Not a thing I can draft in a dish or test tube

Life will-out

Or chaos will prevail.

Enclosed Space

June 8

Enclosed Space

In the echo chamber it is the cymbals which cause the most pain. The drums resound, deep and loud, but it is the crashing of brass that drives me wild. Cotton wool and sealing wax can not put my head at ease. Resonate walls with their hollow effects create the feedback loops of hurt, like the endless reflection of parallel mirrors the sounds come back to me with relentless repetition. Aural illusion might have been the idea, but chaos is the result and leaving the space between these ears will be, will allow, the band to play on without the benefit of my torment.

Write the stories the clouds illustrate

*

BOUQUET

I love the flowers in my garden

Their upkeep is my solemn trust

With my shears I must cut

Clear and swift the runners

Which detract from the health and structure.

When fruiting is heavy I must spare the stalk

And choose what stays and what needs to be taken

I am scrupulous in my observation of form and function

The bucolic scene thrives

The pageant of color sweeps the rows

I bend to nurture and stretch to prune

I pay over much attention to the plucking

And forget I need to bring the blooms home.

Discussions with my Disease

June 7

Discussions with my Disease

“You’re not the girl I used to know.”

“Not the girl you used to love is what you mean?”

“You’re different is all I mean to say.”

“The rest you leave there to rot, unsaid?”

“Something has happened to you.”

“Is it something that you do not like?”

“I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Or is it that you never knew?”

“One false move could break us up.”

“All your moves are false why will one more cause such change?”

Side with the tide

*

MAGIC WAND

Why are you wearing that hat and waving

That star studded stick, I ask my sponsor?

Isn’t this what you want, a magic wand, she replied?

Whatever are you talking about?

I don’t want a wizard.

Don’t you?

You thought walking into your first meeting would

Poof---make you all better,

When that didn’t work, you held your breathe for 90 days.

When that also proved a disappointment

You let the air out of your blue face

And started the white knuckle routine for a year.

At the end of twelve months, you released your arthritic grip

And started scheming for a new sponsor

But the new wicked witch sent you scurrying back to me.

Then it was a relationship with the undying love

That would break the spell you are under.

Now tell me again,

How you don’t want me to use this magic wand on you?

Said my sponsor with aplomb.

I guess my behavior gave me away,

Go ahead say your incantation.

I closed my eyes and waited for her words.

Show up and do the work

Keep your mind open, she said

As she waved the cudgel.

That’s it----------I asked,

Well yes-- but I have to come back everyday

She grinned

Eggshells and Bethlehem

June 6

Eggshells and Bethlehem

A stable is a place to keep a horse and in fairytales a place to birth a baby, but stable is the story I told myself about you. Solid, a model of strength and here you are a tripod, upright only if the pressure is evenly applied. I blame myself for lopsided need and try to find a way to keep this coupling standing. Stripped down to minor contact I wonder if you actually remember me and then I wonder if I remember myself. This is what is at stake, this is the trophy I lose when I fall for you and you fall down. Where is the girl I worked so hard to create? Broken eggshells litter the nest and I look for the chick I used to be. I fear losing you, I cry at the thought of losing us, I die at the loss of me.

Graft beauty to stability

*

IN THE MEADOW

Being the only tree in the meadow often leaves me feeling lonely

I tell myself of the camaraderie I imagine in the forest

These images are more poetic than real.

I believe in community and support

I think of the woods as a place apart

From the complications of my exposed life.

I shrug off the very real competition and struggle

From sharing every inch of root space

And the search for each square of sunlight.

There is much joy in being an individual

An eco-system of diversity allows me to fully develop

I can spread my branches and my roots.

I can offer shelter to those in need of my reaching and my shadow

Tender flowers and tired birds find me a haven

I have unique abilities in this field

Space can feel lonely

But it is full of possibilities.

The Hope Diamond

June 5

The Hope Diamond

My guess is the same god that wants me stupid also wants me to suffer. I ask myself what could be all powerful about that? I wonder is G-d like a friend or a lover? I carefully chose my friends whereas my lover found me against my greatest plans and well thought rules. And if this is to be like marriage, may I file for divorce if things go astray? Or am I stuck with this match, like I am stuck with my deformed ear there underneath my hat or fringe of hair? I never thought of my relationship with G-d like a necklace I could take on and off at will, though the more I study it seems this beautiful thing enhances my beauty if all is right and will strangle me if it gets hung up.

Sort genius from fortune

*

RED ROSES

From tight green buds come beautiful roses.

From small verdant places I blossom too.

I open to richness unexpected and fullness unbelieved.

I look at crumpled laundry

Never anticipating the look of clean sheets blowing on the line

Doors I perceive as blocked by vast boulders

Are thrown open by willingness.

Who I am today is no one I recognize

I didn’t see myself coming.

I write though I can’t spell

I love though my heart is broken.

I think though my mind is warped

And I trust though the amulet is long shattered.

Promise is not a laid out plan but the continuum of change

I can fight it or let it carry me where it goes.