PEACE

MY FANCY PHONE CASE

Several years I have been closing almost every blog post or other communication with the word "PEACE"!  Not simply a closing word, but a carefully thought, serious expression from deep within myself.


Whether illusion, delusion, or fact, it's how I have felt for some years now, after a life of early physical and mental abuse, followed by nearly 25 years of alcoholic drinking, and those pretty little pink pills. OH! What a voyage I've traveled. How fortunate I, to have experienced life as only a drunk can know, then allowed, helped, to quit that life, exchange it for years of sobriety.


And all the time seeking peace, so illusive for me, who returned to earth several times each day, wondering not only where my truck was parked--but did I even own a truck? Always though was that dream of being at peace, being one with the world. Some years, yes, I was in that space, no doubt--seeing it now--a product of denial rather than a life well-lived.


But survive I have, for no reason that I see--yet! Actually, that's not quite true. Lots of Peeps ask questions, and boy, do I have answers--grin!


Another reason for my survival is that I can now sit here, in fog-less (sleepless) stare, and wish for each of you....
PEACE!


P.S. Image is the back of my fancy phone case

TO BE OR NOT TO BE--COLD

Posted for Open Link Night Number 20 at

dVersePoets

which will begin TODAY

Tuesday at 3PM Eastern

Note:

I love snow and cold weather—if I can be warm. From earliest memory I was not warm, ever. In early 1960's I had resigned from Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, quit a good restaurant manager job. One moon-full 2 AM I took off for the south, there to be warm and stay drunk for the rest of my life—my goal! (It's kinda chilly tonight—and I don't drink—thanks to AA)...

Understand, in Miami, thousands of roofs are painted white to stave off sun's heat. OK. Please read my experience:

 MOON OVER MIAMI

ESCAPING THE BLUSTERY,

WINTRY, SNOWY COLD

Well—just knowing

it's snowing

wherever I going.

High in the sky,

year 1965

over Flo-ree-da

one moonlight night:

way down

on ground,

blotches of white!

NOOOOOO!

Everywhere

there. NO!

Tears began to roll

years taken toll

getting old

fingers cold

My God, I'm age forty

I play a violin...and

that's not good when

my hands are blued, where

ten-finger-icicles protrude

Cold water will drop

through 'f'-holes

dampening sensitive

sound-post and board.

Negativity soared

Rusty strings

notes

damp bow hair,

other things...

Now flying low

over white roof,

proof of my goof!

Snow in Miami?

How can this be?

Yearning to drown myself

in Atlantic—or alcoholic sea

or both! (That's me!)

Plane door opens

first in line

balmy breeze

fullest moon over Miami

shining through

lacing palm leaves

But...but my eyes,

from high in those skies

(picture my delight!)

were seeing house-tops

all painted WHITE!

--steveroni

Scene: 1964-1965

Written: 11/29/11

Google Images

moon-over-miami-jorge-delara

A True Story of "Death by Drunk"

THE STORY

Takes plug

out of jug

--no mug

for this ole man

with shaking hand

His illness

will not go 'way.

Neither abates

that which liquor

no longer sates

There he sits,

man with no hat

nor hair--

no chair

Nice curb, though!

God is Good:

provider of

fireplug to

lay his head.

“Coming lots of snow,”

weather-man had said.

Near-empty jug

without plug

held in shaky hand of

dear sick old bald man

needs no mug

What's that sound

coming from round

near corner...

through fogginess

of storming snow?

Stentorian--like running

thousands pairs of

cleated feet.

...as the feet beat

another old cold man

driving snowplow

wishes for summer again

and his hot haymow.

BUMP—BUMP!

Grind, grinding

sound. THUMP!

“Good grief!”, he said.

“The snow, the snow!

She's coloring all red!”

Not hot haymow

'neath huge snowplow.

It's that man

with shaking hand,

a corker with a

corkless bottle

No hat

no hair

no stool

no chair

no breathing

there..........

 --steveroni

Fifty years after I still see clearly everything as pictured above. It happened in early morning...3 AM.

I'm sorry, old man. I was a shivering, shaking drunk like you, except younger. I feared being locked up if I called police or ambulance. Snowplow operator didn't even know he had killed you, old man.

A “death-by-snowplow” was mentioned the next day in the Enquirer,

page 4 of the newspaper's “Police Beat”.....

 Image from DeviantArt
snowplow by twelve41-d2xvfpd2

To SEE...To HEAR

Posted for Open Link Night Number 19 at

dVersePoets

which will begin TODAY

Tuesday at 3PM Eastern 

 

The Blind shall see,

and the Deaf made to hear!

Totally sightless from age 3 or 4,

he was totally deaf from age (+/-) 50

How sad.

How sad?

Read on to see.

Let yourself be

and listen--

inner voice—

hear!

I'm bad

leading you on like this:

He led life of normalcy

lived life of blindness with ease

He loved to fish

loved to hunt--

I'd fire the gun

He felt he'd won!

His true love of nature

animals, children

more genuine than

poet, painter

music maker.

He was midwife

to all who birthed

from kitten to cow
in field or hay mow

First he'd kneel.

After, he'd heal.

His smile was forever

I'm just a tad...bad!

Did I write his life was

one of normality?

Well, it happened. Deaf

struck with finality

set him in chaos—abyss

Once he realized

God did not punish

but simply

assigned a role,

all he had to do

was play the part.

This, then, he did in

award-worthy style

and died still.

Still with that smile.

Did I begin 

“How sad?”

Now--to let you know,

I'm so glad

he's my Dad.

--steveroni

Image:  

Deaf And Blind by w1zzy 

 @ DevaintArt

Acrobats of the 4th Dimension

 No, these birds are not on that 'high wire' but I absolutely fell in love with this picture:

Two_birds__by_superlukie on DeviantArt

KISSING

They were there, two

on that wire so high

standing close

so close...

And I saw them up there

those two--

kissing!

Two by god sent,

now bent

their bodies together

in that kiss...

another,

and on and on

under nature's tent.

Surrounded by friends,

deciding all

which direction to go.

Meanwhile the kissing—and I

sitting on two wheels

faced a light so red

it yelled “STOP!”

(traffic stopped, but not

high-wire kissing!)

Octane smells smothering--

yet I observed Peeps so

busy, busy, busy

in vehicle lineups

...missing

this wonderful display
of
love

(now they again kissing

each's neck-feathers!)

And oh! accompanying

most tender sweet kissing,

(I'm glad the red light stayed on)

even sweeter music, birdsong!

I listened to their tweeted tunes,

seeming to me from another world:

”The greatest thing

you'll ever learn

is just to love

and be loved....

in return.”

--steveroni

(Quote taken from last lines of song “Nature Boy”)

6:30 AM. On my scooter this morning--stopped at a busy intersection

I looked up to see on a power line many singing birds—way up! I ogled two of them kissing and 'necking' as lovers. (They were!) So I felt inspired to write it down and

Post for Open Link Night Number 18 at

dVersePoets

which will begin TODAY

Tuesday at 3PM Eastern

INTERMISSION...TAKE TWENTY!

BETWEEN THE GREEN

This past weekend our Central Florida hotel rooms were surrounded by luscious splashings of green:

Green has brushed its way to be a favorite of mine. Well, maybe an exception is clothing-- e.g., shoes, jackets (except in the golfing winners' circle!), trousers (except on clowns!)...hope I've offended only those who wear a lot of green other than during the octave of St Patrick's Feast.

As you might guess, with absolutely nothing to write—I'm empty. Taking some time off from blogging, but will leave this blog open. Please know, I'm not seeking bunches of “Return soon!” comments. From time to time I'll spend one hour most days reading and commenting your stuff—not writing mine. OK?

Happy Peep is me, going to tend to long-neglected living. And I wish you all feel as good as I. A sense of connection,  attachment and love for each Peep who has ever wandered into the “Fourth Dimension”...has been a gift to me.

INTERMISSION RIFF

At one time I entertained (played violin and told stories) with a group—well, a group of two! He and I sang a ditty when we took beer-and-smoke breaks. It went like this (oh, I wish I could sing on this machine):

“Gotta go...gotta go...

'Tis th'end of this p'ticular show.

Be back in a while

with a song and a smile

but right now (click-click!) it's

really time to go-o-o-o-o-o...”

PEACE!

ONLY GOD CAN MAKE A TREE

(Edited from first publishing September 2009)

WARNING!! This re-post concerns
 prayer, meditation and God--
AS EACH UNDERSTANDS GOD
--OR NOT!

*

SILENCE!

I recall in grade one, Sister Rose Gertrude --when all else would fail--shouted (her whole four feet of body shaking) "SILENCE!"  And boy, would we get quiet.  A pin dropping sounded like baseball bouncing on floor.

 SHHHHHH!

In the small country church, at certain times during mass, quiet was so quiet, it was LOUD.  But quiet lent itself to momentary feelings of peace, serenity.  I remember counting my heartbeats, because I could hear them, in the silence.
 
Early in sobriety, a man told me when I 'talk' to God, to be quiet, and know that He is God, not me.   This was my first inkling how to 'implement' meditation and prayer, how to start.  I realized then, that quietness had to be a part of it.
 
I have seen people praying agitatedly, gripping their hands together, and with furrowed, sweaty brow, trying to 'decode' God, and that may be good for some Peeps. 

My praying has evolved into a more meditative mode.  I sometimes simply desire to be with God, just be there, and enjoy the moments. (After all, God knows what I need and/or want--grin!)

NOTE: I believe there is no 'right' nor 'wrong' way to pray, Okay?!! My OWN opinion continues:

 
Meditation is union with God.  If I am upset, making plans, counting minutes or rosary beads while wishing I were somewhere else, it is very difficult to form that Oneness.  
 
One word can start me off—Silence! Being quiet is a beginning of meditation.  Each event, the beginning of a new life.  

In August 2009 a 3,000-mile 17-day scooter ride to Virginia was for me a life-changing event. That experience allows me to look now at the universe in a totally new way.
 
My beliefs may change over time. They will not alter this fact: my whole self felt then and now-- different. A new person inhabits this skeleton.  A few Peeps might might scoff, but I know what I know.
 
My gratitude-of-the-moment was and is for people God arranged for me to meet during my ride.  Several taught me valuable lessons, by baring their souls to me, a stranger. Others, caring and sharing, were at church celebrations, AA meetings. Still others were those random meetings of strangers in the night! And how wonderful are those chance encounters,  spiritual moments happening with open sharing of our disease--humanness.
 

Meditation goes beyond limitation of words and thoughts.  In early schooling I was told Who God is. I had been given an image of God.  But none of that is as I now imagine.  I make no attempt in word or thought to visualize God.

Hundreds of years ago a mystic wrote in The Cloud of Unknowing,  "You want to know God? There is only one way of knowing Him:  By unknowing."  I must get beyond my mind and thought. Only then am I able to perceive Him with my heart.
 
And in noiseless moments, stillness, quiet, silence, I can "know God", at first vaguely, then more and more clearly as time endures. I can live in Him and He in me.  

Wake up now, Steve! There are some roses to smell...

Peeps?..............oh, THERE you are!
Peace.
Love.
Steve

Posted by steveroni

September 16, 2009

 *ACORN DRAWING (SQUIGGLING!)

--BY CES P ADORIO

MY GOOD FRIEND

IN UNISON

"Unison" will be published in dverse Poets Open Link Night #15 Tuesday October 25, 2011 

at or after 3 PM.

Come visit the magic of 150+ poets each week!

LADY 'GREETER' AT LIGHTNER MUSEUM, 

ST AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA

One of hundreds photos from our October 2011 trip...

 

IN UNISON

  

In fluffy cloud i see your face

in busy crowd i watch you

everywhere--you are there

as if

following

your feet steps

i could not veer

even if

from your youth

your truth

tried steering away

as if

you will not

disappear

no matter what.

It's as if

you precede me

until in every place we meet

again and once again

as if

in breeze softly

your sighs i hear

these and so much more.

as if

each floral smell

reminds of that scent

you lent, dear.

it is as if

what i ever touch

becomes that same feel

as your skin pressing on my own.

we are as if

so tightly bound

albeit unsound

as if it is

as it is...

--steveroni

VACATION REVERIE

I HAD A DREAM

Sunday night I re-lived a scene: --WWII newsreel in a downtown theater--which I viewed in 1943. My dream of a naval battle was as real and vivid had I lived it.

"Battle Stations...all hands, Battle Stations! Pilots, man your planes! Pilots, man your planes! We are under attack! Enemy fighter-bombers are incoming.

The excitement was beyond belief. Men--well, BOYS!--running up ladders, down, scurrying, rushing. Life-or-death for everyone. Apprehension reigned. Not from fear nor trepidation, but a definite anxiety showed on every face--strong determination in each beating heart, to work together to save our home, our ship, our planes, our carrier, the USS YORKTOWN. 

I was age 10 and knew so well these battles, following them on radio newscasts and in newsreel films at  movie houses. 

Now, in my dream nearly 70 years after, I heard once again screaming engines of Japanese Zero fighter aircraft, dive-bombing the fleet. I 'heard' this past Sunday night also screams of wounded, bloody bodies, some carrying their own limb--or limbs--limping along seeking some sort of heavenly help into that next life.

The scene next morning, Monday October 17, 2011.....

.....in Charleston, South Carolina I pointed my camera from that same stair-ladder as those who scrambled these same steps on USS YORKTOWN C-10, the second carrier so named. The first Yorktown had been sunk in 1942 during the Battle of Midway in the Pacific. This visit to a Navy Museum on the Carrier Yorktown was my first time on board "The Fighting Lady". Unforgettable, that's what it was. Anna and I spent the whole morning inspecting and snapping photos from engine room, to flight deck.

Wanted to give Peeps, 'peeks' of our vacation. Memorable as well, our greetings, meetings, and eatings!--with blogger friends Jessie R and husband Shawn R. They toured us around Charleston-Town. Such pleasure God allowed us. Also for the big things--sobriety, and the little things--a phone call from a friend far away, just to say "How are you?"...for all these I am ever grateful to our Creator-of-all-things!

Love and PEACE!

Published for and posted in Dverse Poet's Open Link Night (OLN)

TRIP 1 (Pre-trip)

USS YORKTOWN CV-10

One for the money

Two for the show

Three to get ready

Thursday we will drive to St Augustine FL, eat, attend a meeting, sleep, another meeting in morning, then drive to Charleston SC. And I am SO excited, really! Get to see one of my favorite “Fella-da-Peeps”, Jessie (that was Italian—grin!), and her husband, and several different rooms-full of members at meetings, and at breakfasts, dinners (restaurants!).

Beautiful city, lower humidity than Naples. I've been there (on my scooter!) Septembers of 2009 and 2010. Those experiences taught me this will be a FUN trip, of AA meetings, and meeting new Peeps. And of course, being with our friends. And all inspired by these blogs!

Jessie and S. have a load of crab feet—I mean crab legs--planned for Friday night after meeting on the outside cooker. It is a 'tradition' at their house to do a meeting-after-the-meeting every Friday where they live—with food! Maybe I'll bring a pound of butter, don't crabs always go good with butter? Now you know what a great 'cook' I am.

But I'm taking my own violin this time. The borrowed instrument last year left a little to be desired in quality, and other...but it was fun, at least for me!

Jessie can spend some time with us Sat and Sun, so I'm saving one of the following week-days to tour the WWII aircraft carrier pictured above. (Unless that interests Jess??) That's another thrill for me, as I only saw it in movie theater newsreels, as it was under attack by planes with circles on their wing—the Rising Sun. In early 1941-45 who could ever foresee that one day we'd be taking our vacation in a Toyota RAV4?

And yes, it is still a crazy world. That might be another post's topic.

For now, I can easily predict spiritual holidays ahead for us, even serene—grin! And yes, I know “God does not change flat tires, OR drive cars!” But He does everything else, if we let Him, and cooperate with Him...so I've been told!

Those of you who are Alcoholics, stay sober with us, and a prayer won't hurt—as we pray for y'all also. (Gotta get used to talkin' 'southun'! Pronounced “suh-thun”--grin!)

We also plan to visit North Carolina, then zip back for a couple days to St. Augustine Florida (more AA blog-friends there) before returning home October 25—then leave again October 28 for 3 days.

Who said old, retired Peeps don't have fun? (It's just that we take siestas in between!)

Bless you, all you blog friends.

Love, and PEACE!

THEN AND NOW!

Written for and posted to

Dverse Poets Pub's

Open Link Night

(Open Tuesdays at 3 PM EDT)

 

DREAM--A MIRROR OF REALITY

In sleep's deep I see

so far away, ago,

a life unfolded

imagined spies

real lies

daily scolded

years of tasting

forbidden universe,

drunken, drugged

unplugged...

...and the world

with its pretty face

finally, at the ugly last...

seemed a strange place

Altogether

correct, as written:

first time around...

IS my hell.

<*snap*>!!!

Wake-up time!

Mr Sunshine!

Show me that river

take me across.

From this moment

You be 'boss'.

My span of living

still happening!

Enjoying this sequel,

continuously-unfolding

invented time.

Exploring wood:

hiking trails

playing in the sea.

All people--gather.

Join as one...and 

let love guide

to promised land.

--Steve E

4/10/2011

IMAGE:

Dream Mirror of Reality 

by kimag3500

in Deviant Art

A COMMENT

Saturday morning I am driving to Central Florida to visit my daughter. She is moving several thousand miles away, and I may not see her again. This is a wonderful moment for me, to give my blessing to my daughter, to bless her choice of a new life, and new “Way of Life”!  Be back Monday....

A BROKEN MAN

The following I wrote as a comment early this morning to one who stated on her blog that “...once a human is 'broken' they can never be 'fixed'.” I could not resist publishing my comment here:

Dear XXXXXXX

I do not believe any broken person is beyond repair. My own life is my example--and my proof. 38 years ago (age 40) my life was over.

If my drinking did not kill me soon, I had planned to drive into a bridge abutment at high speed. (A policeman told me that is the easiest, least painful way to die.) Today, every time I drive past that bridge I smile, thinking back what I would have missed: A wonderful, mostly happy, sober life of freedom these last 37 years. (And there are no left-over, reminder bloody spots on that bridge support.)

I was completely broken, and have been 'fixed' by a Higher Power (God) Who brought me into Alcoholics Anonymous, and a new way of life! How can I not be grateful enough to spread this healing word just as I lived it?

Thank you for understanding why I did not give up--all because I DID surrender.

NOTE: “The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.”

--Jean Cocteau

PEACE!

IMAGE:  a_broken_man_by_NuclearSeasons

in Deviant Art