| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 7:57:55 PM | .
I gave credence to the steps
the ones that told me I was out of control
they blessed me with a spirit to navigate
telling me, my insanity had come to the forefront
I asked my spirit to relieve me of the bondage of self
I promised to take my deliverance to all men
and when I contemplated inventory of my life
I became scared to twist in the wind
I begged myself clean over pots of folgers crystals
I pledged allegiance to smith and bob
and read until I could not see anything else
my salvation lies in peace within brotherhood
I played the numbers and understood 1 through 12
and when they mention finding enlightenment
I read only pages 1 through 164, the meat you see
not the stories at the end of the book
As a young lad I embraced the clubs and drank of my beans
I treasured and led, and offered my service
and in that I remained sober, and safe to start life
but the life I had remained cold and full of fear
I walked to a meeting one day and talked to my sponsor
he asked me what I was doing in my life
I told him I was busy living life, he asked me what I meant
I replied, "I've been to 18 meetings this week and it is only Tuesday"
He emphatically tossed burning embers in my face
and told me to go live life, and show what it meant to be sober
so I turned upon a dime and ran to the door
I was so scared I only submitted a beckoning upon the floor
As I sit here a mere 15 years later
I know of the truth you speak, but my door is shut
I lie motionless on the floor, only aware of protocol
the one that leaves me sitting naked and as newborn
I lost many in my 8 years of sobriety
I showed many my failings and they gave mercy
I know it works because I've seen the Lord confirm this
and until now I never considered why your dear Vernon died
But now I know the reason....
disease, dis-ease, and the fact that it never goes away
it never relents, it is cunning, baffling and so very powerful
and in that I wish for you to live to tell, of the wonder you found
Tenz
God Bless you Littlewind ( please share with your brothers ) | |
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| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 8:58:18 PM | Thank you Tenz...somehow I knew you were a brother from that road. My prayers are with you this night also. I am sure we have more miles to share!
I begged myself clean over pots of folgers crystals
I pledged allegiance to smith and bob
and read until I could not see anything else
my salvation lies in peace within brotherhood
Sometimes the dogma of the fellowship blots out the real path...thank you for sharing this with me. I will pass it on. | |
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Om
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Joined: 12/15/2006
Msg: 53 | |
| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 9:19:58 PM | geat thread you have going LW
Lovely poem, a prayer.. sorry eh.
Nice tenz!
if I may...
````````
The Voices Of Time
Listen.
Listen quietly.
You can hear the voices in the mist.
It carries the emotions of the history of man.
All the pain suffering anger regrets
The joys laughter
And happiness
So many neglect
If you listen real hard
You can hear the screams of gun-man falling from the sky
And you can hear the prayers and pleadings
Of accused, and old
About to die
And if you hear these voices
As I sometimes have
Be them said on land
Or through mist
At sea
You will hear in your heart
The voices of time
And the needs of man
To love
And be Free | |
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| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 9:39:45 PM | Glad you could join us Om...a fine addition.
You will hear in your heart
The voices of time
And the needs of man
To love
And be Free
It sure seems like more than ever we need to 'hear' each other. thanks for sharing that voice.
LW | |
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Om
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Joined: 12/15/2006
Msg: 55 | |
| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 9:58:55 PM | cheers LW, so true, sailor, love listen to your voice around the pond!
your last two in wooby's thread..wow | |
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| It works if you work it.....
Posted: 3/5/2007 10:01:16 PM | Blackly lit….
Mountains climb me at times…
Thus, becoming heavy I consume the shed of fountains….
Blackly lit, ambling through the mental black-forest…
I found wisdom rubies therein…
Hence, I pause;
And refurbish the blackly lit broken waves. | |
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| Blackly lit
Posted: 3/7/2007 5:40:41 AM | Welcome Apriorimonads:
nice to have you drop by...
Hence, I pause;
And refurbish the blackly lit broken waves.
fine lines indeed. I believe I know these broken waves...literally and metaphorically. Makes me long for spring and sailing.
LW | |
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| Dream Songs
Posted: 3/7/2007 5:49:37 AM | I think it is time for a little singing---
Mountain
There is a mountain
There is no fear
There is a mountain
There is no fear
There is a mountain
That has no name
And is so near
I can feel her
sweet breath
In falling snow
There is a mountain
There is no fear
LW | |
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| Dream Songs
Posted: 3/7/2007 6:03:09 AM | Riversong
Seventy miles by canoe
down
the Chatanika
twisting and swirling
down
through countless rapids
moose and beaver
three black bear
Eagles wear the air
thin
circling circling
We spill and plunge
and slip headlong
into mile-long-runnels
the rocks slick with
moss and wear
Birch sweepers
spraddle the channel
we backpaddle hard
sliding sideways
over rock and tree
and are
at last
free
LW | |
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| Dream Songs
Posted: 3/7/2007 2:02:59 PM | Last night I dreamt
And stayed awake
Paralysis crept over me
In panic I tried to wake
I know this tale of old
The lifeless land of dreams
Dark oppressive air
Nothing what it seems
I think I've woken
But it seems I haven't
And I wander round my room
Wonder where the door went
As I realise I'm asleep
I decide to take control
Visualise a big green hill
And in the wall I tear a hole
The hole becomes a window wide
I step up on the sill
And jump: to fly, to glide
Dream obeying my will
The dream shifts
And it takes a moment
For me to see
It's another dream I'm sent
Even as my eyes adjust
I determine to explore
Look around a kitchen
Find my cousin at the door
A strange dream, she leads me
Outside, holding hands
And working in the shrubbery
A familiar figure stands
Wild white hair in bouncy curls
A round figure dressed in red
Beautiful warm twinkling smile
There stands Nanna by the shed
A rush of joy to see her there
So absolutely real to me
Though I knew I dreamed
Clearer than conscious memory
Nanna died three weeks ago
And with each tear I shed
I told my heart to grow
To contain all she said
And all she did and was to me
Warmth and positivity
What her loving heart inspired
I made space to carry
And until I dreamed that dream
And stayed awake to see
I did not know, it would seem
How much of her memory
Love, strength and creativity
Is held vividly in me
My heart holds her now
Ever to inspire me | |
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| Dream Songs
Posted: 3/8/2007 8:13:35 PM | Welcome Rune:
From way across the big pond. I like your dream vision. Seems like so much is connected to dreams...asleep and waking.
And until I dreamed that dream
And stayed awake to see
I did not know, it would seem
How much of her memory
Love, strength and creativity
Is held vividly in me
very nice indeed.
LW | |
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| Dreams and Songs
Posted: 3/8/2007 8:22:16 PM | Gift
Your dreams have wings
ptarmigan live close
to the mother and
nuzzle the earth
Raven is the wise one
ancient wisdom
accidental creator of all
Geese bring joy
spring
love
The sea brings a shell
filled with waves
wild for the shore
She brings calico
a rainbow of color
for the spirit
All bound with moose hide
the strength of this land
given in friendship
given with love
LW | |
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| Dreamstuff
Posted: 3/8/2007 8:47:36 PM | Allorra
Allorra seemed to float through the heart of that dark night. She was the eye of the storm, the center of calm, surrounded by chaos. Her hair was dark as beaver, her eyes were smoke. The light moved around Allorra, distant and fearful. Darkness, a cloak around her, resisted the light and it never seemed to touch her anymore. The light was not her friend. This did not matter to her; the night and the starry sky to guide her; the silent white moon her sister.
The first time I saw Allorra she spoke of birds. She spoke of herons and marsh hawks, their shape and sweep of wing. She spoke of many birds. Some she called by name like old friends. There were others with distant sounds for names, far away places, with wings that could fly forever.
I watched her move as she spoke. Her hands seemed to come up from her sides as if taking flight. They would dart about her as she spoke of swallows skimming over a lake, or the steep sharp climb and swoop of a chimney swift. Hands and arms all akimbo, she seemed ready to launch herself as she whispered the whooping cranes. She seemed to grow smaller even as she spoke of their vanishing. I could see them then, in my mind, as she spoke of their return each spring, only to find marshes drained, fields plowed and fallow, their nests destroyed.
Then she would swoop into owlbeing as she spoke of the night and how she loved the evening sky just a moment after dusk. That dark light would reach into her eyes and rest there like a great horned owl perched in a tall spruce, waiting…
LW | |
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| Dreams and Songs
Posted: 3/8/2007 8:56:50 PM | thank you eaglewoman -- I am honored. It comes from the heart of an old Alaskan (did I just call myself old...must be someone else...LOL). I checked your profile, and I love the 'two wolves' piece. I try to pay close attention to which one I am feeding today.
LW
A Brush of Eagles
for: Carter Holden
At night I turn
off the lamp
and in the silence I hear
the brush of eagles
against a winter sky
LW | |
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| do your dreams include a broken brother?
Posted: 3/8/2007 11:30:30 PM | is there a dream left for me?
one that shows of all the colors of the rainbow
a statement making me breath deep
do they still have campfires where they talk of sobriety?
do you know if any of the leaders miss me?
I only wished to go live my life, but alas I'm a buried dream
can I come back to meetings and have anyone understand that I smoke medicinally?
I just want to be accepted........ but I need understanding
I'm tired of coughing up my drink of choice
can you tell me that I will be accepted?
I'm scared and lonely.......... and more than anything...............
I don't want to die
Nickey is too cute, and I just know he needs his Dad
Tenz | |
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| do your dreams include a broken brother?
Posted: 3/12/2007 11:17:27 AM | Tenz:
Only you can answer the hard questions...
s there a dream left for me?
one that shows of all the colors of the rainbow
a statement making me breath deep
do they still have campfires where they talk of sobriety?
I do know that the door is ALWAYS open. The only thing to do is walk through. Prayers for your journey.
Littlewind | |
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| do your dreams include a broken brother?
Posted: 3/12/2007 11:34:25 AM | March Prison Poem
It is March again Ron
Ninety seven inches of snow
Still on the Ground, and it is
Still eighteen below zero. I wake
To more fresh snow; I dream winter.
I received your letter, it said nothing,
It said everything. Can you see the
Mountains from your window?
Do you have a window?
Do you still play the guitar?
Have you seen spring?
A man once told me; on his way
From prison: 'poetry is truth...
The only way out of this place is
Truth, you wake one morning and
Know.'
All that booze and dope
It is the wall you cannot
Climb. It does not let us
Forget.
The truth I know is this;
I am clean today,
I am clean now for this day only,
You are clean today,
The real prison is inside.
From my window I see snow and winter;
From your window you see freedom,
Truth is the only real freedom,
It will not let us forget.
'littlewind' | |
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| dreaming
Posted: 3/12/2007 6:29:27 PM | And Salmon Rise
Twenty-one days downriver
And salmon rise
to my consciousness
dreamlike
Slide through layers of silt
Up to my net
thoughts grow
Fingers probe
Up the bellyslit
For viscera
reach
Take a life
perfection
LW | |
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| One Year
Posted: 3/14/2007 9:53:43 PM | One Year Following An Incident
Your twelve-stringed fingers are
Iroquois songs of witness and silence
Making me feel thirteen again, and beautiful
As my first wet-dreams.
Most of my days now are translucent and
Smoke-ringed, I am water-edged
and cabin-stiff, a dimestore Buddha.
Last night the oars struck the water
With dark sharp strokes, leaving you
In their darkness, and we saw the stars
For the first time, the perfect struggle
Of mind and spirit. | |
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| The Streetcars of Vesuvius
Posted: 3/15/2007 9:24:02 PM | The Streetcars of Vesuvius
She was old and bent and brown
her face was creased with the lines of endless
turnings of the seasons. her back was humped
and rose off her shoulders like a
great whale blowing off the coast
of British Columbia. she smelled of woodsmoke
and age. She smelled of the earth.
The land, that was her life.
In the spring the apple trees would bloom
overnight it seemed. In the morning it
would look like a sudden snowsquall had hit.
But only covering those three apple trees.
To the north the earth ran flat and dry,
to the tracks that carried the iron ore
from the mines. The tracks ran east,
the tracks ran straight and steel; an
endless vision of iron and steel.
The slag heaps growing daily,
hour after hour, the measure of
men’s lives in slag and iron and tonnage.
The earth ran red under the weight of steel,
and the dusty red smell was everywhere.
Only in the spring would I be saved
from the smell of ore dust. Only with
the spring rains and the swelling of
apple buds would I find myself open.
In my dreams the tracks ran on forever,
all of Delta county became an immensity of ore.
Then I would see her, a younger woman, stooped
in the heat of an early spring, her long black hair
braided and coiled on her head, the taste of ore-dust
in her mouth, planting apple trees.
LW | |
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| The Streetcars of Vesuvius
Posted: 3/18/2007 10:35:09 PM | A little tree sits and waits
Knowing the time to bloom
Not needing to push them out
Or hold them back on that day
It sits under the shade of another
That bloomed long before
The day he broke the ground
Each year the little one learned
Sheltered by the branches
Nurturing canopy
Given a chance to grow
Against all odds
The winters cold biting time
The canopy no longer hold
back the winds of change
Only time to grow to shine as bright
The little tree by her side
One day will shine as bright
Learning Loves lessons
Loving as much as he can | |
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| The Streetcars of Vesuvius
Posted: 3/19/2007 4:24:39 PM | Very nice crazytilting...
A little tree sits and waits
Knowing the time to bloom
Not needing to push them out
Or hold them back on that day
a fine analogy for the growing we all do. thanks for posting here.
LW | |
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