story with no ending
by Joe Brower on Sunday, September 19, 2010 at 5:52am
These things I see.
These trinkets of you.
My mind hides you in plain sight.
In the ground your roots lay.
My words sprout you in whatever I say.
I don't deserve you.
My mind begs to differ.
You're blind to me.
And my thoughts.
They Try to grow you into me.
They ask for you by name.
Whose to blame?
I'm out of games.
I will not hide it any longer.
reject me in plain sight.
So the secrets that grow inside me can be silenced.
I don't deserve the thoughts of you.
Or your kind.
I always seem to find you.
You bind a part of me that does not sleep.
Your effects inflict me.
The look you have dissect me.
Resurrects me.
The King does not bow,
Nor does he kneel to anyone.
But to you,
I would Unplug my hate.
disinfect my malice.
send away my fate,
steal my own balance,
Open my gates,
and rearrange whatever estate I possess.
The bloodlust would not boil anymore.
Can I just show you?
Just tell you the silent scream?
My silent scream?
Why I stay with a watchful eye.
I understand why I bare this untold story.
Or this unstarving hunger.
A sun among flames.
This ship unplundered.
The death I caused still as clear as day.
The start to my cold.
If I may inquire to say.
A story of our love finally told.
I died by my sword that day,
With my flail I broke us myself.
A brink of bursting red blood stained love.
My chance at it fleeting into the abyss.
From such a point,
A blink in time.
My story started to grow inside.
The redemption excessive in size.
My decendance on the rise.
When you read this,
The words staring at you.
Don't assemble the hate that drives you to mock my words.
I have more hate.
Any debate would lose to me.
Think of the feelings that want you to hate.
The weaknesses that still grab onto me.
You can ignore it if you wish.
But in the end, would you want them to always tear at you?
That is correct.
You bare an untold story as I do.
Yours tells of the future,
Mine in the past.
When will they end?
I don't know.
As bright as day I see you.
Do you see me in the same light?
Your story does.
Your tale wants a happy ending.
The most distrusting, hateful hearts love the hardest.
My Heart is below absolute zero.
Yours bares a story that must have an ending.
And must be told.
No one else can give you what you seek.
Trust me enough to tell your story.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My name is not important, but my
story sure is.
I look grown outside, but yet I am
still a kid.
At one point in my life I was down
and under.
All of my problems reminded me of
thunder.
They hit without warning and there
was no cover.
My ears would hear but they would
not see
the true problems hidden deep inside
of me.
I would take medication to make the
storm stop
but I could never manage to get
myself back on top.
The Liquor gave me height and drugs
gave me speed.
Some kind of monster had taken hold
of me
All I lived for was my next fix.
Even though inside I made myself
sick.
I use my knowledge to keep it
undercover
In hopes that no one would discover.
It got harder and harder to consol
So I took more and more so I could
deal.
You say you cant trust me and you
locked me up
So I thought it was just bad luck.
I had a few friends who died along
the way
But I was smarter, I knew the game.
Years pass by and nothing was tamed.
All I worked for had went down the
drain.
Soon or later you will give in,
But yet I would rather just sin.
How much longer could i remain?
They said find God and he will save
you,
"You should be blessed for all he's
gave you."
Gave me I said? Well, he's gave me
nothing!
"You not dead and that sure is
something!"
I closed my eyes and opened them to
see
Where I went was recovery
But while I was there I soon
discovered.
I had an addiction and it was not
fiction.
I found a sponsor who told me a
secret,
"You can never use again and your
sobriety, keep it!
Find a higher Power and that is your
ticket. It's your
HP so you can pick it.
Just surrender your life and admit
its a bust.
Do this she said and you will not
lust
Dont get lazy and give up because
its work
Which is often tuff.
Spend time with others who's like you
Call them up when you are blue.
Stick to them as if you were glued
For your life is a gift from your
Higher power
God considers you his precious
flower.
In his gardern you will grow with
all the others who had once been like you.
They will tell you their lives were
also once bad.
But now they will never give up what
they have.
Your Life will become special and
you will soon care.
but remember to be ware there is
danger everywhere.
You can no longer live the same way
In your fellowship is where you have
to remain."
Well i did it, i did as she said and
its amazing the disease was in my
head
I can say for today i am clean
And with my sobriety I know have
dreams.
So i thank you dear Lord for giving
me back
My life my dreams and that's a fact.
Written by: Alauraluv
WHO YOU THINK I AM
I hate it when Alkies admit their
addiction
I'd rather them powerless and under
affliction
When they seek Power, greater than
themselves
I use weapons of doubt, stored up on
my shelves
For if they make it, past Step
number three
They'll acquire an ally, much
greater than me
I try to overwhelm them, with Step
number four
Cause if I succeed, it's the liquor
store door
I hate when they find help, in Step
number five
And I'd like to burn, their Sponsor
alive
If they should waffle, over Step
number six
I'll slyly suggest, a rum and some
mix
And when they seek help, in Step
number seven
I wince from the Power, which comes
down from Heaven
When I see them attempt, an amends
list
I tell them it's no use and many
resist
When in fear, about making amends
I remind them those people, will
never be friends
Step Ten presents a problem, however
many are slack
I notice complacency and spring to
attack
I don't like em praying, or
listening to God
Cause I don't bury many of those,
under six feet of sod
I hate it the most, when they spread
their good news
Because I can't seem to get those
ones, back on the booze
I'm cunning, baffling, and powerful
as can be
So ya better keep 12 Steps of
distance, between yourselves and me
I smile when you're miserable and
breathe your last breath
There's nothing like good ole jails,
institutions and death
Some call me the Alkie, disease or
reaper that's grim
Others say I'm the devil, as you
understand him
For now I'll stay anonymous, just do
your program
Cause I don't give a damn, WHO YOU
THINK I AM
Poem by Kevin Kensick, 03/30/2003
THE THOUSAND POUND PHONE
In dark isolation, feeling alone
Staring at my, thousand pound phone
Scanning the numbers, my support list
Frozen in fear, I somehow resist
Light as a feather, when lusting for
dope
So hard to lift, when needing some
hope
Head's in control, feel the disease
Desperate I pray, "Take my will
please"
Sponsor imparts, a portion of love
Keeping me clean, as a white dove
Lonliness be gone, your not my wife
Telephone thanks, you saved my life
When face to face, with my disease
I find some strength, down on my
knees
Thanks be to God, I'm never alone
As together we lift, the thousand
pound phone
poem by Kevin Kensick
"I Need You"
I found God.....
In your Faces
I found God.....
In your Touch
I found God.....
In your words
I found God.....
In your example
I found God.....
In your hearts
I found God.....
In your actions
I found God.....
In your lives
Thanks to YOU !
The "MAN UPSTAIRS"
has blessed me beyond Belief !
I can.....
touch and be touched
I can.....
seek and forgive
I can.....
grow and cherish
I can.....
fail and learn
I can.....
hope and rejoice
I can.....
live and laugh
I can.....
love and cry
Take my hand.....
I need you!
Cary P.
(8/29/2002)
"God I love AA!"
Second Chance
I died yesterday...without ceremony,
an angel requested my immediate
presence.
And like so many before me, I
resisted...
Not my time, have too much to do,
love still undiscovered,goals yet
achieved,
most still packed inside dusty boxes,
full of dreams only dreamed about.
The angel responded softly,
and like a child I was faced with
the obvious,
in words long forgotten in a
memory...
"You had a lifetime, yesterday.
You chose not to live it then, why
now?
What is different as I ask you to
depart today?
If not today, would tomorrow be any
different?
If you were given a fresh canvas to
paint on, would you?
Could you?
What colors would you change in your
life?"
Today I live with a new canvas,
to paint with fresh colors...
my angel gave me a second
chance...today.
Written by: M 5/02
Time
As I’m in the depressing years
The world shows me all my fears
In a way I cannot explain
But time can be such a pain
I’m in the present
The rest is the future
I’ll uncover the world
But I must race against
The danger of time
The past is the past
The present is now
The future is up to me to decide
Right now
Nothing makes sense to me
But Later
I’ll understand everything
I stand alone
Watching time pass by
I try to remember
What was better
For me before
I don’t know what is planned
For what’s in front of my eyes
I walk
Through a world
Of rushing speed
But it never
Seems to slow down for me
Clock’s tickin’
And the world stops
As I walk through the door
I see
In front of me
A world
Of people below my time
And people along with mine
Also
People that are new
Who show up after
Me and You
This is a world
Of what I see
All around me
A world of the
Past
Present
And future
All of different time
That rushes by
In a blink
Of an eye
I’m on the road
Where I’m sitting
The present shows
The road ahead of me
Is the future
That’s in front of me
Written by: Kacy 4/9/02
"Just a Simple Fantasy"
Time is fastly ticking away;
for soon I will be old.
I have just this simple
fantasy; before my heart turns cold.
It's a simple fantasy, Some
may take as "Normal"
As for me this fantasy has
never been fulfilled, this
is causing me much turmoil.
I fantasize to be treated as a
Woman. My desire
is utterly simple. To be
taken into the night and
treated as His Royal Temple.
A Man who understands and
allows me to be me;
A Man to walk with me on my
Spiritual Path, into the
light to see.
Gentleness and soft caressing,
making love all night.
Burning candles flickering,
this being our only light.
Waking in the morning, and the
desire to be together
again. Just the two of
us, Woman and Man.
To be thrown upon his
shoulders,
to cook me breakfast in
bed. Maybe for my Birthday
the roses I've never had.
Someone who can accept that
I'm not perfect, and realize
I can't change overnight. I'm
tired of this vicious circle, this is not right.
Not to be hit by him, or
always wanting to fight.
To not abuse the children, and
for once not come home
drunk tonight.
For this is a simple fantasy,
I'm waiting for this day.
I need to be treated as a
Woman, just a little tenderness,
and someone to stay.
Just once I desire this,
then if he wants he may go
away.
Love and Light~
LisaMarie (1/22/02)
A Shot at Death? A Spiritual
Awakening?
She came to me on my deepest,
darkest night. I looked
up to Her and said, Who are
you? Why have you come to
me on most most tormented,
lonely and saddest night?
Don't fear, she said, I'm your
soul, your deepest desires.
I've come to you feeling your
pain tonite.
Take my hand I'll show you the
way; Take my hand now
before your spirituality dies.
Who are you , I ask; I'm your
Spirit, you Love , and Fear.
I'm your addictions and your
shedding of all your tears.
Fear me not, for I've been
with you many years. Allow me
to help you wash away your
fears.
Look at the beauty I've put
upon the earth; Look within
yourself and remember, your
part of my universe.
I'm the tree in your yard that
bears all the fruit. I'm the
soil you walk on, the life,
the truth.
Fear not, Anymore, Life is an
illusion your just a piece in
the game. Look up and
see the Moon, and allow it to be within you. Breath in my
Air,
and feel the heat of my Fire,
walk upon my earth, and shed
your tears with my water.
Fear no more, the love of the
man your heart cries for;
YOur Spirit will rise, you
will feel the love again, first see the
love within your own eyes.
Who are you I ask? Are
you my Spiritual Awakening? Why
do you come to me tonite, are
you feeling my Soul forsaking.
I am your Goddess, I welcome
you to my Universe, take my
hand, I shall show you the
real Truth.
Rise with me, come into the
light; I will take you on a new
journey of Life.
You Spirit will be
healed. I will give you the power. Soon
I will see you in the
Summerland, in your final hour.
Forget about yesterday for its
now gone; Life is an illusion
even the wrong.
Dark is Light and Light is
Dark. You will finally know peace or
no longer fear the truth.
I say:
Thank you, My Goddess, for
coming to me. It's the Universe
that I will now see. I
will see the light and rid my fears.
I will see you in the Stars
and Moon; I will respect your
soil that I walk upon.
I will soon be with you when I
cross to the Land;
This is my final hour,
Please taketh my hand.
~written by
LisaMarie~ On one of my
darkest of
nights.
Hangover Haven
I’m writing this poem, up late in
the evening,
At a place known as Hangover Haven.
It’s open all night for all of those
with the plight…
Being now sick and who shake from a
cravin’.
So if you’re thinking of drugs or of
taking a drink
And your burden is heavily laden,
Please look at yourself, then at all
of here,
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
It stands to the wayside of life’s
flashy fast lane
And has grown old in it’s many long
years.
It is fore ever haunted by us
unfortunates…
By our memories of hurt and our
fears.
The faces will change, but the
stories remain,
We’re lost souls who are in need of
some savin’…
So enter, if you will, and please
have a close look
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
There is Mr. McArthur, he’s a very
old man,
Who will quite often sit down and
cry.
He will look in the mirror, and ask,
"What have I done?"
As another year quickly slips by.
He once had a family, and once had a
job,
And was always so very clean shaven.
Now he sits all alone with a face
full with growth
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
There’s a very young girl sitting
there by the phone
Wearing jeans and an oversized shirt.
She’s been to the doctor, then
called a man,
And her needle marks begin to hurt.
She looks to the phone, then stares
to the ceiling,
And soon will commence into prayin’.
She’s a heroine addict and carrying
a baby
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
Big Jim was a boxer and he’ll tell
you his tales,
How no man on the earth does he fear.
But just watch him shake with a
fright in his eyes,
When HIS image he sees in a mirror.
He’d beat up his wife, and the kids
and the dog…
Because of their rantin’ and ravin’…
And couldn’t pay bills chasing
alcohol thrills
And now lives at the Hangover Haven.
There’s a punker who blows upon his
shirt with his nose,
And claims that it’s all in good
taste.
He’s sporting a head- that is half
green, half red.
On his shirt’s written, ‘Nuclear
Waste!’
His father and mother can’t figure
him out,
But the two tell him ‘life is worth
savin’’,
And he just sniffed some glue he had
stashed in his shoe…
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
Old Janie will sit around the tables
and tell
Of the good men she’s know in her
life.
The warm-hearted lawyer, the dashing
young banker,
And the surgeon who cured with a
knife.
But Janie took pills for imaginary
ills
And now is too sick for the savin’.
She lives in her memories as if they
were real
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
There’s a young man just in, he’s
clutching the wall,
And shaking so hard he can’t stand.
He’s done too much coke and way too
much speed
And he’s clutching his heart with
his hand.
He’s praying to God, "Just please
bring me down,
I will quit and I will start
behavin’"
In the morning he’ll leave and by
night he’ll be back
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
Tex Manley is a cowboy wearing old
faded jeans
Whose six-string will always be near.
If you ask him, on a good day, he
will sing you a song
Guaranteed to bring you to tears.
And there once was a time when our
Tex could fill dance halls
And everyone talked of his playin’.
Till he met Johnny Walker and ol’
Jimmy Beam…
Now he plays at the Hangover Haven.
Then as Zarley stands up, and at
near six feet four,
He’s a vision of ol’ biker pride,
For he’s clad in tattoos with his
key’s danglin’ loose
And his t-shirt reads, " I live to
ride."
But he’s no longer high, and just
gives a big sigh…
As before us he seems to be fadin’,
For he screwed with his crew and
knows not what to do
And they’re headed now for Hangover
Haven.
There’s a young man named Michael
doing volunteer work here,
He’s been sober two years just today.
He will talk about good things in
time with sobriety
But to us that seems far, far away.
Right now his is sitting with old
Mr. McArthur,
Explaining that there’s time for his
savin’,
But I just heard a cry, and soon our
old friend will die…
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
There’s a beautiful young girl who
looks all so fine
And goes by the name April May.
She’s dressed up in expensive
clothing and jewelry
And her hips move in just the right
way.
She brags that she takes in a
thousand a night…
Though that barely takes care of her
cravin’.
For her cash is all gone and her
pimps looking for her
And she hides at the Hangover Haven.
Just entering the room comes old
saggy hips June,
All withered and scarred through the
years.
As she makes her slow entrance she
spots April May
And her eyes start to swell up with
tears.
She starts to remembering the old
glory days…
How she’d get her tricks simply by
wavin’
Now everyone laughs when she stands
on the corner
Just down from the Hangover Haven.
And the two of them sit there and
stare at each other
Both looking like the ghost they
have seen.
One gets a glimpse as to where she
is going…
While the other to where she has
been.
Confrontations of this kind are a
common occurrence
When we met who are equally laden.
The young with the old, and the meek
and the bold,
Exchange fears at the Hangover Haven.
And a young lonely artist, alone in
the darkness
Of a seat at the end of the hall,
Where the cobwebs grow thick, and
the paints dried and peeled,
Is etching scenes from his life on
the wall.
And right now he is drawing a
picture of a house
As he sweats as he works at creatin’,
A picture that looks like a place we
all know…
The place known as Hangover Haven.
And as the days turn to weeks, and
the weeks to months,
Some of us will go on to be fine.
We will beat this addiction, and
change our old ways,
And we’ll do it ‘One Day At A Time’.
But there are the unfortunates, like
old Mr. McArthur,
And to this disease they’ll succumb,
For he died with the shakes, and the
night of his wake,
No one but no one did come.
And we’re open all night for all of
those with the plight,
For those who shake from the cravin’
And if you see some of us when you
look in the mirror,
Well a spot for you here we are
savin’.
So if you’re thinking of drugs or of
taking a drink
And your burden is heavily laden,
Please look at yourself, then at all
of us here…
At the place known as Hangover Haven.
Anonymous
WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?
What’s wrong with this picture?
We preach love, not hate
But everywhere we look
We see killing, hate and rape.
Why?
Are we any better
Than other ethnic, cultural and
religious groups?
At the first sign of trouble
We’re quick to judge and condemn
Those who look, think or speak
differently.
We need to watch the
Hypocrisy we teach.
We need not look far
From this land of ours
To see these injustices
Yet we condemn other countries
Who do the same
Under the guise of tradition.
Why?
It’s easier to find
The faults in others
Than look in the mirror
To expose our own flaws.
True, we rescue
Those from far away places
But what about the
Hurting people here at home?
Why does it take a disaster
To make us see
We need each other
Each and everyday?
Take the time to hold the hand
Of your neighbor
Take the time to hug and
Say kind words
To people one and all.
Color isn’t important.
Religion isn’t important.
"What’s important?"
You might ask.
Let me take a minute
Of your precious time
And I’ll enlighten you.
The important thing
Is the person you see
Standing before you
Whether he be dressed
In satins and silks
Or rough woolen hand-me-downs
Or whether she worships
God, Goddess, Allah,
Buddha or none at all
Or whether he be green, white,
Tan, orange or purple.
What’s important
IS the heart of the person
Is it full of forgiveness,
Love and compassion
Or hatred and anger?
Set aside the differences
Ant get to know your neighbor
Unite in love and peace
Recognize what each has to give
Before hatred tears us apart.
United, we can handle
Anything at all
But
Divided we WILL fall.
Let’s work together
To change the picture
People around us see –
Together we can
Make a difference.
Show some compassion today.
Deidre Celeste Koons
09/30/01
"My Last Drunk"
Drink has become my problem,,
How I wished that my children, my
family could understand,
how I wished I could understand why?
My life so empty, so loveless,,
and to fill my body with scotch quit
working now,,
Its warmth, Its caring has slipped
away,,
just heartache and despair is left,
Oh, why did you, my God quit working
for me,,
you let me sleep through the pains
and agony,
you would hide my soul for the
longest periods of time,,
Oh, my sweet liquor, my emptiness,
where have you gone?
I drink you like no tomorrow,
In hopes that tomorrow may never
come,,
but, oh morning, blue morning ,
why do you come back into my soul.
I am lost without you, and lost with
you,
that is my fate..
You've enslaved me , you know,,
in this life I want no more.
So in this moment, I long for my
youth,
In the time when you,,, God,,,I did
not know,,,
--- vegyman (6/24/01)
I have to keep remembering my last
drunk!
What Gives You the Right?
What gives you the right
To get so mad and angry
That you pick a fight
And then,
Using all your might,
You strike?
What gives you the right
To say you're perfect
And blame others
To cover your mistakes?
Calling yourself "god"
Truly magnifies
The insecurities you have
And your need to be perfect
If only in your mind.
Your need to bully
Harass and embarrass others
By your demeaning remarks
Lies & slithering snake-like
behavior
Only shows how unsure you are.
Chill out, calm down and observe
Those around you
Give them credit
For their knowledge and abilities
And you may discover
They are your allies,
NOT enemies.
Think
And ask yourself
"What gives me the right
To be judge, jury and executioner?"
Life's too short
True friends are few and hard to find
Remember --
What gives you the right?
Written by Deidre Celeste Koons -
May 12, 2001
Troubled Teens
Charged emotions
Confused minds
Raging hormones -
Continuously changing
Feeling lost and alienated
"Nobody understand me!"
Scared and alone
Wanting to belong
Loss of family attention
Influenced by the media
And society's "germs"
Ignored by friends
No one to share dreams with
"Would be better if I just checked
out -
besides, I'm not going to live long."
No dreams
No goals
No self-love
-- and no one to teach these things
Is it any wonder
they get pregnant
abuse drugs & alcohol
join gangs?
No one to guide them
Hug them
Hold them
and say "I LOVE YOU!"
Such a sad state of affairs
for us to live in the freest country
and YET
have kids killing themselves
after taking guns to school,
doing drive-by shootings,
overdosing on what they find,
contracting a variety of diseases
WAKE-UP
before we find
that our future leaders are no more
as they've only seen the bad -- and
concluded:
"What's the use of trying to stick
around?
The world sucks and there's no place
for me!"
Wake up and love them -
-- our kids today
-- our parents of tomorrow
Our beautiful flower buds waiting to
blossom
I love you!
You are beautiful!
Deidre Celeste Koons
04/22/01
Daddy, Dear
I heard you laugh
I heard you cry
I wanted to die.
I cried with you
Not a thing could I do
To erase your pain
To ease your sorrow
Only say with tears in my eyes
"I've been there too
This world my father has left
Searching for a different life."
Guarding me, guiding me and loving me
from the dimension beyond
Momentos and memories keep him alive
Till we meet again in a joyful
embrace
on the other side.
In life and in death
He was honored and remembered
By family and friends
For his triumphs and travails
That made him more dear
By those far and near.
Hearts and minds kept open
Will find him always near
Continuing to love and guide me
From the beyond
As I continue my struggle
To be the person he wanted me to be.
Honest, unique, above reproach
A model to the young lives
I guide and coach
As I continuously approach
My next step --
Meeting Dad again
In the Great Garden beyond.
Deidre Celeste Koons
4/17/01
*Written in remembrance of my Dad,
Kaye K. Koons, upon the death of Raymundo Moncada, a co-worker's dad.
TODAY
When you're down and lonely,
So full of fear,
When each moment seems
a struggle.
Keep your faith,
Say a prayer,
Maybe even,
Shed a tear.
For this moment will pass,
It won't last forever.
I promise you,
It will get better.
Open your heart,
Let God guide your way.
Believe in yourself,
Each and every day.
For again I promise,
This to be true,
If it works for me,
Why not for you?
For you are stronger,
Than you may think,
As God is my witness,
You need not that drink.
So remember my words,
All that I say,
Don't worry about tomorrow,
Just live for Today.
TMA "97"
Because I'm Human
Because I am not perfect,
my best intentions seem,
to sometimes miss fulfillment,
like the texture of a dream.
And I wage a daily battle,
that I very often loose,
between the things that matter,
and the ones I seem to choose.
Because I am no angel,
I am easy to mislead,
in spite of what I know is right,
I'm swayed by pride and greed.
Sometimes I think I love the world,
too much to want to leave,
though eternity awaits me,
and all that I believe.
My free will is a problem,
how easy it would be,
if someone made the decisions,
and took the job from me.
But in this there's no merit,
I am very well aware,
so I have to work for heaven
every moment I am here.
And just because I'm human,
it might take a little long,
to become what I was meant to,
since I'm really not that strong.
So I'll just keep on trying,
and I'll live from day to day,
for my spirit is immortal,
though my body's made of clay.
Written by Lisa Conway in February
of 1995
For all to enjoy!!