Thought Pasture

                                  The open door caught her eye. Well, she thought of it as an open door. It was actually an opening in a tree. The dogs seemed particularly interested in it. She went over to take a look. The snow was still on the ground, but inside the tree it was dry. And there were, what looked like a collection of sticks and rocks. But not just any rocks and sticks. As she began to pick them up and look at them they all seemed to have a story. The first one she picked up was a stick, just a piece of what in the ocean would be driftwood. But this one looked like a rabbit. You know with tall ears and a protruding nose. And it was funny or ironic or just plain curious or serendipity because it was Easter Sunday. Seriously what are the odds? An Easter Rabbit.   She picked up a rock t...

­­­ Emily cringed. “There but for the grace of god”? Really Michael, she thought. Ever since she started going to A.A. meetings he just couldn’t help finding some way to throw it back at her and demean the progress, structure, friends and peace she had found. He even went to some meetings to see “what it was all about”, he said. God she hated him sometimes. Smug bastard, I could kill him in his sleep, she thought. It would be so easy. But they had been together this long. And he wasn’t all bad. He did have his charm. And he meant well. It was just he was such a prickly ass sometimes. Like several weeks, after the incident in the woods, that he had come home one Saturday gushing. “She’s one of you. That woman in the woods. The muddy dogs. The leashes, or lack there-of, more accurately and the attitude. Oh my god she’s one of you.” What are you talking about? Said Emily. “I was doing some research on your program and I saw her.” My program. Said Emily. What is ...

Michael Hellion arrived home with his empty stainless steel coffee mug/thermos and freshly stained khaki pants. What happened said his wife Emily. Oh you wouldn’t believe the most unpleasant women and her pack of muddy curs I had the misfortune to encounter on my walk-about. Your pants Michael. What happened said Emily.   Well there I was walking in the woods down a simply lovely path toward a creek crossing when; not one but three large unruly dogs came charging up towards me. Not a leash on any of them. And I’m surprised they even had collars. In any case the prime offender was this muddy ragamuffin of a dog who jumped up onto my new Khakis. I can’t believe it. I just bought them for the trip and this happens. Well he was about to come at me again when I put my hands off to ward off another assault. It was then I saw her.   “Mr. Hamilton” she called out. She was a disheveled hulk of a woman with simply awful sack-ish jeans and a filthy old black nearly brown-gray j...

I thought it was Aaron and his dog Jack coming down the path. So when the dogs ran back up the hill I thought nothing of it. But it wasn’t Aaron and Jack. It was some other guy with khaki pants and a stainless steel coffee mug/thermos. His khaki pants had the muddy print of Mr. Hamilton’s paws. He put his hand out to keep Mr. Hamilton from jumping up again. “Hamilton” I said as I bent to corral the muddy curly floppy mess that was the 10 month old golden doodle Mr. Hamilton. He looked more like a Muppet than a dog really. “I’m sorry about that” I said. I felt guilty for what Hamilton had done and for what I had failed to do. “It isn’t what I expected” said the man. I could sense his disdain. “I’m sorry” I said again, “I’ll pay to have them cleaned.” “No” he said “what’s done is done. But I’m quite sure there is an ordinance that they are supposed to be on a leash.” It seemed like he was going to say “and the next time I see them they had better be or I’ll make a repor...

I am so very grateful that you sat in that room Broken, worn and sad Because I understand that I feel that I feel you putting up a bold defiant face All the while thinking, praying saying Don’t hurt me And hiding the hurt Cutting it off so it can’t cut me Pierce me with pain Save me Saviour Help me Love me Hold me Whole me Fill in the hole in me Free me Hear me Know me No Me US Whole No more empty Empty me Gone Play with me Wanna play Me too I wanna play

Family Portrait the Line Up A family picture A line up All wearing the same shirt All holding hands But look closer Patrick, the eldest stands alone hands behind his back The youngest, Maura, a bit sour, wearing undies with a diaper underneath Looking off                                                                                  But holding on Tight to her brother Tyrone Tyrone with the sweet smile and loving heart Turned slightly toward her The eldest girl Deirdre tucking her left hand behind her back Putting on a smile Eyes closed Her ri...

STORM I called the storm And marveled when it arrived I called the storm and took shelter I called the storm And cursed the havoc it wreaked I called the storm I held on I hid I tried to make myself too small for it to find me But it found me Pounded me Left me in a heap Gasping Praying Pleading Then it cleared There was calm I forgot how weak I was Then I called the storm

The Chase Ingested inhaled injected, imbibed A m ood enhancer, just to relax, j ust play Ingested inhaled injected, imbibed Pain relief, an escape, a hiding place Ingested inhaled injected, imbibed Pain  No relief, no escape The Chase  is on The search for the cure   That, used to be enough  The Chase is on Now, it demands   Now, it controls Now WE, are lost     Disappearing. The Chase is on    No relief      Just deception

Happy Easter from the Bunny Trail

Impenetrable? darkness,  pierced by light transforms to a beacon for those still suffering souls Naked  in the waters of redemption I implore you to let me in don't let go Faith that whatever comes forth will be as it shall be My truth the key to my release My burden broken open exposed to light Over 30 years in the making I was afraid And afraid to admit my fear It controlled and propelled me to near ruin But I wanted to live I looked in the mirror at what I had become and I cringed This was not me Where was I I wanted to live I didn’t want my life back I wanted to live

Little Mr. Bridge Mittens could not believe his good fortune. You see, little Mr. Bridge Mittens was snuggled in a soft green hand knitted receiving blanket. A blanket woven just for him. And he was being held in the most loving embrace by his new mother, Ann. She was gentle, warm and soft. And her heartbeat was so very comforting for little Mr. Bridge Mittens. This was not exactly the life he had imagined for himself. He was born in a barn to an unwed mother. His father had no thoughts of taking care of him or his sister Olive. But fate took a hand. His birth mother was found by a nice lady who took them all in. She loved them but she couldn’t raise them all. So, she set out to find homes for Bridge and his siblings. Well fate is not always kind. Sometimes, for new love to grow there is loss. Such loss happened to Ann, little Mr. Bridge Mittens’ new mom. Ann’s sweet gentle loyal cat Chloe crossed the Rainbow Bridge to heaven just befor...

Leslie's Prayer Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the lord my soul to keep And if I wake before I die I pray the lord my soul to fly  

                                                 Leaf Blower The steroidal jagged buzz of the leaf blower stabbed at her ears. Again, and again like some horror movie. God she hated them. Again and again. Would it ever end? For god sake, it’s good enough. Stop already. There he was across the street. Holding it like some gangster with a tommy gun. Really Tommy gun what year is this. But I digress. There he was out in front of Mrs. Conti’s small white house. Seriously, how long could it take to finish. The whir seemed endless. And though she was fortified with a bottle of red wine she couldn’t just go to the backyard or upstairs on the deck to get away. No, it was everywhere. Maybe if I talked to him sh...

Garbage Day She heard the garbage truck as it made its familiar rumble outside. “OH FUCK”.  You could hear her cry throughout the house. Jennifer had just settled in for the morning visit to the bathroom and was sitting on the throne. It was raining lightly and thirty-five degrees. Barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a light top Maura burst out the kitchen door and ran down the driveway waving her arms. Flailing her arms really like some giant air balloon outside a business trying to get the attention of the garbage man. Can I bring my barrels down? Can I bring my barrels down?  A yellow raincoat covered arm and orange capped head leaned out of the truck window and nodded. Thank you she said. She turned and ran up the driveway back to the trash barrels.  She grabbed the tilted both up onto their wheel and rolled them gratefully down the driveway. She stood proudly as the truck raised the barrels.  First the recycling then the regular ga...

Easy You make it look so easy. She said It’s not easy. It may be simple but it is not easy. Today has been a struggle. I go back and forth. I am angry at what I perceive as a lack of attention and respect. I don’t want to drink but I’ve had too much to think and it is pulling me back and forth. I’ve tried to distract myself with chocolate, cheese, Triscuits and coffee. But there is a deeper desire. A craving for intimacy. A passion postponed. I don’t even comprehend the need. But there is a need, desire, desperation. And the fight to say no. No to the quick fix. Actions have consequences. What really is the need? A glimpse of a prospect? A glimpse of how life can be? Now, like some sack has been thrown over possibility. Like running back and forth on a teeter totter trying to seek equilibrium. I am not comfortably numb.

The Egg-maker I used to eat eggs every morning for breakfast And every morning my mother would ask me What do you want for breakfast? And every morning I said eggs Until one morning she asked me What do you want for breakfast? And I said don’t you know what I want and she said How do I know if you don’t tell me? The next morning, she asked me what I wanted for breakfast I said pancakes She died My father and brother have never forgiven me for killing the egg-maker

Recovery If you are new to recovery I have some advice Go to the meetings and follow the steps Footwork as my sponsor would say and get a sponsor Be honest with yourself and listen to what people are sharing They are sharing their stories They share their lives It is a privilege so be respectful of everyone Listen for what resonates within Read the big book You will be surprised at how familiar some of it sounds And say the serenity prayer Over and over And mean it It helps And read the third step prayer Release your ego Tell the voice in your head To fuck off. Bad company corrupts good character. And that voice is bad company. And breathe                                                ...

Dinner Party At the dinner party I was noticing the wine bottles and the liquid in the glasses. I thought I am NOT in that bottle. All that I am The good and the bad The fabulous and the flawed Is in me Any emotion or phrase I might utter while intoxicated Is in me I don’t need alcohol Nor can I use alcohol as an excuse For my actions or my words Somewhere within me Good and bad It is there Perhaps lying dormant Before being stirred by alcohol Or other drugs But it is there The dullard the diva the bitch the brilliant All there