Sobriety Limericks and Poetry Part 9
Living and Loving Life at Last
Join Date: Aug 2012
Location: gods own country
Posts: 12,164
I'm feeling fed up and demotivated
The weather is shite- it could be related
Even the dog
Won't go for a jog
Some sun would have us both enervated
I've a zillion jobs in the garden to do
Least is uplifting a week of dog pooh
Leaves on the lawn
A hedge to be shorn
Yet I sit in frustration and stew
Though a secret here I will tell
I have indoor jobs to do as well
Cupboards to clean
Windows to gleam
And yet in my bed still I dwell
For thought and action remain
Two seperate deeds in my brain
I'm lethargic and low
Have no get up and go
I'm blaming dull dreich skies and rain.
The weather is shite- it could be related
Even the dog
Won't go for a jog
Some sun would have us both enervated
I've a zillion jobs in the garden to do
Least is uplifting a week of dog pooh
Leaves on the lawn
A hedge to be shorn
Yet I sit in frustration and stew
Though a secret here I will tell
I have indoor jobs to do as well
Cupboards to clean
Windows to gleam
And yet in my bed still I dwell
For thought and action remain
Two seperate deeds in my brain
I'm lethargic and low
Have no get up and go
I'm blaming dull dreich skies and rain.
Do your best
Join Date: Aug 2014
Posts: 67,047
It is what is and it is what it was.....crazy thoughts a raging war open windows and closing doors
I love this this new life someone flicked on a flashlight i clicked on to signs and realised i must try
Cos it really is do or die and im wondering why i used to get high & how i got by & why did i lie
it was there all along its the same old song i was just there dancing along im glad its been 16 months of me being strong 16 months of fun
5 mins till im officially 16 months sober
I love this this new life someone flicked on a flashlight i clicked on to signs and realised i must try
Cos it really is do or die and im wondering why i used to get high & how i got by & why did i lie
it was there all along its the same old song i was just there dancing along im glad its been 16 months of me being strong 16 months of fun
5 mins till im officially 16 months sober
waking down
Join Date: Dec 2013
Posts: 4,641
i checked my calendar today
because i'm still alive
turns out that i've been sober now
three hundred twenty five
and that's an awful lot of days
in this obstacle course
of a booze-fueled sick society
that won't take me by force
i wouldn't put the wrong petrol
in my silly little car
so why would i fill my gut
in some seedy downtown bar
and that goes for food as well
all that poison at the store
it's hard to know just what to eat
our farms are waging war
it's odd when folks deride their friends
for treating themselves well
the body is a sacred vessel
as far as i can tell
it's all we have until it's gone
yet mine was so abused
some parts could use replacement
if i could buy them new or used
a shoulder or a hip
or maybe even my heart
a completely rebuilt engine
start taking me apart
i'm not completely totaled
though i've been in quite a wreck
i'm glad i haven't lost an eye
or had a broken neck
but though my body weakens
i have a stronger mind
i'm tired of beating myself up
i'm learning to be kind
each generation has to learn
the same lessons as the last
and each just makes the same mistakes
not listening to the past
youth is wasted on the young
is that not what they say
if i knew then what i know now
would i be here today
but what is done is done
and what will be will be
a life once lost has just begun
twas blind but now i see
because i'm still alive
turns out that i've been sober now
three hundred twenty five
and that's an awful lot of days
in this obstacle course
of a booze-fueled sick society
that won't take me by force
i wouldn't put the wrong petrol
in my silly little car
so why would i fill my gut
in some seedy downtown bar
and that goes for food as well
all that poison at the store
it's hard to know just what to eat
our farms are waging war
it's odd when folks deride their friends
for treating themselves well
the body is a sacred vessel
as far as i can tell
it's all we have until it's gone
yet mine was so abused
some parts could use replacement
if i could buy them new or used
a shoulder or a hip
or maybe even my heart
a completely rebuilt engine
start taking me apart
i'm not completely totaled
though i've been in quite a wreck
i'm glad i haven't lost an eye
or had a broken neck
but though my body weakens
i have a stronger mind
i'm tired of beating myself up
i'm learning to be kind
each generation has to learn
the same lessons as the last
and each just makes the same mistakes
not listening to the past
youth is wasted on the young
is that not what they say
if i knew then what i know now
would i be here today
but what is done is done
and what will be will be
a life once lost has just begun
twas blind but now i see
Member
Join Date: Aug 2013
Location: Oregon
Posts: 4,252
Zero, your poem is wonderful
It speaks directly to my heart
You're such a fine man
Zero, your poem is powerful
It tells a story from the start
Tears welled up and ran
Zero, I don't know any men (including my husband) who are able to express themselves as you do. I appreciate your words here on sober recovery more than you know. I look forward to your poems and haiku so much.
It speaks directly to my heart
You're such a fine man
Zero, your poem is powerful
It tells a story from the start
Tears welled up and ran
Zero, I don't know any men (including my husband) who are able to express themselves as you do. I appreciate your words here on sober recovery more than you know. I look forward to your poems and haiku so much.
Member
Join Date: Jan 2013
Location: New England, USA
Posts: 3,958
Cruel words once spoken
A selfish past action
From way back when
In my heart still has traction
Harder to let go
Than it is to grieve
Easier to blame
Than to forgive
I don't want to love
He who doesn't love me
Who chooses wine and beer
Instead of life that's lovely.
I don't know how to do this
Completely all alone
Afraid to pull the trigger
Yet wounded to the bone.
A selfish past action
From way back when
In my heart still has traction
Harder to let go
Than it is to grieve
Easier to blame
Than to forgive
I don't want to love
He who doesn't love me
Who chooses wine and beer
Instead of life that's lovely.
I don't know how to do this
Completely all alone
Afraid to pull the trigger
Yet wounded to the bone.
p***enger
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: NYC
Posts: 19,025
You, wild child that flung your arms wide and high,
reckless, and taunted grown men and girls alike.
They don’t make them like you anymore.
If you could be swept up in that whirlwind again,
propelled, with all your affectations
down Avenues headlong into madness,
thinking one lover an angel, the next
a new Rimbaud, would you trade sanity
for the tempest twice?
Now the winds are mild.
You’re a fool, confused and querulous,
gathering flotsam on the storm-strewn beach.
reckless, and taunted grown men and girls alike.
They don’t make them like you anymore.
If you could be swept up in that whirlwind again,
propelled, with all your affectations
down Avenues headlong into madness,
thinking one lover an angel, the next
a new Rimbaud, would you trade sanity
for the tempest twice?
Now the winds are mild.
You’re a fool, confused and querulous,
gathering flotsam on the storm-strewn beach.
waking down
Join Date: Dec 2013
Posts: 4,641
fools are most free with advice
and i suffer their babbling out of feigned respect
appearing to be listening
i'm focused on the air passing through my nostrils
if i weren't breathing i might be punching
but i'm a pacifist more or less
still i make a fist and close my eyes
so they can't see them rolling
compassion and loving-kindness
and patience of yes patience
but my thoughts are not always so nice
for fools who are so free with advice
and i suffer their babbling out of feigned respect
appearing to be listening
i'm focused on the air passing through my nostrils
if i weren't breathing i might be punching
but i'm a pacifist more or less
still i make a fist and close my eyes
so they can't see them rolling
compassion and loving-kindness
and patience of yes patience
but my thoughts are not always so nice
for fools who are so free with advice
Glee
Living and Loving Life at Last
Join Date: Aug 2012
Location: gods own country
Posts: 12,164
Glee it's tough to give your love
To one who once fit like a glove
But now despises
Tells drunken lies
Feeling like a trapped caged dove
Unable to soar and fly free
To live the life in you mind you see
Clipped wings keep you
Love once felt true
No longer now the man he used to be
To love one who loves another
Is to feel a love being smothered
Who can compete
With vodka neat?
And eventually wondering...why bother
Give love only to those you know
Will blossom in your love, and grow
A weed will flourish
Without you to nourish
So feed the souls that still love you so
And leave the weed to find its own
And one day it may well have grown
Straight and true
Seeks sun, in blue
And no longer wants to be alone
Or may straggle weak in shade
Feeble roots, Suns rays evades
Not your choice
To keep weed moist
From seed to weed, choice was made
To one who once fit like a glove
But now despises
Tells drunken lies
Feeling like a trapped caged dove
Unable to soar and fly free
To live the life in you mind you see
Clipped wings keep you
Love once felt true
No longer now the man he used to be
To love one who loves another
Is to feel a love being smothered
Who can compete
With vodka neat?
And eventually wondering...why bother
Give love only to those you know
Will blossom in your love, and grow
A weed will flourish
Without you to nourish
So feed the souls that still love you so
And leave the weed to find its own
And one day it may well have grown
Straight and true
Seeks sun, in blue
And no longer wants to be alone
Or may straggle weak in shade
Feeble roots, Suns rays evades
Not your choice
To keep weed moist
From seed to weed, choice was made
waking down
Join Date: Dec 2013
Posts: 4,641
her corpse lies lifeless cold and pale
always chubby now seemingly bloated
white linen hiding the caterpillar cuts
she would often proudly display
shoulder to wrist and ankle to hip
awaiting burial or an oven's flames
i wasn't much of a brother to her
lost in my own stumbly journey
i a rag in the wind
she a source of darkness
blonde hair dyed raven
we were never close
i wouldn't let her
she was from another mother
who stole my father from mine
and all her babies
she just kept having babies
where are they
lost to the system
scooped up by distant family
those saints who volunteer
to raise another's meth child
and what could i have done
living in distant states
i could have listened at least
or called once in awhile
sent a card or a text
tried to help somehow
intelligent and creative
thoughtful too thoughtful
with thoughts that led to suicide
how did she do it
what was the last straw
her new husband
and their baby
didn't bring the joy she sought
i learned this morning in a text
her name and four more words
committed suicide on sunday
shock then guilt then tears
and more guilt
when did we last speak
when father died
6:40 A.M. when the text sent
while i meditated by the fire
embracing gratitude
enjoying the warmth
content to simply breathe
curing myself of suffering
while she lies dead by her own hands
society gone mad
no meaningful anchors for most
fairytales too easily rejected
arbitrary morality or amorality
lonely in a crowded world
magic sought in medicine
medicine for damaged minds
deadly medicine
i heal myself
to heal the world
selfish yet selfless
caring no longer careless
because suicide serves as
life's fiercest slap in the face
always chubby now seemingly bloated
white linen hiding the caterpillar cuts
she would often proudly display
shoulder to wrist and ankle to hip
awaiting burial or an oven's flames
i wasn't much of a brother to her
lost in my own stumbly journey
i a rag in the wind
she a source of darkness
blonde hair dyed raven
we were never close
i wouldn't let her
she was from another mother
who stole my father from mine
and all her babies
she just kept having babies
where are they
lost to the system
scooped up by distant family
those saints who volunteer
to raise another's meth child
and what could i have done
living in distant states
i could have listened at least
or called once in awhile
sent a card or a text
tried to help somehow
intelligent and creative
thoughtful too thoughtful
with thoughts that led to suicide
how did she do it
what was the last straw
her new husband
and their baby
didn't bring the joy she sought
i learned this morning in a text
her name and four more words
committed suicide on sunday
shock then guilt then tears
and more guilt
when did we last speak
when father died
6:40 A.M. when the text sent
while i meditated by the fire
embracing gratitude
enjoying the warmth
content to simply breathe
curing myself of suffering
while she lies dead by her own hands
society gone mad
no meaningful anchors for most
fairytales too easily rejected
arbitrary morality or amorality
lonely in a crowded world
magic sought in medicine
medicine for damaged minds
deadly medicine
i heal myself
to heal the world
selfish yet selfless
caring no longer careless
because suicide serves as
life's fiercest slap in the face
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
