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Old 11-21-2014, 09:54 AM   #2461
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November 21

FLORAL TROPHIES


Captured pet plants grow in my window. Why these specimens are given such regal care I suspect, but can’t explain. Delicate shoots pile out of sturdy stalks; roots force the confines of my decorative pots. How many neighborly blooming faces stare into my kitchen, greeting me mornings? I am amazed what good company my leafy friends can be when I am loving myself. Advantageous to my mental health, I breathe their exhaust and they breathe mine. Symbiotic, we live. I grow and flower; grateful these plants keep me.


Allow also small dreams that fit in your hand.
*



Jet Lagging


Baby’s feet kick in the isle
and we are all cocooned in our seats.
The movies play and earphones dangle in our ears.

We are jetting across the country in our own little worlds.
Landing can not happen soon enough for me,
not that I want to foreshorten the flight.

I just know I have a stack of lives waiting for me
and I would like to get back to living them.
I have been a week away, a vacation for sure and true
but I have my keep to earn, my obligations are many.

I hope to have done myself proud when I am through,
but until then there is much to do.



Vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCezu...ature=youtu.be



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
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Old 11-22-2014, 01:41 PM   #2462
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November 22

JELLYFISH AND PEANUT BUTTER CARDS



Jellyfish and peanut butter cards make for busy days and cheerful nights, sunlit at the beach and lantern light filled with double-decker solitaire. Camping as a way of life suits some as they run from their lives. For the more balanced, camp is a temporary retreat. To the overly invested, camping is an aberration, a threat to the foundations of civilization as we know it. I can take a bit of sand in my hair, smoke in the air. Though I do dread the feeling of coming back to the life I love and feeling like a stranger. Temporary disengagement estranges me from the place, the things, the dog. I need time away, variety of experience, expanded horizons. I need my entrenched home life. I need it all and must accept the clock never stops running anyplace on the planet even if I am enjoying a good game with sticky camp cards, regaling tales of man-of-war.



Don’t break your wishbone.
*

One and One


The person who has nothing is vague.
The person who has too much alludes.
And these people may falsely mistake one another
for kindred
when what you draw your conclusions from
are the poems and sweet words,
which flow out of these divergent folk.

A paper house is built, but the living is impossible.
Tying strings to dreams doesn’t permit you
to fly away to fairylands it just leaves you prone
to lightening strikes and long wet wicks.

What could be the truth unfolded;
spread broadly for all to see?
Where could the roads so very far apart
lead to a home, a hearth, a life?

Or is this just a field of fantasy flowers blooming in our minds?
Mist is vapor pretending at a marriage
to a world it will soon evaporate and leave.
You and I are passing ships on a short sad night.
Vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSJYc...ature=youtu.be


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-23-2014, 09:29 AM   #2463
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November 23

PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL


In truth, pride goes wherever it wants, it’s pride. Pride wanders alone, for no one enjoys its company. Pride travels far but gets nowhere. Pride rises above reality and seeps beneath the surface. When pride wears out, love and honesty poke holes in it until it is grounded and transforms to humility. Pride’s past is remembered with flush and embarrassment. Recounting yesterday is pride’s unenviable task. Keeping it from recreation is mine.


Dress yourself with love.

*
No Mickey Mouse


The Wonderful World of Disney
belonged to normal children;
kids with Sunday nights
and not the tear filled screaming
which punctuated my weekends.

I had no time for the creative melodrama
built to add interest into the dull little lives
of safe little ones, there is no Disney for me;
no clean pasteled figures frolicking.

I know only the freshened wit of the wizened rabbit
and the frenetic slamming of that distorted duck;
these are there for me.
Teaching me the dark humor of the life I lead;

Preparing me to laugh at M*A*S*H,
yet still never cluing me to the fact
that Carroll O’Connor was only teasing,
so still I cried to hear his rants,

But the dry irony of Hawkeye,
war and blood, those I got.
I was carefully led there by the Merry Melodies.




Vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7AIC...ature=youtu.be

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-24-2014, 10:36 AM   #2464
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November 24

LIKE PEACE


Peace, like an elephant on my chest; I can’t breathe but at least we are not fighting. The rigid air hangs like sheets on the line, stiff but dry. Plastered smiles and short salutations get us through until bedtime, but what we can hold in standing up pours out lying down. Tender feelings are compressed and come out only as water. Anger bubbles and brews. Disappointment lives down deep and sours the milk of love. There are things worse than cross words. Moldering, festering, frozen words pound spikes in a relationship fraught with apprehension. The truth is I would let these pent-up things out, but I don’t trust you and I don’t trust me.


See through time.

*
How I’ve come upon the World.


My first exposure to Bogart
was as the man who was after Bugs Bunny,
and Lauren Bacall was only referred to as Baby.

I only ever heard Kaw Liga because
Stephen King referenced it too often
and I had to go have a listen.

I come through the back door on so much of the world
and it has served me rather well.
Yes, I often feel ignorant,
but at least the knowledge never sees me coming
and I get the drop on it.

There is a quality to not having been spoon-fed,
that keeps me sharp and allows for depth.
The universe sends me clues and I go investigate.

It cuts down on the agendaed learning of the social norms
and cuts me a wide swath beyond the common path.
There are times when conformity is key;
then again it’s a sweet thing to have a choice.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/vOk4ICNxMiE


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-25-2014, 05:03 PM   #2465
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November 25

THE FLYING MIND


When my brain flies out my ear, destination unknown, I am left mentally bereft. I feel intellectual convolution and show no affliction other than my inability to fulfill my assignments. I stare out sure a ring of blue birds circle my head, or maybe stars like any other cartoon patsy. What to do? These parodied wingdings ridicule me privately leaving the impression of idiocy with onlookers and supervisors. My focus and perceptions quaver and I lose my place. I have to find a way to spot and keep my emotional balance, the same way I stay upright during pirouettes by watching one doorframe or light switch. I need an unmoving object in a sea of swimming thoughts. I still need to make the mental turns but this should be much easier if I stop landing on my face.


Work with yourself.
*


John Grisham


My time hovering low over the ocean
has filled me until I am ready to drop.
The weight of what is inside me bears down.

I know with the slightest cooperation
I will become a rainmaker.
I am mostly fine with this.

I know from whence the rain was derived
and I can let it fall in peace.
What I don’t know how to handle
is the acknowledgement.

The difference between what I know
and what you might think is vast
and if I try to dissuade you
I sound disingenuous or fraudulent.

I have to get my head around the part I play
and accept the roses when they come.
I don’t understand how this looks from offstage
or what it means to those who watch.

I hope they will enjoy the work
but never mistake me for the playwright.




Vlog: http://youtu.be/VePH0r1p3_M


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-26-2014, 02:07 PM   #2466
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November 26

ASSURANCES OF GULLIVER


Poor Lilliputians and my egg shaped conundrum! At least they have the strength of their convictions when I have only pondering to share the space between my ears. What sense could the world make if there is no one right way and each person is free to open the egg from either end or leave the thing intact, having instead maybe a bagel? I have been looking for the combinations to unlock the universe when possibly it’s an egg shaped thing with no doors or locks and all that’s left is to break in or out.


Believe what you can do.
*



Poorly Chirping

She writes poetry like fusion jazz,
more fun to make than to listen to.
She stands at the podium serving as a bad example.

I pray as she reads,
“Lord, please don’t let me get sucked into
the self-importance of bad poetry
for the sake of peering peers,

Forgetting to write what is there
for the world, the readers,
the things which bring the word pictures
and sets them before me.

Lord, remind me that the writing is not done for me,
but done for as Billy Collins quotes,
for the love of strangers.”


Vlog: http://youtu.be/ded-ZwPisXo

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
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Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-27-2014, 03:27 PM   #2467
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November 27

THE STORYTELLER



Funny stories I long to share with new friends have to be put aside while the core of this entity is built. Mutual memory is the siding on a house framed in integrity. Treading together through the past, we strengthen each other's perception; it's the only support that can be offered without time travel. We take hands, then link arms, wander happily toward the future having the keys to history jangling in our fists; we can return whenever prudent or necessary. We forge a fresh path and hope for a pleasant journey; between us we figure we have slain all the dragons.



Invest in idealism.
*


At The Dodge


I remember so long ago
when I would come and sit and listen;
soak in the poets and the Consort,
sop it all into the sponge that listened and sat.

I did not know exactly what they were doing
and I didn’t know why I was there,
but I went and had a soak.

Now so many years hence
I am the writer I never knew
and I know just what they do ,
because I do it too!



Vlog: http://youtu.be/KdHEGLintMM

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-28-2014, 11:17 AM   #2468
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November 28

NAVY DUCK

When the postcard is hung upside down the plane flies away on its back. I know one of those irregular days with the disposition of a bee-stung mule is on its way to visit me. I have found diplomacy goes a long way and when it runs out, humor is the best fallback, nothing mean or sophomoric, but the ability to laugh is a fortune in the face of a bankrupt day. When the sun sets on these spare and harrowing days, I mortgage strength from tomorrow and right the picture then try to fly right.


Plod when you can’t skip.

*
The Twelfth of April


When I met you,
you were a power tagged and trapped in a box.
A tiger caught by its toe and yet I could do nothing
but fall under the spell of your roar.

The suppressed growl you leave for me
like an invitation I could never decline.
I write to you a note of explanation;
words testifying to my desire,
which I promise to hold back out of respect for you.

And a wish to survive my drive toward you
and your furious stripes and claws.
Your bite which I long to feel,
yet know I must not ask for.

When I inquire if you have read,
you say with sanguine smile, “Read it to me.”
When I am done and with tear stained face,
all you reply is,
“I have lost my taste for anyone but you.”



Vlog: http://youtu.be/BErwEM4t6Hw

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
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Click on flashing smilie to see my website

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Old 11-29-2014, 04:32 PM   #2469
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November 29

ENDLESS PASTA


Having limits in a seemingly limitless universe makes me feel horribly inadequate. I am a sad little creature in the face of overwhelming tasks. Pressure and unwarranted ego compress my ability and eager disposition. I am forced to see there are chores outside my qualifications and willingness. Going on in the face of crushing requirements extrudes my life force into a plateful of capellini lying exposed with no gravy to keep me warm. It is hard to realize, in this world of wonder and delight a plate of naked spaghetti can’t do it all.



Put a penny in your sock.

*
Relay

I have waited so long for the chase, the trap,
the dig a ditch for safety, to be over and here we are;
ringed, safe and surrounded.

Now the sweet work of living the life
we have striven for, striven to.
I now long to be my best, do my best,
for you are the best for me and I am the best for you.

I tense and press against the blocks;
the race I wish to run,
but all I knew was to wait.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/Hl6Vd8z-p3c

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 11-30-2014, 06:40 PM   #2470
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November 30

FLAW IN SNOW

Waiting for snow. Waiting for cold fingers, slick roads, warm beds, reading by firelight. Waiting for the proof of lack of control. Waiting itself proves lack of control. I can dance the snow dance and refuse to buy new shovels, hang out laundry, put out every manner of storm tempters; still I cannot force the hand of nature. I must sit with my crystalline optimism and endure these cloudless skies. There will be snow, it will fall somewhere, but I mustn’t grow overanxious ‘cause it may never snow in Miami.


Treat yourself with learning.
*

My Most Important Meal


Sweet potato pudding sits on the plate;
I sit in my place and wield my spoon
until the plate is clean.
I’m fed, my day begins.

If this is the best part of my day,
life is still sweet and fine.
Time skips its way through and I meet and greet
the splendid and the few.

Picking my way, the raindrops step aside;
I am gratified, though I never mind the rain.
When the mud has settled and my bed calls me home;
I look back to the start of the day
and pray to begin the next one the very same way.




Vlog: http://youtu.be/0_muX8IfQHI

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 12-01-2014, 04:14 PM   #2471
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December 1

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT


Arrested development was bad enough; the living death sentence it imposes is completely unacceptable. My childhood ran down the hill away from the mountain of confusion that is life in this society. My ability to mature was damaged and what I learned to do was mutate. I could move laterally but never grow up. I became the goose being grown for its liver. All the honk and squawk in the world couldn’t change my plight. I don’t have to understand how I was let out of the prison of addiction. As long as I don’t go back I’ll never fear breaking out in handcuffs or getting locked in my crib.


Effort is already made, just add your hand.
*

Flower Power


The man with the chrysanthemum on his head
walks up and down the isle.
Do I look like that, I wonder to myself?
Have I taken personal style to the point of caricature?

What is the boundary by which
the embarrassment is kept at bay?
Is there a point at which I can overcome
who I present myself as,
and represent the best of who I can be?

Who I might be if only I can manage
not to get carried away by impressionism?
I am given this dwelling and it suits me quite well,
when I treat it as a temple and not simply as a shrine.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/yHOob7gAEMQ

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
Clicking on these dragon eggs will take you to my new erotic novella:
Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
Please take a look at my work
Click on flashing smilie to see my website

To look at my Daddy/girl erotica book Click on pompom girl to see Elbows on the Table, Palms Flat
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Old 12-02-2014, 05:08 PM   #2472
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December 2

There are only 23 more shopping days left till my nervous break down


Shoppers beware: I have a careful plan! I can juggle these thirty things, keep these twenty people happy, dig around in the dirt at these three excavation sites and hold on to my sanity for twenty-three more days.
My sponsor says having a plan like that means I’m already crazy. My sponsor says I don’t have to please anyone but myself, my Higher Power and her. That can’t be right. What is the point of sobriety if I can’t do it all?
She says I don’t even have to please her or myself. What does that mean? How can I tell if I’m pleasing my Higher Power?
She says, “Shut up and you’ll find out.” Great! What a plan. I like my countdown better. Of course I do, it’s mine. My countdown, my life, mine, mine, mine.
Maybe my sponsor is not all wrong. OK, quiet......da,da,da.....da,da. OK, quiet for real. Hmmm. I don’t, don’t know. This isn’t working. I can’t do this. Why would I need to stop being me in order to get better?
“Who are you?” she asks. She thinks she’s so smart. I’m the one in the middle. She says the eye of the storm is empty and I need to get a life of my own.




Endurance lets you live in the house you built.
*

Anti-Forfeit Activity


I don’t want to write
bad, forced, poor, weak, care-worn poems,
but I won’t write any good ones if I don’t lift this pen.

The embarrassment I might feel for lackluster lines
is far less than the shame of empty notebooks.
I don’t always like what flows when I open the gates,
but I am sure glad the current is live and so am I.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/1K9UEf2__xk


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-03-2014, 08:24 PM   #2473
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December 3

MIRACULOUS


Sometimes the blind lead the deaf. The subtle signs are the bumping into trouble and inability to listen to reason. It is an expedition into disaster unfettered by common sense or boundaries. Tumbles and falls propel this pairing to unknown destinations. The attraction is baffling but undeniable. These pairs can be seen through the ages. In spite of this confounding coupling, sometimes the blind find their way and the deaf hear the call. And even when they don’t, life seems to roll along. But try to keep your eyes and ears open anyway.


Set the goalpost where you can see it.
*

Precious Cargo


Do I carry myself as well as I could?
Do I understand the value
of what is contained within me?

This journey matters,
it requires my attention and comprehension,
if only I am able.

When I fall short the road changes.
The distance I go has much to do with how well
and whether I acknowledge the nature of the cargo
with which I am embedded.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/iPT2N2sthu4

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-04-2014, 04:43 PM   #2474
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December 4

PERSONAL DICTIONARY


Everyone keeps a dictionary in his or her head. All the words lay on platters each with its own flavor and meaning. There are favorite menus, phrases, which form warmly in the mouth and hang sweetly for the ear. Other vocabulary is exotic, pungent, occasionally with a strong aftertaste or off-key ringing. Abundance brings a wealth of conversation and keeps the cold of boredom at bay. Free for the taking, words grow out of life lived. When we have lived separately, even if only in our separate heads, meanings vary and reference must be checked. Blue sky is blue sky, but do you speak of azure, cerulean or peacock? Life is so much show and tell. Drink the sunshine with your eyes and flow it out to me with your words.


Write on scraps then tape them together.
*

Night Spaces


When it gets dark it gets dark fast.
They say, night falls,
though sometimes it feels like it falls down.

What is little realized is there is a lifting
when the light has gone away, the sky raises
its roof and there is more air to breathe.

Long lost is the pink wisp
that heralded this night
and far ahead is the next wisp
of pink singing of the moon.



Vlog: http://youtu.be/N7qvZVKXWPs

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-05-2014, 02:30 PM   #2475
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December 5

THE BOAT

On my ride home from work there is a boat stuck between two trees in the middle of a horse pasture next to a riverbed so dry it's filled with grass. I think the boat is me. I feel for the boat every time I see it. Turned on edge, waiting for a river, which doesn't exist anymore and may never exist again. Placed on edge for protection, not comfort. Although having my bottom rot out, well, let's just say might be more uncomfortable. What good will I be even if the river runs again since I'm fenced in? My sponsor says I shouldn't ask any question which starts with the word 'why'. You know my reply.
If my Higher Power has a plan...if it includes a river and a fence… if I'm in this plan, me, the rowboat…I just don't see it. Not seeing my purpose in life is a theme in my life says my sponsor. I don't tell her the theme in hers.
Truth is, I don't want to face the fact I might float away. Even though I'm supported by two big trees. Even though there is a tall fence all around me. Completely in spite of the fact THERE IS NO WATER! My Higher Power loves me. I am the boat.


Enjoy the flowers and slide on the snow.

*
It All Points to Joy


Can Love reweave the fabric which hate destroys?
Can Kindness resew the field
torn through with disregard?
Can Beauty paint the world anew
after so much ugliness has rained down upon us?

My heart believes these three cannot fail
to make things right
for what other point could there be than Joy?

Vlog: http://youtu.be/chEY7foQ0Eo

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-09-2014, 04:24 PM   #2476
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December 6

MOSAIC


I couldn’t prevent this plate from shattering, so I saved all the pieces, losing none. I laid them edge-to-edge and made a design, secured it with thin-set. Pieces of pattern framed with grout are seen, as they never could be when this dish was whole. I am part of this construction more than just handing china onto the table. Integrity has been lost but replaced with fractured openness. The plate has lost personal unity to become an ingrained part of my personal archeology.


Fly your kite in the wind.
*


The Way West


The sun reflected in the windows
winks at me as I fly over.
The plane climbs higher
and the reflected light no longer reaches me.

I slip from my eastern bonds.
I am west coast bound.
The carpet of snow was laid down
to quiet the passage.

Clouds take over the task,
then part to reveal the patchwork
of the middle ground.

We cross the Stateline without a sound;
a few more miles then touchdown.



Vlog: http://youtu.be/RQcqROgXhRY


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-09-2014, 05:32 PM   #2477
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December 7

ORIGINS


Pain-filled interactions with people better suited to be left alone changed me in the way of acceptance. Wretched relationships with people made it difficult for me to have a loving relationship with the world. I had imprinted as a fledgling on sarcasm and ridicule, bitter milk that starved my expectations of kind response. I could not greet the world eagerly. Having never embraced the world I failed to hang on as it turned. I slid on my face and hands. Mud covered, I try to keep an open mind and attempt a connection with this spinning orb.


Color your emotions.
*



Flight 548


What a happy flight wing to wing,
smiles, good cheer, the air is kind,
sweet, dry, easy to breathe.
I am so blessed.

I fly to destiny
watching the traveling baby circus
play around me.

Giggles and drool surround me,
infuse me with glee.
People wander the isle
looking like well loved characters
from long forgotten books and we soar.

Time does not pass any more quickly this way,
but it is similar to time in heaven
rather than time spent in hell.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/3cbyYoE_W-E

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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Old 12-09-2014, 06:09 PM   #2478
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December 8

THE WAY I DO IT


Cooking by smell, parking by ear, recovering by touch. The latter has to be done this way; I cannot see into the black-box technology, which keeps me sober. Feel through the resentments, pain, sadness, joy; find myself under a pile of rags with a match in my hand. The many times the steps have saved me from becoming a human torch are balanced by the weight of the rope, woven from these same rags, that together we use to drag one another to safety. The savory scent of a meal, or the glee of front row parking can’t compare with the tender sense of a sober heart.


Write bad advice on tissue and wipe with it.
*

Master Mind


I was taught that it was my job to master fear;
raised in a religion swearing they could master death.
I used to spend all I had trying to create a master plan,
while trying to keep secure using a Master lock.

I have seen Master & Commander
and do not long for that burden;
in fact mastery is so much a snare and illusion.

Life is quite improved
when we each have an oar and we all row on.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/J9IaheHYzsg

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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________________________________________________
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Old 12-09-2014, 06:38 PM   #2479
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December 9

CLIMBING ON THE ARC


If time swings and the seasons swirl and I pulse out my existence, why does the bird's wing flap and the rain fall down? If the song comes from my mother’s lips and my father tells his tales and I dance my heritage with each step I take, then why does the flower open to the bee and the swan trumpet her way home? If everything pulls from the ground and reaches for the light, then how can I duck my head, hide my heart and pass this all off as a coincidence? Am I less than the rain or greater than the swan? Why can’t I just climb on the arc and let the continuum spin its web around me? Well, you see I can, but will I?


Let little birdies speak.
*


What I give you

If I give you a piece of my mind,
a piece of my heart, a piece of my liver,
how do I go on in its absence?
Or does it ever leave me?

Is this more like an excision than segmentation?
Is it similar to how I carry you with me
when I catch a resentment; only in a good way?

I don’t know that I can be truly divided up,
but I do know that parts of me
don’t belong exclusively to me anymore
and I believe this is all for the better.



Vlog: http://youtu.be/o1vQoGu2yOU

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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________________________________________________
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Old 12-10-2014, 02:00 PM   #2480
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December 10

ELECTRIC CONNECTIONS


I step into a room and take its currency. Is the flow good? Steady? The pulse even and strong? Where are the power brokers and are they sharing the time or using their magnetic personalities to draw the current off others? I check the complement of resisters, examine their stripes and assess the possibilities. I pump in energy when I can and take when it is available. I keep in mind we are all transformers and change is possible for everyone as long as we make the connections.


Rich mistakes make good batter.
*



What’s that in the Pool?


Parts of the Rocky Mountains look like
algae bloom out in the Indian Ocean.
Parts of me look like parts of you
and here we go with oneness
being nothing more than
pattern recognition and optical illusion;
though I hope there is more to it than that.

My hurt might not be your hurt,
but I have a sense of it.
Likewise your hope may not resemble mine,
but it cheers you just the same
and we are all the better for it.

We needn’t replicate each other
or attempt imitation,
but recognition is a kind thing
and art is what we all have to share.


Vlog: http://youtu.be/ymX2yjLcpws

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
__________________
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Dragon Bait .........Hope you enjoy it!
________________________________________________
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