Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 25


Dear G-d

I need help. I need help availing myself of the help you have provided me. I am embarrassed to lack the ability to complete all the steps necessary for achieving the goals you have set before me. I see now that it is always my turn with you and I can stop standing aside believing that I have had your attention and must now do without. I do not want to ask for more; I don’t want to seem greedy. I forget that you know my heart and that you trust me. I am going to make that a two-way street, maybe a four-lane highway. I need help, thank you for being help full.

Love,

Sherrie





The obvious is sometimes invisible

*


ACCESS

Writing to you my Sweet,
Allows me to give what I have available
At the moment it comes into my possession.

You reading 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.

I can rant or tell jokes to you
You can embrace or ignore me
Introduce me to your friends
Or keep me your own personal province.

We are intimates
Because I bare my soul to you
And you take me into yours.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 26



Keds

If I gave a child a pair of sneakers would I refuse to help them to tie them on? Would I want this kid to wear them open, tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous? Or worse would I want the child to have to lug the sneakers around; the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift and protect it from use or wear? I hope that I would not be this sick, misguided or deranged. I have to say that I have given up believing in a crazy G-d but this doesn’t mean that I can’t drive G-d crazy with my insane behavior. I have to stick my feet inside my shoes and lift my foot for help and open my mouth to ask, then pay close attention so I can learn to do it on my own; all the while not beating myself up that I can’t do it already.






Treat adventure as a requirement for life



*


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 in 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.

[Tommi]

Originally Posted by LeftWriteFemme

July 26



Keds

If I gave a child a pair of sneakers would I refuse to help them to tie them on? Would I want this kid to wear them open, tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous? Or worse would I want the child to have to lug the sneakers around; the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift and protect it from use or wear? I hope that I would not be this sick, misguided or deranged. I have to say that I have given up believing in a crazy G-d but this doesn’t mean that I can’t drive G-d crazy with my insane behavior. I have to stick my feet inside my shoes and lift my foot for help and open my mouth to ask, then pay close attention so I can learn to do it on my own; all the while not beating myself up that I can’t do it already.






Treat adventure as a requirement for life



*


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 in 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.

I like your writing style

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 27



Un-imbedded

This week I have decided to be braver about where I invest my time, not all of it mind you but a portion of my diligent yet strangely unproductive time. I have to say I am realizing that I hide in pretty much every area of my life and that is no way to live and a really bad example to offer. The worst thing about hiding is it doesn't keep me safe; it just subjects me to different evils. It reminds me of that poor reporter who was imbedded in a tank and he died from not moving and his blood pooling and dehydration, so the tank kept him from getting his head shot off, but killed him in a different way, so in the end he wasn't safe and neither am I. I believe in prudence as a good policy, I do, but there is much that could make me stronger, happier, better, if I lift my head a bit and reach out my hand.









Defrost things which freeze you in place

*


ALICE

Because I even wore out my welcome
at the Mad Hatters house,
I can sit on my hands at my sponsors table
And listen, listen, listen.

If I had been able to make a place for myself
with the looking glass folk
I could never let myself loose 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.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 28


Clap

I know how to put my hands together, but I am unable to clap. It’s not that my palms can’t locate each other; it’s that I cannot find the beat. I sing; lilting rhythms rolling from my tongue. I keep time and drum the tattoo of jingle dress dance songs, but when my hand comes against its mate something is off. Faltering nuance plays havoc with my exuberant desire. I want to join the crowd in syncopated applause, yet my brain drops out. Because the gap is too far to leap I must walk around to the other side and by then I’ve lost the moment, the world has moved on without me. I used to think I needed to run my routine a little faster, but now I realize I need to learn to leap the gap and trust the beat to find me.








Engender your actions with optimism

*

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 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 slide of hand.
It slides my hand from glass to grace
I don’t need to pull a rabbit from my hat.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 29





The Regulator


Face to face the clock stares me down. I nearly dare the mismatched hands to beat me at my part. Their never-ending round-house drops me to the ground. My foot work is no equal for eternity. Fancy days and star lit nights distract me from the fight I’m losing, directing my thoughts to what I gain. If I turn with the hours dwelling in the moments the clock and I are friends, no more mad-dogging, no time to lose. Time is with me till the end, it is not the death of me; it’s the time of my life.








Smuggle your sweetness out from under your cynicism


*

PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

There is a penny in the bathtub.
I wonder who stood in there with loose change
Possibly confused 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 answers
At least now I can 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 which used to follow wherever I went.

I can smile now
And think of pennies from Heaven
The first drop landed in my tub.

[LeftWriteFemme]

July 30





The Acts of Hope

I cover my head when I pray in hopes that G-d wants me sheltered. I attend meetings to keep alive the hope that sobriety is the end of isolation. I talk to the people in my network hoping I have something helpful to share. I sit down to the blank page with hopes that HP still chooses to collaborate with me. I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope that color is still my friend. I inhale air along with hope that each breath is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.






Take your inventory but don’t sell your stock


*

WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS DUCK

The duck looks fine sitting on the edge,
The rubber face frozen in a permanent grin
The appearance is flawless.
As long as it is not called to duty
No one will ever know.

Stay still---don’t jump.
When dropped into the water
This creature born for the tub
Lays on its side, one eye looking at the ceiling
The other straight at the bottom.

Floating is occurring but something is oh so wrong.
As indelicate as it may seem
This duck needs a big squeeze
No kid gloves and tender touches.

This duck has sucked in old bathwater
And misused ideas
Only a big push in the right direction
Will get this rancid stuff out.

Though the duck will get bend out of shape
There is no reason it can’t bounce back
That’s the wonderful thing about rubber
It is flexible and resilient
Even if it doesn’t always volunteer.