Dee74

Last part here:

http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...rt-6-a-21.html

D

DG0409

Thanks for the new thread, Dee.

Elseware

DG , A good cry is a blessing,
It gives the emotions free rein.
And it does bring on a lessening
Of life's black and blue, bitter pain.

So let the tears flow freely
Go on till you're all but cried out.
You'll feel better, really,
Find a smile where once was a pout

tootsl1

Dee I saw that when you closed
You did it with a wee short ode
With all the work and hours you do
You took the time, and praise is due
Come anytime you need to pen some prose!

tootsl1

DG dare I tell you straight
To take the path you're loathe to take
For now karma is paying
You for your delaying
An will until progress you make

You are aware what you ought do
And though it sits heavy on you
Time has long gone
For repairs to be done
Too many gaps, too little glue

And all you see now are those gaps
The ways in which you see his lapse
Grit your teeth and do it
You both will sure live thru it
And better for you both, perhaps

I feel now BFs goading you
To do what he hasn't guts to do
For now, you may part friends
Drag on? Past time to make amends
Life waits impatiently for you to start anew

Fear of change did not stop
You giving drink a loooong drop
Cigarettes, dope the boot
Don't even smoke cheroot
Now time to continue with the crop

Strength honey, my words come from my love for you. Xx

courage2

In years gone by, this city did I range,
Street drugs I bought from people who were strange
In rat-infested parks and corner lots,
And took what came from men who bought me shots.
Bars were to score. I will not glamorize
The party scene some folks romanticize
(In AA rooms sometimes I hear them brag)
For me the clubs were mostly just a drag --
I did what I wanted, rode the ride
With sordid characters I met inside,
In filthy toilet stalls, with crashing noise,
When I was young and buying from the boys.
And when it rode me over, then I tried
To wish my acts undone. In vain I cried.

tootsl1

To wish a life unlived, cannot be done
For to do so would to be to rewind time
And you would be who you were then
And live through hell all over again
Life is not a circle, it's a line

But Courage from you history you glean
A hope to offer those as yet unseen
You have much to offer some
Who as yet have not this far come
But with your wisdom could begin to dream

That for them a future could appear
Where they will find love and hope and cheer
Where they are not judged by those who care
Because we see beyond the person they are there
And see a life to live without defeat and fear

Strength has roots run deep in past pain
Tears and strife and yearning seem insane
But in this past grew
The kernel of a stronger you
Whose future shows you have so much to gain

courage2

The lesson of self-rule run rampant.

Toots you amaze me! Have a great Sunday and stay off the streets of Boston tonight & tomorrow -- or go out & be prepared to be horrified.

Elseware

Oh, that's right: it's the time of the green drunkards......yes, let's all stay inside. (Shudder)

zerothehero

Speaking of, I had been invited to perform for Patty's Day (I actually know some Irish folk tunes and play other stuff). I wasn't sure if I should say yes when I first got the invitation, but it turns out they partied all weekend and decided to bag the Monday event. Yippee! I get to stay home (though I would have made a couple hundred bucks).

zerothehero

I played on Patty's Day last year at a brewpub. Late night I performed this song after MANY beers. It was beautifully horrifying on multiple levels. The crowd was not too pleased, and started screaming for another round of Finnegan's Wake. But one lass was sobbing at the bar. I hope it struck deep enough a nerve to dry her out.

God Loves a Drunk (Richard Thompson)

Will there be any bartenders up there in Heaven?
Will the pubs never close, will the glass never drain
No more D.T.'s and no shakes
And no horrors
Very next morning you feel right as rain

O God loves a drunk, the lowest of men
With the dogs in the street and the pigs in the pen
But a drunk's only trying to get free of his body
And soar like an eagle high up there in heaven
His shouts and his curses are just hymns and praises
To kick-start his mind now and then
O God loves a drunk, come raise up your glasses, amen

Does God really care for your life in the suburbs
A dull little life of dull little things
And bring up the babies to be just like Daddy
And maybe you'll be there when He gives out wings

But God loves a drunk, although he's a fool
He wets in his pants and he falls off his stool
He can't hear the insults and whispers go by him
As he leans in the doorway and sings Sally Racket
Can't feel the cold rain beat down on his body
And soak through his clothes to the skin
O God loves a drunk, come raise up your glasses, amen

Will there be any pen-pushers up there in Heaven?
Does clerking and wage-slaving win you God's love
I pity you worms with your semis and pensions
If you think that'll get you to the kingdom above

But God loves a drunk, although he's a clown
You can't help but laugh as he gags and falls down
He don'T give a cuss for what people think of him
He screams at his demons alone in the darkness
He's staying alive for just one more pint bottle
Won't you throw him few pennies, friend
God loves a drunk, for ever and ever, amen
--------------------------------------------------------

I'm relieved I won't be performing that or anything else tomorrow. I am booked for April in a museum. That will be different. I am so used to playing for drunks. They tend to be easy to please, though.

tootsl1

Anther I'm not sure where to post as it is a poetic song and a celebration of all things Irish enjoy!
The Dubliners - The Sick Note - YouTube

Elseware

The wind chimes tinkle with the stiff midnight breeze
There's something irrevocably sad
Melancholy, frightening and bogie man bad
About that sound. It creeps me out and makes my heart cringe.
I whimper. I cry. And softly I whinge
I shiver and whisper my prayer for today. Oh, make it stop, if you so please!

That's all I got. Insomnia makes even the most mundane creepy and forlorn.

tootsl1

The old house breathes and settles, rafters creak,
I lie with comforter drawn up, did a stair just squeak?
A skittering sound by the door
Works it's way along the floor
Oh man, now I have to get up and take a leak!

Elsie I sympathise, I spent a lot of nights alone in our Victorian house which rustled squeaked and creaked all night long! Hope you got some sleep. X

zerothehero

Three years last week when my father died.
I remember that Paddy's Day, too pissed to cry.
Angry at him and appalled at my life.
**** drunk in a boring bar ranting and rife
With regrets and betrayals and lies and deceit,
I sucked down the Dew til I could scarce find my feet.
Half heart failure half suicide; we'll never know,
But he'd nowhere to turn and was ready to go.
In retrospect, anger should not have put me to bed,
Upon acceptance and forgiveness I should have fed.
Tis all water under the bridge now; ain't that what they say?
Tears well in my eyes, but I'm sober today.

Elseware

I am sleeping every other night, it's weird
I wonder if I should be a bit scared
Every other day seems sorta zoned
I hope other people don't think that I'm stoned.
This is a strange pattern
I'm laying around much like a slattern
My mind is muddy and decidedly fuzzy
And my teeth, yuck, they're kinda scuzzy.
I'll need to drink coffee all day.
And you know what they say
Caffeine another, most vicious pest
Just the same as all the rest.
It's a schedule I need
One without too much fuss, I can heed.
A new task ahead
I see where this has led.

DG0409

Last night I too had problems with sleep
Now I feel more like a clothes heap
Than a real person breathing and alive
If only I could crawl back in bed for another five

Lately I just feel grouchy and down
Need to tell bf I don't want him around
But instead I'm meek when I need to be bold
I'm sure my complaining is getting old
Even I can barely still stand the sound

tootsl1

Zero I know of the need to
Drown sorrow rather than deal
And knowing that is is wrong
Doesn't alter the appeal

For hating yourself doesn't help
To change way we deal with life
For then we believe we are worth nothing more
And deserve all the pain and strife

But now you see how things were
For your father as well as yourself
And you see a better way now to cope
For physical and mental health

tootsl1

Elsie perhaps you need to
Find something daily to do
Have you a dog
Or could you perhaps jog
Or draw pictures to hang in the loo

Get up every day the same time,
Even if you feel like you're hung on a line
Write up a plan
Or ravish the old man
And switch coffee for soda and lime

DG you are near at the place
You will be ready to look bf in the face
And say, 'sorry, no more'
Waving him out the door
You are reaching that point at your pace.

courage2

Three problems have I that I fear to face:
One is a drug my doctor has prescribed,
No harm if not abusively imbibed
But how long will that be the case?
Another one’s as simple as a pack
Of cigarettes, a silly sometime tool
For keeping me away from the barstool,
Yet I don’t need that monkey on my back.
The third’s someone I’ve been involved with long
In complicated ways hard to undo,
With whom to self and others I'm untrue,
Pretending that I don’t know right from wrong.
I won’t be sober till these three are mended,
And harm I do to mind and body ended.