“Another in a Darkened Shroud”

This was written in 1972 during the Vietnam War and unfortunately it is still applicable for today.  How many times do we hear of or see on television about another soldier dying or maimed in war and becoming part of the statistics?  So you might ask, “How does this apply in any way to addiction or recovery?  I guess the same process of death will eventually come for many addicts too. Just substitute a few words here and there.  Dead soldiers and dead addicts both end up being covered by that darkened shroud or body bag, or casket, if you prefer.  Death does not only have to be physical.  Addiction can be spiritually, mentally, relationally, psychologically or financially mortal.  The point, I guess, to all of this is that while the soldier cannot escape death when death is calling, the addict can.  The addict can escape by turning their life over to the will of the God of their understanding and becoming part of a recovery program.  Any addict can find the help they need when they are ready to give up their addiction.  You don’t have to be another statistic!  One final thing I need to say is “God bless all our soldiers and veterans for their service, and God help the addicts that need your blessing today!”

“Another in a Darkened Shroud”

The frightened soldier stands so proud,

as the bombs around him form a cloud.

The lonely soldier, he hates to fight,

then a bullet rips, and a flash of light,

the soldier cries, he’s lost his sight.

The lonely soldier, with face of fear,

 his mind recalls the ones so dear,

he knows that death is near.

The lonely soldier, as he begins to die,

can hear more bombs crash through the sky,

and hears another comrade sigh.

The frightened soldier that stood once so proud,

is now just another in a darkened shroud.

“Is My Life an Example”

Each and every addict or alcoholic in recovery has their own definition of what their Higher Power is.  That is what the program is about and I believe that whatever works for anyone to keep them clean and sober and on the road of recovery is awesome.  For me that Higher Power is called God and my own personal Savior is called Jesus.  He has been my friend and guide throughout my life.  His Word, the Bible, and Spirit give me the sustaining power I need to live my life day by day no matter how tough a day can be.  My relationship with Him is very personal and that is how it should be for anyone.  If someone asks me about why I believe I will tell them, otherwise I have found the best affirmation of my faith is only how I live and treat others. Am I and is my life a true example of how Christ lived?  The words “My Reason for Jesus” were written in November 1974.

“My Reason for Jesus”

More enlightening than anything encountered,

more uplifting than anything experienced,

more stimulating than all things perceived,

more motivating than any other source,

more beauty than beauty can define,

more rewarding than all there is to know,

is my reason for Jesus.

Please leave your comments about what your Higher Power means to you.  Much thanks!

“When You’re Worn”

Ask through prayer for that Light Source when you’re worn,

the oasis when you can’t stand  the heat,

the healing of a broken heart so torn,

new steps of direction for the aching feet,

 or just some sign, a rainbow after storm.

“May Your Love”

This poem, “May Your Love”, was written in 1973, prior to the end of the Vietnam War.  I was still in the Air Force.  This poem was kind of my mantra of how I was to live my life daily, my ideal.  I think now that throughout my life of addiction and recovery I always wanted to be this kind of person, but that was not the case.  We are, by the grace of God, given new opportunities. How we respond to them either defines us or destroys us.

“May Your Love”

When you walk,

may there be purpose in each step,

when you speak,

may your words be taken to the heart,

and when you love,

may your love never know the end.

“From An Omen”

This poem “From an Omen” was written in July of 1976 at Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado.  I was trying hard after three hour’s worth of rain to appreciate the beauty of it.  Suddenly as I looked out toward one of the mountain ranges, there was a beautiful rainbow covering part of the sky. It was awe inspiring! I think the lesson for me was to appreciate the beauty of all moments.  The sunny times are great, but those dark stormy moments serve their purpose too.  Many times during the process of addiction and the growth that recovery brings we have to endure both.  That is where we get our growth.  God wants us to be in the moment.  That is where the lesson is found.

From An Omen

 

In a storms rapid fury,

calm can be found,

that enables the rain,

to nourish the ground.

 

 Sun weakened by darkness,

long it may seem,

ends with a rainbow,

a richer bright green.

 

 From an omen one finds,

thoughts pointing within,

and answers to questions,

from God for His kin.

“For If Not”

When I wrote this poem, as an addict, the thought behind it was that I would be more receptive, unbiased, and responsive in all areas of my life, especially my life of addiction.  I wrote this in the late seventies as a reminder to myself.  I wanted to be able to process my thoughts in the right way with “Truth” being my foundation.  I fell short at the time because the knowledge of knowing how to live life without addiction wasn’t being applied within my own life.  I could not be all I was created to be if addiction ruled my life. No matter how good I thought I was, or whatever gifts I was blessed with, I knew I would always be a step behind until I took the step to deal with my addiction.  All the lessons of life that we learn throughout our time of addiction and through our journey of recovery are nothing if they are not applied.

“For If Not”

 

A mind must be receptive,

for if not,

thoughts can’t enter.

 

A mind must be unbiased,

for if not,

truth loses its meaning.

 

A mind must be responsive,

for if not,

knowledge won’t be applied.

“Where Did I Write It Down”

Throughout my years as what I’d like to call a poet, a writer, I have often found myself in not so good situations while trying to find something to write on and something to write with.  The point in more than enough words is that there is an important purpose to, as an addict, write down what you think and feel.  The purpose being for the help of others or at least for posterior to find a little piece of crumpled paper in some pocket or secret place after you are gone.   Before there were all these wonderful gizmos and gadgets that do everything, including talking and writing, there was no other way except paper and pen or a typewriter.  I’m’ talking before there was tape recorders, or digital this and that.  God, I remember those term papers on the typewriter with the strip of white out next to you.  Same thing for resumes, you had to have it perfect and sure as hell right toward the end I would make that fricken mistake and have to start over.  Starting over by the way is also part of addiction and the recovery process.  In the early days I would find myself driving at least 65 on the two lane roads, that was the speed limit then on most roads, and then all of a sudden there would be inspiration, the words, the moment of realization that I wanted to expose to the world.  So there I was, cigarette in mouth, 3 pack a day smoker, cars zooming back and forth while I was nonchalantly reaching in the glove box trying to find something to write this beautiful poetic inspiration on.  Aw, found the paper, now I know that I had always put some pen or pencil in the car, but where was it, maybe under the seat?  Same safe process over again, and by the way my apology to anyone back then that I might have run off the road or given the finger to.  Finally found the pen and paper and now trying to write on the steering wheel of the vehicle I was driving.  The slower I went the faster the words of inspiration came, the faster I went, the same thing.  You’d think I would pull off the road and get it together, no that wasn’t the same rush, but I did that too.  All throughout my days as man, husband, father, son, businessman, and addict the words would always come and seemingly at the most in opportune times.  One of the problems is that through the years they have been filed, put, sorted, kept in a  journal , recorded, or  whatever. Where are they now? It is kind of like Christmas when you find these verses, thoughts, essays, or words because they do serve a purpose, they were written for the moment, about a moment. It could be love, life, the pursuit of this or that, or some ideology that entered in and out of this addicts mind.  That being said I find myself now in a tech world that changes by the day, so thank God for my kids.  Through repetition and patience and love they have helped train me to use all this technology for the good of all, or at least now, in my fourth quarter of life, to keep my occupied.  The irony of it all is here I am 50 years, maybe 45 years later sitting at the keyboard, using the same fingers I used on that typewriter!  Do times change or does history repeat itself just in a different way?  Now I look forward to the day I can afford the new technology and just speak into my phone and find it magically in a word document and at the same time on line to anyone that had the patience, God bless them, to read this.  Lon Chaney was known in the early movie days as the “man of many faces”.  In one of my younger corporate environments, my boss tagged me as the man of many words.  If something could be said in ten words I would say it in a hundred.  Yes twitter does limit me but I have found a way to communicate.  I hope that somehow, some of my words can motivate anyone that it is important, as a means of teaching and learning, for others to have access to as many thought processes about a particular problem as they can have, be it addiction and recovery, with word therapy and poetry, also included.

“His Hand Reached Out”

“His Hand Reached Out” was written in the summer of 1989.  To me each and every sunset is a new and beautiful creation.  The one I witnessed on this particular day was spectacular!  I felt that God was speaking directly to me.  God does, I believe, speak to us in recovery and throughout life in many different ways.   He speaks through circumstances and situations, prayer, words, meditation, people, and nature.  What we have the responsibility to do is to watch, listen, be aware, and to respond in a more constructive way when we do, or think we do, receive His guidance.  That is easier said than done, I know, so maybe we just need to appreciate, be thankful, or be grateful in our own unique way.

”His Hand Reached Out”

 

Each sunset I’ve seen,

seems to tell me it’s’ meaning,

 a reflection of something,

 maybe a heavenly home.

When pastels cover the sky,

 I melt with humbleness,

 feel the presence of the Artist,

 know my Creator is there.

My heart feels freshness,

 feels His hand has reached out,

 helping to guide me,

 and to lead me back home.

“The Desires”

This poem “The Desires” was written in 1973.  Until we say no to that which binds us to our addictions we will continue the internal struggle of  questioning our relationship with our Creator and the justification, in some way, of  our actions.  Every addict does this.  There is no rationalization. When we are ready to give up that which binds us, the clouds and darkness, and doubts will eventually disappear.  They are replaced by a life of recovery which brings with it the growth and awareness we need for healthy and constructive living.  Hopefully, for you that will not be days, years, or decades.

“The Desires”

The desire is there,

it keeps haunting from within,

this desire inside of me,

is it wrong?

is it a sin?

I keep waiting to hear,

I keep seeking to find,

these answers my spirit is longing to know.

In sporadic gusts the answers are slowly coming,

but only in pieces,

for I must put them together.

What am I constructing?

what am I putting together?

for whom do I hope to satisfy?

what will I say I’ve accomplished in the end?

I don’t really know if I can put my answers on paper, in words,

but I would be a fool to say,

that I couldn’t feel the beautiful things unveiling inside to me,

it just seems so beautiful, so natural, so Divinely oriented.

In revealed thoughts I know where I stand,

do I want to keep going?

do I want to reach out, do I want to reach on?

this decision is only mine.

I have reached a stalemate with myself,

I examine to find why this delay,

I know there’s a reason; I know there’s a why,

for I just won’t say no,

I just won’t let go,

to the earthly desires that keep liberation away,

that make it so slow.

“Open the Rest of Life”

“Open The Rest of Life” was written in 1996 during a very tough period in my life.  Two years before, the daughter of my second wife had committed suicide in a very drastic way.  After the suicide, needless to say, my wife had an extremely tough time.  We were also going through very hard financial times.  I struggled with my sanity, my sobriety, and life in general.  Everything was out of sync.  This poem was my pleading to God to help me understand what was going on and a request for some clarity in what direction I needed to pursue.

Open The Rest Of Life

Take away my sorrows and help with this day’s pain,

take my anxieties and help this intrusion,

take away my passions so I can be free,

take away my blindness to know what is the end to confusion.

 

Open my clouded eyes and help me, please, to see,

open my inner heart and help me, please, to feel,

open my yearning mind so that I can perceive,

open the rest of life to know what is illusion or real.