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Spiritual Recovery

Author: Chris J.

There was a time-when I was dead-I couldn’t get things straight-In my clouded head-the booze and pills-the hash and weed-really was what-I didn’t need-It robs you of everything-true and real-your thoughts and ideals-what you honestly feel-It breaks your heart-It steals your goals-It crushes your spirit-and robs your soul-It takes your wife-and your children too-It takes it all-and leaves nothing for you-It takes everything good-and turns it bad-and it leaves you thinking-about the things you had-then you reach a point-of total despair-you’re sitting on a bridge-your life is hanging by a hair-you sit there thinking-I’m such a clod=hold on there-came the word from my God-it lifted me up-from my perch so high-and softly told me-you’re to young to die-give me your love-your faith and hope-and I’ll cleanse you off-that ugly dope-come follow me-and I’ll show you the way-to live life to the fullest-each and everyday-just trust in me-and I’ll be there-but I don’t think I can help you-with your vanishing hair-and everything else-that happens along I’ll take you through-like the beat of a song-we’ll go up and down-through good and bad-and I’ll bring to light-all the good things you had-I’ll show you love-like you’ve never seen-I’ll make you whole-like you’ve never been-I’ll show you the way-to a better life-instead of the bitterness loneliness and strife-I’ll bring you back-to your loved ones to-this I promise-I’ll do it all for you-Just believe in me-and don’t despair-and we’ll see what we can do-about your vanishing hair-so one and all-I have to say to you-believe in your God-and it will show you too!

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Author: Chris J. There was a time-when I

Poetry

A shot of life sent upright.
Long sleeve cover-ups for a pair of gold mines.
Less is more won’t work tonight.

“It’s not for me.”

On a good day, you can make a bargain.
Insecurity traded for your arm, then.

blood fire

If it’s your third first try, you’re about to know.
There and back, the unknown’s known to blow.

departure

Powder and hues split and proliferate.
Sloppy grit and milk on no dinner plate.

oil spill

When you forget yesterday’s shadows, you see a new light.
A rush like “eureka!” comes out the urethra.
Railroad rage, I turn to more loco motives.
All stress is gone; it’s a brand-new dawn.
Curt, it’s curt when love occurs.
Foam that shone and stained a nurse.

stop rising

It does the job, you do it great.
Hallucinate a human taste,
fallen angels, and a munchkin.
Sudden, much too mushed in.

direct burial

Turn the dull remarkable, a move I must pull.
Well, it’s the wet smell of a well in my head.
I’ll take the edge off the train tracks and rail on, instead.

Tomorrow.

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A shot of life sent upright. Long sleeve