The quality of the poetry is so dependant on the quality of the lighting. Improve the color palette and yes, you’ve guessed the result. So, I say to you, “Turn up the lights. Do not write in half-dark grief and limp through the words. Spotlight what you can and illuminate the rest. You needn’t make a sound, needn’t pitch a tent, needn’t build a bridge, though you may, may if you wish and wish is what I do, wish for better light and when the clouds break loose in the sky and let the sun pour, I lift my pen and make it all; for what was needed was this better light.”
Imagine your webbed feet
PICK ME SIX NUMBERS
Knowing all the page numbers
And quotes of the Big Book
But not being able to apply them
Is like knowing all the winning lottery numbers
With the inability to buy a ticket.
Telling my story has little or nothing
To do with public speaking
Recovery has so much more to do
With willingness rather than studiousness.
Popularity contest, policing meetings
And service politics are a circus
I have attended far too often.
Empty rooms sporting great curtains
Does not a home make
Comprehension is no substitute for acquiescence