Mortification

August 10

MORTIFICATION

Lime with envy, I built a wall around.  Love and hate are enclosed, brick and stone.  Rigor of extremities, the discipline of ages falls so short.  I make no in-depth connections; I coat externals with glue, stack reactions and let the bombs fly.  I mix and crush old habits and bad ideas, make a paste.  I am setting myself up again.  Abstinence becomes the pestle of bludgeoning and abasement.  I am hard and I am hollow; with wounded pride, I subjugate my soul.  My life is reduced to a powder.  I am mortified.

Spread oil from your navel out.

*

Michal Rovner

I have numbered all the blocks in my ancestral walls.

This has enabled me to recreate them

stone by stone everywhere I go.

It all fits to create the tomb I now have to learn to leave.

I must change the equation and reorder the numbers

allowing these rocks to be recycled

and find a wonderful useful life

as a stairway out of this pit of despair.

What was once an edifice to lives unlived

is now able to facilitate elevation,

a restoration of a level playing field.

It was not wrong for me to catalog the stone

and there was no way for me to leave them behind,

but nothing matches the satisfaction of using them to build a life,

except for the ability to live in it.

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

Hawaiian Graffiti

August 9

HAWAIIAN GRAFFITI

White pebbles spell themselves across the black of lava grown cold.  Personal announcements proclaim love, school pride, religious freedom.  The care of placement and consideration of design make the roadside an ongoing mineral memo.  What message would I care to share?  What words would prompt me to bring a pail of crushed marble to the edge of the road?  Is there a truth so urgent I would take time from paradise to spell it out?  A few more miles and I see the words I live by strewn down the thoroughfare, “it works if you work it.”

Joint your possibilities.

*

Pick up Your Hammer and Saw

The task infers the tool, I know this,

yet I resist clearly mapping my insanity.

I look into the well of my despair

then quickly I look away,

I fear informing God what I need

lest the need be filled.

I need to believe that a power will heal me,

but if I am provided with the force of life,

I shrink from the prospect.

This too, must be added to the list

of my emotional woes and mental shortages.

This too, will be healed.

I look at my problems

and then realize, that like the moon,

who pulls the water from dry shore to dry shore,

solutions are installed in heaven and earth

if I know what the problem is.

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

Penny for your thoughts

August 8

PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

There is a penny in the bathtub.  I wonder who stood in there with loose change.  Possibly confusing it for a wishing well, the penny was tossed in.  The stories I could tell the hopes that tantalize my mind, elves and leprechauns, dreamers and optimists all trundle through my thinking.  When I don’t know the answer, I can now at least look for the best, the sweetest thoughts.  I don’t run to the dark and threatening disasters.  I have lost the lease to my personal black cloud, the one that used to follow wherever I went.  I can smile now and think of pennies from heaven.  The first drop landed in my tub.

Think of what a spider and a whale have in common.

*

Stand- Hear

The spins and pirouettes I have preformed

in an attempt to avoid facing the music,

were impressive but futile and ultimately

delayed the beauty possible for me in this life.

When I stop my running and turn on my heel

there is a world of harmony waiting

to take me for a turn out on the dance floor.

Melody is not what I was expecting.

I was so sure I would be drummed out of my life,

not trumpeted in.

My surety set in motion much of my convoluted activity

and caused me great distress.

It is high time I listen with eyes open

and my reactions leashed;

Allowing the tune to introduce me to life

and lead me to my bliss.

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

Presto!

August 7

PRESTO!

Just because I own pointy boots doesn’t mean I can corral the cows.  I have in my possession many things of subtle intent, but they can’t just transform me.  The wings from Halloween don’t make me an angel.  The Big Book on the shelf won’t sober me up. Nothing holds the magic to change me.  I can only change with help.  Action, action and more action is the magician's sleight of hand.  It slides my hand from glass to grace.  I don’t need to pull a rabbit from my hat.

Play with your oatmeal.

*

I Beg

The embarrassment of need

is a haunting guest who will not leave.

I turn in a tight circle trying to find a way

to detach  this wart and move gracefully

from the site of devastation.

But it looms large

and overshadows today’s possibilities

and robs tomorrows gold.

What I cannot do for myself,

the magic I cannot yet perform,

stands between me and contentment.

It stands there wearing your face;

touching my mind with your fingertips.

I pray that you are not the answer

for I cannot depend on you.

I think of you and the little bell rings

and I am hungry.

Desire is a gift, desiring you is the burden

whose shadow I cannot escape.

I close my eyes to the light you emit;

I cannot close my heart, all that’s left is pleading;

please come home and fill me or leave

and lock the door and let me grieve in peace.

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

Alice

August 6

ALICE

Because I even wore out my welcome at the Mad Hatter’s house, I can sit on my hands at my sponsor's table and listen, listen, listen.  If I had been able to make a place for myself with the looking-glass folk, I could never have let myself lose my eccentricities and join in the fellowship.  Going down further than a rabbit hole, I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies for time or card tricks.  No more illusions for me.  I am awake and shaded by the tree of AA branching over me.  Sisters I didn’t know take my hand.

Dance with change.

*

I didn’t mean to make you laugh

You think I’m witty, well, yes, I have always been like this,

no one knew quite what to do with me as a small child,

but I have grown into this acumen,

or possibly grown out into it, is closer to accurate.

I was dark witted when I was young,

I think of myself as less so now,

optimism is a blessing I have gained through the years,

it feels good and I keep it close.

I need to be a blithe spirit to travel the road I do.

Tears have their place, I know that for sure,

but I rather not go around with a puss on all day and all night.

Additionally it is so much about perspective; you see,

the honey makes the peas taste funny

but now they stick to my knife.

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

Stubborn

August 5

STUBBORN

When the donkey won’t move forward it’s time to stop running.  No need to make an ass of myself through force or coercion.  The dumb animal may be mute but its actions speak.  Reluctance is a warning.  If my animal nature is balking, listening not shoving is the preferred course.  Super intelligence can’t best good horse sense.  I must stand with my intuition; that creature depends on my survival for life.

Balance your shoe with your foot.

*

What are We Fighting For

Instead of competition for dominance

we would benefit from cooperation for survival.

The struggle to become the very best destroyers in the world

very well might make us postmortem champions.

Why is it that the lions don’t work to eradicate hyenas?

They could, but they don’t.

Why not, is the ever present question on my mind.

I have no answer as to why we strive to conquer.

A thousand platitudes come to mind,

but nothing fast or tight, nothing that holds water.

So, the question remains; why are we hell bent?

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

Access

August 4

ACCESS

Writing to you, my Sweet, allows me to give what I have available at the moment it comes into my possession.  You reading me lets you invite me in when you are ready or willing, possibly both.  I can store succulent treasure for you without the least consideration of freezer burn or apathy.  You are here when I want you, yearning and prepared.  I am yours for the taking in the classroom, the bedroom, or even in your bath.  I can whisper or shout to you, rant or tell jokes at you.  You can embrace or ignore me, introduce me to friends or keep me your own personal province.  We are intimates because I bare my soul to you and you take me into yours.

Recommend your assets.

*

Sleep Tight

Did you dream?

Sleep the sleep of faultless souls?

Or twist the sheets

as in that Gilbert & Sullivan treatment?

Are night time wrestlings an indication

of decadent daytime activity?

Or is it all simply a matter of happenstance?

Possibly something I ate, thought, wished for?

I think to myself,

I should not have gotten into that unmade bed,

should have made it up; the bed and my mind,

should have straighten out the crumpled mass

of discarded dreams from yesterday and started fresh

But instead  I climbed in with it all tumbled and tossed,

lumpy and coarse, no smooth sailing in this tangled sea.

What time I would have saved by leveling

the playing field and plumping the pillows.

All is not lost, there is always tonight.

Sweet dreams straight ahead

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