Conservative Happiness

I wonder sometimes if they all think,

process, imagine, find futile,

an effort to push a boulder aside.

I feel the clammy stone of a permanence,

both hands taking grip on a monstrous image,

finding the will,

and yet realizing it is not about strength

at all.

 

When forgiveness occurs, we do find a way,

to lean, to count upon, the girth

of our boulders will

hold us up, give us strength,

allow our hearts and mind to know

that though it will never go away,

sometimes the offer

is meant only to be stability.

 

I was walking along the beach the other day,

noticed,

the footprints in the sand,

I could tell by their depth and lift,

a certain happiness in the owner’s gait.

Perhaps a burden lifted

the illusion of the rock,

set aside for now to appreciate another day.

 

Rather than move or alter or deface,

I will continue to cleanse the porous response

the rock reminds us all,

there is a constant reminder,

in our eternity,

to live by a mistake,

is to recognize the beauty of our

humanity.

 

 

When Yesterday

When we start to think about

our yesterdays,

we get scared, well some, me, suppose

the words need only be self-directed,

if validity

is the goal of my game.

 

I contemplate my day before notions,

those of consequence and reward,

I try to recall the best, when especially drawn

into the abyss of the mess.

 

A hundred years ago, my embellishment

landed me in places I couldn’t defend,

only wished I had found a way to mend

the indifference,

self-righteous patterns of wanting everything,

my way, my game, my gamble, my favorite

addiction.

 

I lost at every step, remembering when leaving

fearing skid row might be my home address

in six weeks or less,

less the confidence, less the support,

lest I drag my ass out of the gutter and realize

there is a life ahead.

 

However, there is always the readiness,

not choice by personal desire,

but the savior whomever that might be in our lives,

the one and only,

Grace,

the epitome of letting go,

realizing we cannot, and will never need to do this on our own,

alone.

 

Yet today, I do think about my yesterdays,

and wonder if I might ever step away,

to enjoy the beauty of this,

namaste.

 

Lost Generation

Eleven Years

One year,

still seek solace,

though the smiles

all around the centerpiece

seem more welcoming,

more genuine,

who’s the real one now,

everyone laughs.

Year five,

more celebration,

no longer dragged away,

suggested change,

a new day,

let go of previous pains,

set forth with a personal gain,

slowly.

Year ten,

a gracious reality,

this is probably begun to work,

the effort a daily focus

layered upon good will,

a desire to stay

happy.

Eleven years,

still the same,

grateful.

So Long Ago

I can still stand there,

feel the pain,

realize just how close I can become

again.

Take a drink, the slow heat flow,

there’s a certain sense of clarity

that first drink blossoms a facade,

dropping money on a strangers table,

a release of tension,

letting go,

taking one day at a time.

There’s such a reversal in the hypocrisy

of denial.

I remember hope,

imagine having piece of mind,

in a couple of ounces of smooth.

All this euphoria,

the notion of escape,

a reality I chose to put away,

all of the fantasy with departure,

is standing right here,

ready to open the door to hell.

I Have This Friend

Cares about people,

sacrifice,

will go that extra,

sort of realizes the game,

wants little recognition,

doesn’t really need validation,

just wants a good sense of healing.

Sound familiar right,

the sort of ‘friend’ we sometimes envy,

not looking for a lot,

except the well-being of others –

sure there are accolades,

people love to be complemented,

yet,

seems clear to me,

this friend,

only supports the beauty of others,

those healthy moments,

epiphanies are a remarkable reality,

for that soul with compassion.

~

Have a friend like that?

I believe you do, I think we all know,

when we meet that sense of humility

long before entitlement.

I think we sometimes choose to cut down a fresh pine,

rather than allow the forest to grow …

I think we don’t realize just how naked we become.

Second Chances

We’ve all had them,

known them,

witnessed an account,

wondered about our own.

We delight in opportunity,

look for an opening

a way to move our ego

beyond that of nature’s

sacrificial lamb.

When witness to change

our actions become an exchange

for the former self

hoping an eventual transformation

might give our hearts pause,

beyond the scrutiny,

a lesser adamant cause,

to find peace,

imagine a world beyond

the ugliness of …

needing a chance.

Recovery is Truth

We might want to challenge,

our demons,

Perhaps we can manage

black ravens

in figurative form glancing upon our lives

while we do provoke

a resilient will, a desire to control, an impossible

passion to let go.

A society exists

makes rules

suggests mores

enlightens the soul

with truth

yet there are the waivers

a moment of freedom might easily

become the central torment;

only a clear mind, a thoughtful plan,

a willing participant in happiness,

will recognize the power in recovery.

It is that place

where

while the world continues

we step back,

learn to breathe again,

understand our truths need

inner strength,

help secure sanity,

letting go of crazy