My home town is Sayville Long Island New York. It's a small seashore town that I have lived in for the last 20+ years. I have come to know many a character here. Thus poem is about the few I call frieinds.
Here is the poem:
Characters
Over in the corner
always waiting to converse,
Big Mike plays Captain America,
King of the Universe.
There’s Robbie the Hat,
Joey Fingers,
and Friday Evening Bob,
Sean,Tamara, Donna,
Allan, Mike and Rob.
My good friend
Lenny the Weasel,
who always has something good to say.
Then there’s the guy
on bicycle
who lives down by the bay.
Milt, Peter, Norman
Billy,Pam and Roseann,
Cheryl, Chris and Jimmy
make up this merry band.
Last names are never spoken,
a dollar and a dream.
It’s just few words
that are used
to be among this team.
Characters each and everyone
we talk and sometimes groan,
of times we can relate to
and know were not alone.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Sunday, February 22, 2009
That One Thing
Now here is an interesting little story that turned into a poem. In my previous posting "Characters" I speak of a man called "Big Mike". Let me tell you the name fits him to a tee, the guy is huge. Well he shared with me and my good friend Lenny some of the most important information that I will ever need to hear. This episode was the making of " That One Thing".
Here is the poem:
That One Thing
While sitting as I always do
an evening spent at best,
reading from the big book
up here at Sayville West.
One by one we took a turn
talking from the heart,
sharing times and where we’ve been
and how it all did start.
In came a man that we all knew,
Big Mike he’s kindly called.
He nodes and smiles when he talks
and shares how he was mauled.
Well it was like most other evenings
till he turned around,
whispering to Lenny,
I heard not but a sound.
What was said to Lenny
made him turn to me.
For what Mike said was “that one thing”
and it would set me free.
He said there only was one thing
that would keep me from a drink.
He asked me do I know that thing?
I had to stop and think.
“One thing” I thought
what could it be?
My mind did draw a blank.
There were so many
times in my life
that I just sat a drank.
I looked at him and shook my head
and said I did not know.
That one thing did elude me,
my curiosity did grow.
Big Mike smiled a smile
that made me glad
that he was not a foe.
So I listened closely
to what he said,
standing toe to toe.
He said “ Ron, there is one thing
to keep you from a drink”.
That one thing then he shared with me
that made me stop and think.
It was very simple,
that one thing for us all.
His answer to this riddle,
that one things “alcohol”.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Here is the poem:
That One Thing
While sitting as I always do
an evening spent at best,
reading from the big book
up here at Sayville West.
One by one we took a turn
talking from the heart,
sharing times and where we’ve been
and how it all did start.
In came a man that we all knew,
Big Mike he’s kindly called.
He nodes and smiles when he talks
and shares how he was mauled.
Well it was like most other evenings
till he turned around,
whispering to Lenny,
I heard not but a sound.
What was said to Lenny
made him turn to me.
For what Mike said was “that one thing”
and it would set me free.
He said there only was one thing
that would keep me from a drink.
He asked me do I know that thing?
I had to stop and think.
“One thing” I thought
what could it be?
My mind did draw a blank.
There were so many
times in my life
that I just sat a drank.
I looked at him and shook my head
and said I did not know.
That one thing did elude me,
my curiosity did grow.
Big Mike smiled a smile
that made me glad
that he was not a foe.
So I listened closely
to what he said,
standing toe to toe.
He said “ Ron, there is one thing
to keep you from a drink”.
That one thing then he shared with me
that made me stop and think.
It was very simple,
that one thing for us all.
His answer to this riddle,
that one things “alcohol”.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Last Chance Hotel
In a cold winter January I found myself at my lowest bottom. I was helpless,hopeless and homeless sleeping in the back of my truck spiritually and physically bankrupt. If not for Lenny I would still be there if not and most likely dead. I wrote this poem shortly afterward to make sure I never forget where I can end up again.
Here is my life saving poem:
Last Chance Hotel
Sleeping in my car
temperatures so cold.
No money in my pockets,
everything was sold.
Nowhere left to rest my head,
doors once open now are shut.
Under a bridge, out in the woods
or make a cardboard hut.
The cold cruel world
is all that’s left,
averted eyes don’t look at me.
They just walk by
turning their heads,
pretending not to see.
Street life is unforgiving,
hard gutters will demean.
Memories don’t help here,
or places where I've been.
Thank God for those two fellows,
Bill W. and Doctor Bob.
Cause it was in their actions,
that I no longer have to sob.
The rooms where soon provided
for people living in this hell.
The price to enter everything,
at the last chance hotel.
Copyright © 2007 Ronald J. Edwards
Here is my life saving poem:
Last Chance Hotel
Sleeping in my car
temperatures so cold.
No money in my pockets,
everything was sold.
Nowhere left to rest my head,
doors once open now are shut.
Under a bridge, out in the woods
or make a cardboard hut.
The cold cruel world
is all that’s left,
averted eyes don’t look at me.
They just walk by
turning their heads,
pretending not to see.
Street life is unforgiving,
hard gutters will demean.
Memories don’t help here,
or places where I've been.
Thank God for those two fellows,
Bill W. and Doctor Bob.
Cause it was in their actions,
that I no longer have to sob.
The rooms where soon provided
for people living in this hell.
The price to enter everything,
at the last chance hotel.
Copyright © 2007 Ronald J. Edwards
Pieces of the Puzzle
I found this picture on the internet and could relate to it immediately. It is an album cover to a band in Scotland called Biffy Cylro and I thank them for letting me use it here.
I started writing a new book after completing "Experience,Strength and Hope" and needed a title for it. I new this was it "Pieces of the Puzzle". I'll let the poem speak for itself
Here is my poem:
Pieces of the Puzzle
When young an innocent
the feeling is quite known.
The wholeness being one
is absent though I’ve grown.
Carved and jig sawed internally
not present from outside.
When looking in the mirror
I want to run and hide.
It’s like vitaligo
of the spirit and the soul.
There’s times that I lose patches,
painting on them to look whole.
Pieces of the puzzle,
don’t always fit
where they came from.
That’s when I’m dragged
along the ground,
forced in place until I’m numb.
But over time these pieces,
somehow begin to fit.
I always have that one piece,
that falls out when I sit.
That one piece is the main piece,
most important in my life.
I hope it stays and does remain
to help me end my strife.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Alcoholism
I heard this phrased in the rooms as the definition of alcoholism and related to it.I added a visual effect to help the message along.
Here is my poem:
Here is my poem:
Alcoholism
I
built
tall walls
around......me,
the............world
I.................would
not................tout.
Only......................to
realize...............That
................. I ...............
could.......................not
get...........................out.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Silent Night
This is a very terrible piece of my life that I am still ashamed of to this day. I did this many many years ago on Xmas eve as my family watched in horror, me drunk and out of control. I actually threw the Xmas tree out the back door of my house, lights, bulbs, everything ... My wife at the time took the kids and left me. It truly was a "silent night"
Here is my poem:
Silent Night
No chestnuts roasting or carol’s sung,
eggs shells all around.
There I sat, my kids walk by
trying not to make a sound.
Another night like all the rest,
alone with family.
My children hoping Santa Claus
would show up just to spite me.
Xmas was another day
no difference, all the same.
More I wished it all would end
the meaner I became.
Staring hard now at the tree
standing in its glory.
Shiny balls with blinking lights
began this horror story.
I was on my fourth or fifth,
lost count some time ago.
My inner rage was focused now
on a angel with a halo.
Sliding doors swung open,
I threw Xmas from my house.
Chaos had returned again,
to it I did espouse.
The look in all my families eye’s
as tears began to fall.
I did not care what I had done,
my spirit went awol.
When I came too I was alone,
a note pinned to my shirt.
In not so many words it told
my likeness to the dirt.
I’ve kept that note and read it
to set my sober mind aright.
On Xmas eve no longer,
do I spend a “silent night”.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Here is my poem:
Silent Night
No chestnuts roasting or carol’s sung,
eggs shells all around.
There I sat, my kids walk by
trying not to make a sound.
Another night like all the rest,
alone with family.
My children hoping Santa Claus
would show up just to spite me.
Xmas was another day
no difference, all the same.
More I wished it all would end
the meaner I became.
Staring hard now at the tree
standing in its glory.
Shiny balls with blinking lights
began this horror story.
I was on my fourth or fifth,
lost count some time ago.
My inner rage was focused now
on a angel with a halo.
Sliding doors swung open,
I threw Xmas from my house.
Chaos had returned again,
to it I did espouse.
The look in all my families eye’s
as tears began to fall.
I did not care what I had done,
my spirit went awol.
When I came too I was alone,
a note pinned to my shirt.
In not so many words it told
my likeness to the dirt.
I’ve kept that note and read it
to set my sober mind aright.
On Xmas eve no longer,
do I spend a “silent night”.
Copyright © 2008 Ronald J. Edwards
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Steps
This is my interpretation of the 12 Steps and is no way shape or forms the same feelings of AA.
Here is my poem:
To climb the stairway to heaven
it’s one step at a time.
My faith I do hold onto,
a handrail thru subtle and sublime.
My entry was in question,
cause I was most inept.
I thought all was together,
uncontrollably I wept.
“ We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.”
Looking within I did believe
I was lord and master.
There had to be a greater one
if sanity would replace disaster.
“Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
My inner force found new direction,
the One I came to know.
Discarding baggage I did not need,
now easier to go.
“Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him."
There came a need to concede
all my errand ways,
and to allow so to proceed
without them in my days.
“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.”
“ Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”
Yet there remained a scantly few
spots on the blank oaktage.
Again a request to please remove
this slightly soiled rag.
“Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.”
“Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.”
My errors caused hurt feelings,
a long record I did make.
Sorry was not good enough,
this I could not fake.
“Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.”
In traveling up the stairs of life
if abreast one came to be,
I had to be ready of what to say
without hurting them or me.
“Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”
I did not know I had big feet
and stepped on many toes.
I had to look down and realize
the blame was on my boughs.
“Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.”
To improve my progress
it came time for me to ponder.
With out fully knowing Him
I would get lost and wander.
“Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.”
My consecration does depend
following this intel.
I must return to help all that are
coming up this stairwell.
“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”
Copyright © 2007 Ronald J. Edwards
Here is my poem:
To climb the stairway to heaven
it’s one step at a time.
My faith I do hold onto,
a handrail thru subtle and sublime.
My entry was in question,
cause I was most inept.
I thought all was together,
uncontrollably I wept.
“ We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.”
Looking within I did believe
I was lord and master.
There had to be a greater one
if sanity would replace disaster.
“Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
My inner force found new direction,
the One I came to know.
Discarding baggage I did not need,
now easier to go.
“Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him."
There came a need to concede
all my errand ways,
and to allow so to proceed
without them in my days.
“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.”
“ Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”
Yet there remained a scantly few
spots on the blank oaktage.
Again a request to please remove
this slightly soiled rag.
“Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.”
“Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.”
My errors caused hurt feelings,
a long record I did make.
Sorry was not good enough,
this I could not fake.
“Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.”
In traveling up the stairs of life
if abreast one came to be,
I had to be ready of what to say
without hurting them or me.
“Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”
I did not know I had big feet
and stepped on many toes.
I had to look down and realize
the blame was on my boughs.
“Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.”
To improve my progress
it came time for me to ponder.
With out fully knowing Him
I would get lost and wander.
“Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.”
My consecration does depend
following this intel.
I must return to help all that are
coming up this stairwell.
“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”
Copyright © 2007 Ronald J. Edwards
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