Drinking Alcohol taught me how to fly
Then it took away the sky....

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Sobriety: Day 1

Posted in Dverse Poets Pub
Open Link Night #33



TUESDAY MORNING

Thinking later, I wondered,
was this what God meant
for today to be?

Early in the morning
We met, He and I
seemingly by accident

He looked terrible:
red-eyed, blue-faced
body shaking, smelling...
Another whisked him
to hospital. But before that
we spoke together

Maybe God meant for this!

Sober Peep:
How are you, man?
How's life for you?
Things going all right?
You been stayin' outta sight?”

He:
I can't not drink.
I really want to stop,
I'm just so sad.

I want to quit so bad
and just cannot
(alcohol and drugs)...

I been in the woods,
a tent and a fire
and trillions bugs

Last night it rained so hard
lightning, thunder
Everything I own,
radio and mobile phone
all watered under,
soaked, and me too.

Strong winds blew,
stakes all bent
down came my tent--
please, can you
tell me what to do?”

God, where ARE You?

No car, no bike
no money, no job;
no bed, he said
no nothing but that
feeling-in-the-gut...
Helpless....Hopeless.”

Does our God have a plan here?

All things, all people He sees.
Helpless and hopeless
sometimes will
bring us to our knees.

On my own recovery road
God sent several guys
with a message of hope.

--Until I finally realized
that alone and lonely
I, by myself only--
can not make it work.

I need WE!
Not ME!


Image; 
path_by_sarahzio
in DEVIANT

Sunday, February 26, 2012

SELF SUBVERSION



SABOTAGE

"Steve, you are your own worst enemy." These words I heard so many years ago. I knew their meaning, and yet I did NOT.

Directions I was given: put one foot in front of the other. It sounded easy. Well, it was not. I kept tripping over the foot in front. And falling/failing! I had misunderstood. What they had really told me was, “It is SIMPLE, not easy”...

So I had to be still and listen. To accomplish productive 'listening' is another “simple--but not easy” task, and for me takes practice. Being self-centered and ego-driven, the practice has never made 'perfect'.

Listening helps me also to 'keep my foot out of my mouth'--sometimes. And if it seems like I did something nice, I am learning to claim it--as God using me to do 'something nice'. Guess you'd say His Will. Understand, this behavior happens not NEARLY as often as I'd like

Daily, when a Peep is talking to me—like after a 7 AM meeting, I make it my business to give them attention, nearly undivided. It is still difficult, but progress is “my” word.

And...do you know, listening is coming to be FUN! And I'm LEARNING stuff! And I make FRIENDS!

Maybe that is why I really read your posts—when I get to them...and comment more than: “I liked that”, or “That was good”.
Love
PEACE
steveroni

While we are here...would you Peeps who have “word verification” enabled, please consider disabling it. Because Google has changed that step--complicated it—it takes longer to publish a comment than to write one, ya know? For us old guys, that is!   (I cannot leave here without at least one—grin!!!!)

Google Images

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

BUT PLEASE...NO BUNGEE!




ON THE EDGE

From earliest memory
the edge was his place
He could never among
the Peeps live in grace
happily

Outside...looking in..
with ne'er wish to be
anywhere else than
where he could see
smiles

behind him, harbors of safety.
Countless Peeps
meeting together to allay
discomfort of isolation...
desolation

Hanging on the edge, he said--
this where I want to stay,
the chill...
never to leave, to go away,
this thrill.

Excitement! His game name.
Afraid to miss something.
Busy leading the late crowd
long into night's black hole.
So tired!

Three or four hours' sleep
was enough for this Peep

Awake in predawn to flip
that Eastern light-switch..click!
Didn't miss a thing—up all night,
so, so very tired.

Pledge to live and tomorrow
move away from that ledge,
away from the edge of
sorrowful happenings
where he felt so safe.
Time--

minutes 'borrowed',
stolen from hours
which should have,
would have
been 'theirs'
been hers.

He--fearful of missing something,
ended to miss everything,
even that so dear.
Now so clear

No more bungee.
No, not for me....

steveroni

Posted for D'VERSE
OLN (Open Link Night) #32
3 PM est TUESDAYS
*Where's Yours!*

Saturday, February 18, 2012

I LOVE THOU, ART!



THOU ART INCLINED?

Several of the artists who blog here are just SO GOOD, they are on my permanent “Gratitude List” (Yes, it's written!) for the gifts they freely present on their blogs. One whose work and style I admire most is Ces Adorio.

Showing through the words on her art blogs—they are ALL art blogs!) are her personal philosophy, her prose, and Ces' thoughts of the moment...ALL GOOD! And her friends, mostly artists, you might meet first in their comments on her blog or Face Book pages.

When you click on her blog and follow some links—you WILL NOT be disappointed!

Below is a photo of nine 'squiggled' acorns, real nuts with real names, and their integral leaves. These nine ATCs (Art Trading Cards) I won in one of the contests Ces announces with some frequency—hmmm. That said a lot, “some frequency”?--grin!


 And here is sample of their names:


One last photo is of my “gallery”. If you really look, it is obvious that seven of the artworks are from Ces. The others are from Bella, Laura, and Cat (Asheville, NC). One is missing from this photo named LADY IN RED by Calli-Girl, my first artist blog-friend, several years ago.


How do I deserve these really REALLY fine gifts of friendship and love??? I do NOT! If we received gifts only when deserved, we would not even be born! Acceptance of a gift is twin-related to giving. So what do I give? I have not a clue, dear Peeps. So, day-by-day, we trudge this road of happy destiny to wherever it might lead. And share our talents, whatever they may be.

PEACE and BLESSINGS, Peeps.
...and JOY always!

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

GOD WHO?

GOD WHO?


Many years I searched for answers. Who is God? What does He do? What does God look like? How will I recognize Him. These and many more questions I asked, about God.

Said my teacher, “God is an Unknown, the Unknowable. Every statement about Him, every answer to your questions, is distortion of Truth.”

Bewildered, I then blurted out, “Then why do YOU attempt to speak about Him?”

"Why does a bird sing?” said my teacher. “Not because he wants to tell you something...he wishes to sing a song from his heart.

"The Scientist and the Scholar say words to be understood. 


Please, do not try to understand what your teacher says. Listen to my words as you might listen to the wind in the trees, the sound of the river and the song of the bird.

They will awaken something within your heart that is beyond all knowledge”.

Peeps, I've heard hundreds of birds singing and seen thousands of trees. When I looked at a tree I saw a tree, yet had not really seen the tree. When I can look at the tree and see a miracle—only then have I 'seen'!

My heart now fills with wordless wonder when I hear a bird in song.....thus opens a slight crack in the entrance to a room of Enlightenment. I understand this is nearly the opposite of desire for knowledge. Never before have I experienced this, since I was always busy searching...searching! 


Life has become better, more simple, happy. Even in some  adversities, I am beginning to discover JOY!

(To any curious: NO! I have not gone back to drinking and drugging, OK?--grin!)

P E A C E, PEEPS


Some of text from SONG OF THE BIRD
by Anthony De Mello

Image: GOOGLE images

Monday, February 13, 2012

VALENTINE POEM

SOMETHING ABOUT LOVE
--BUT NOT EVERYTHING!


When I was three
only you and me
a little girl
a little boy.
A little curl
a little toy.

My momma asked me later
"Your new playmate a girl, or a boy?"
Answer: “I couldn't tell.
Nell wasn't wearing clothes!”

Love? Maybe not--
but even as small tot,
sensitive to female
form, veil and folly.

Gave her a gift,
caterpillar sifting
itself through the sand.
And we held hands!

Another time, we 
exchanged with other
our chewed-up gum
(Shh! Don' tell mother!)

Love? Probably so--
but we had
to let go.
By this time I was five,
Nellie Jane, age nine
Funny how 
one remembers--
after
all
this
time

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

--steveroni


Posted for dVERSE POETS PUB


Open Link Night--Week 31
POST your piece beginning 3 PM est
Tuesday Feb 14, 2012

Image on Deviant:
happy_v_day_by_
saurers123-d4pmul5