Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 23


Jacks


Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged? Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee? Does irrepressible sardonic wit explain the order of restless exposition? Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me, or flightless fancy to keep me down? I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device. I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks, but I am more than just a glaze and deep down I’m more than sound, so walk with my wild side and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.





When you can’t fill the void, wallpaper

*

BEFORE THE END OF THE ROAD

Before the end of the road tiny stone lay on the side
Freshly painted lines glimmer in this twilight trance.
Walking the macadam, the crunch underfoot
Changes my perspective.

No steering wheel or accelerator
This is ankle express all the way.
Walking the road , step by step, on my own
I am part of the soft and growing world.
Progressing on a plan of separate integrity

Moist, lush wonder, is missed
By the motor speedway I let rule my life
Honeyed sweetness cover the vegetation
Swaying in the undulating air born pulse.

I am tempted to lie down and have a roll
But my role tonight is to reach the end of the road.
When my goal is achieved I may choose
A woodland life or an urban endeavor.

Seeing the end of this path is job enough for now.
Decisions anticipated prior to arrival
Are foolish diversions.
I need to stay, not stray with the dancers in the wind.

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 24


Spectrum


The quality of the poetry is so dependant on the quality of the lighting. Improve the color palette and yes, you’ve guessed the result. So, I say to you, “Turn up the lights. Do not write in half-dark grief and limp through the words. Spotlight what you can and illuminate the rest. You needn’t make a sound, needn’t pitch a tent, needn’t build a bridge, though you may, may if you wish and wish is what I do, wish for better light and when the clouds break loose in the sky and let the sun pour, I lift my pen and make it all; for what was needed was this better light.”






Imagine your webbed feet
*





PICK ME SIX NUMBERS

Knowing all the page numbers
And quotes of the Big Book
But not being able to apply them
Is like knowing all the winning lottery numbers
With the inability to buy a ticket.

Telling my story has little or nothing
To do with public speaking
Recovery has so much more to do
With willingness rather than studiousness.

Popularity contest, policing meetings
And service politics are a circus
I have attended far too often.
Empty rooms sporting great curtains
Does not a home make
Comprehension is no substitute for acquiescence

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 25


Behind Closed Doors


The children of happy fathers make no sense to me. I have known no such peace. What is it to live in a world where there is a man who likes you, someone who approves? I feel like my chin would have always been out there to see, no ducking, no need to hide, had there been a good man to whom I could turn. The dark circles under the eyes of my soul make me old, old and different from those kids, mere children, safe in a home with a happy man whose joy it is to be their Dad.






Dance cheek to cheek with your muse when you can

*

DETAIL DAYS

Detail days seem like lost soulless days.
I sort the piles of endless junk mail
Catch up on bills, letters, laundry.
I don’t leave the house but in someway
I feel like I’m not in my home.

It’s like a day of pulling out all the needles,
Splinters and thorns which accumulate
Under my skin from rough weeks and road rash.
I steel myself to the pain of relief and rescue.

Cleared counters, emptied baskets, finished worry list
Leave me with that newly moved in feel.
Piles overwhelm me but sometimes details define me.

[RockOn]

My sponsor passed her CompTIA Security+ Certification exam. I am so happy for her. She worked so hard for this certification. It is a very tough exam.

I am so happy for Cheryl!!!

[LeftWriteFemme]

Originally Posted by Brock

My sponsor passed her CompTIA Security+ Certification exam. I am so happy for her. She worked so hard for this certification. It is a very tough exam.

I am so happy for Cheryl!!!

That is so great Brock!!! Tell her congratulations for me!

[LeftWriteFemme]

October 26


Basket Ball



Idiots out number poets, this is a fact, though I do wonder why. It cannot be an easy lot spending your days in slow witted discharge; I would think they might at least try putting pen to paper. I think I would rather live in a world filled with bad poets rather than drifting on this ship of fools, but the troubadours rise with imbeciles as their cover and poems fall from favor. I wonder how I could make verse a contagion, how could I make it spread? You may laugh at me, but think what some guy did with a broken peach basket and a rubber ball.









Check your gait for swing




*



STRONG WORDS

Serious language, deep language, real language
Helps me by grounding me.
I don’t have to be nice for company
When I can just tell the truth.

I needn’t have guests with virgin ears
Or unrealistic expectations,
I no longer pander to such foolishness.
I know the layered meaning of my words.

I value the intensity of a large vocabulary.
I am not intimidated by prudish co-conspirators
Who stare down pointed noses
At powerful utterances.

Weak words make poor boundaries
And breed victims.
I will not be trapped by niceties
I will speak clearly out of necessity.

[RockOn]

Sherrie,

I will sure tell Cheryl for you. She has been studying like crazy. I knew she would get it. So thankful the pressure is off of her now. Blessings, blessings!


Brock