• Past Articles

Beneath Tears, Sorrow, Frustration & Pain My Sonnet Hides – Cassandra Smith

  Tear soaked eyes blind me, pushing through; I attempt to write a sonnet. My frantically beating heart emits gratitude – Shakespeare isn’t here to witness bleeding bodies run for cover, scatter to the ground falling on it Screaming, mass confusion – festive country music morphing into fear No, love songs are not on my mind, in my head – acrid smoke kills oxygen Police personal – leading frightened people to safety again and again Bullets whizzing overhead hit targets, paying no attention to different dialect A mystery – no racial, cultural, or religious bias – no barriers to deflect Flowers still bloom, birds still fly, carrying olive branches preparing to sing Lady Liberty clutches her heart and waves our flag – Red, White & Blue Apologetic church bells gong, calling out for peace with an earsplitting ring A man, a gun shop, ammunition, automatic rifles, point at him, her,… Continue reading

No Choice But To Move – By Lisa Perez

…if only the doubting self could Spin counter it’s orbit She stands Still Even though she knows Better will always Come here and Now Those miles clear But corners are tricky Can’t see past the bend’s Blind spot She got up and made coffee And thought about leaves Good Mourning doves Paced at her doorstep Her heart quickened She sipped slow What was she supposed to– Remember? The pace of cow’s chewing grass The length of animal waste A sloth convention The therapeutic process The speed of a snail The time it takes to cook a turkey She has no choice but to move She has no other move but– The chess board demands an opponent Lest she be mawed Or eliminated Threatened Dis-eased Stepped on Raw She looked up from her cup Ah, she remembered: “change” She was moved Your turn… Continue reading

Socially Acceptable – Spoken Word Poetry By Linda Sheridan

I came across this spoken word piece just yesterday. It’s written and performed by a beautiful Irish lady called Linda Sheridan. It’s powerful and poignant and comes straight from the heart. I was delighted when she agreed to share it on I Love Recovery Cafe. Below are some lines Linda picked out has her favourites, which are very fitting for this platform. Please take a listen to the full piece at the link below.       “Medication the new vice of this generation a world full of sedated minds making decisions for a nation – it seems everyone is medicated on some level nicotine, caffeine, solpadeine, antidepressants, sleeping tablets, and of course class A’s”   Continue reading

One of the precious gifts of sobriety is a grandchild who never saw you drunk – By Cassandra Smith

  Precious, Precocious, Lyric Running, rushing, reaching up, giggling & smiling like- an angel Pushing her love in, touching every nook & cranny of my heart  Eyes lighting up like- fireflies sweeping through dark night Clinging, holding on, wrapping chubby arms around my legs  Refusing, daring even mommy- to separate us/pull us apart     * Two years ago, a tiny infant- soft, soft, skin/ baby face pressing against My breast- baby oil & baby powder, intermingling like dancers Drooping eye lids, tiny head falling, jerking up, falling again Dismissing sleep without her music-video music/ only Bruno Mars Playing piano & singing her favorite song “When I Was Your Man.”       * Lyric- sitting like a princess, surrounded by balloons-crown on her Head -eyes roaming /birthday cake, party favors, lots of kids with presents  Eyes sparkling, smiling wider than ever. Singing, “Happy Birthday to me.” Blowing out candles… Continue reading

The Visitor

  And we walk in shadows, always asking for something, always hoping to be seen, heard, loved… Yet trees grow tall, so old, unconcerned with this and that or who they might be today, or tomorrow… Eventually we too will be relieved of this duty to be… and simply exist unaided by the silly idea that there is anything we need to do to be beautiful… Eventually we will simply open our eyes and smile…. and smile at the brilliance we had mistaken for something dangerous, something terrifying, something we assumed was unneeded, not yearned for… yet always right there at the door knocking softly, not wishing to intrude, to shower you in the taste of freedom… in the grace of unbounded love Nothing to do at all… nothing at all… You are so beautiful my eyes dissolve in your brightness, my flesh turns to light. © Daniel Cryns 8/2012… Continue reading