Too Many Broken Pieces To Repair My Life –or can i glue my life back together?

I put my dream of writing on the basement shelf

in 1978 after writing 12 poetry books.

I was ready with a title and the poems for

another book.

I self-published my earlier books

and was responsible for sales

and distribution.

 

It’s too many years now

to reach that dream of success

or

is there

still time?

 

Who would remember me now?

With the new publishing technology

where do I begin to publish,

promote and distribute?

 

It wouldn’t be difficult

since we have eBooks

and print-on-demand  books.

 

I am unsure of my writing

now.

Back then in 1969 when I

published my first book —

WHEN TWILIGHT BEGINS

I was able to develop a following

of readers.

Letters would come to me most days.

After the 12 books were published

I let my reader slide away

and I’m fortunate to have

two dozen on FaceBook.

 

I am great at rambling as you notice.

Feel free to request to be my friend

on FaceBook as I do a lot more writing

there then you will find of WordPress

at this time.

You will find me with

white hair and beard

living in Madison, Indiana.

 

Thanks for stopping by

and visiting.

Leave me a note if you have time.

 

 

Sending love.

May God be with you

and protect you in this tough life.

 

—- Jim Wortham  4/2/19

 

 

 

 

 

 

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DRUG USE IN MADISON, INDIANA

 

I am getting older.

I think the youngsters need someone younger.

I’ve worked pulling kids and fathers and mothers

out of drug overdoses.

I’m getting tired.  The drugs are becoming more powerful.

A policeman told me today that he brought a man back alive from drugs

and when the  man woke up he tried to kill this officer

(from the effects of coming out from a drug induced almost death).

In the end, the man had a heart attach and died (not the policeman).

 

I have worked in this town about 23 years

and have seen every drug on the increase.

I’ve been offered drugs (no I never accepted them).

I had once lovely lady shoot up

with a needle in my counseling room.

I asked her what was happening —

she said she was taking insulin for diabetes.

Minutes later I called 911 as she went unconscious (she lived).

I’m ready to start writing poetry again as I did in the 1970s and 1980s.

 

Thanks for taking time to read my story.

Blessings,  Jim Wortham

 

 

I can’t sleep tonight

Have you ever had nights like mine?

Unable to sleep

even when drinking a glass of warm milk

and eating cookies?

Sleeping medication is not working.

I watch the clock tick away each hour

from 10 pm to 5 am.

What is one to do when this happens?

I try praying to Jesus.

Then I pray to God.

Then I pray to The Holy Spirit.

I don’t want to miss praying to the right one.

I don’t pray for sleep anymore

when this happens.

I pray for others, both friends

and enemies.

I must need this time

to get my soul and spirit in

the right place with God.

If I die soon I want Jesus to know

I am ready to go and will be stepping

from this earthly plane to the

heavenly plane.

I  learned this in Bible School

so it must be true, doesn’t it?

 

Good

night- night.

OUR LIVES TOUCHED FOR A FEW MOMENTS THEN THE CHANCE WAS GONE

Why was I afraid to ask your name

and phone number?

We met walking in a park.

 

That happened in my teenage years

and I wonder why I did not give us

a chance.

HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN YOU WANTED ME?

When we were teenagers

we were afraid of rejection, weren’t we?

At least, I was.

Maybe I was and you weren’t.

You always said hi when we passed

in the high school halls.

You were beautiful.

I was shy.

You were popular.

I only had a few friends.

I had no idea you wanted me

for more than a friend

until many years later

when we somehow met in

Leonard’s Bar and Grill.

You shared you had gone

through three divorces

and was in an unhappy marriage.

You said you always wondered

what would have happened

if we had gotten together

back then

(way back then)

Would we be together?

I’m married now

and I guess the story

stops now.

But I am glad we met again

and to know

once upon a time

we did have

a chance together.

The counseling room

I have heard

you can look into the person’s eyes

and see into their soul.

One can see sadness, love

and, oh yes

sometimes even evil.

 

 

I have seen or felt

most of these

feelings and longings

from people in my

counseling room.

 

 

I may have avoided  harm

by identifying evil

from a person’s eyes

(or sensing the presence of evil)

in the counseling room.

 

 

I sometimes saw

those who had intense hate

(within themselves)

while talking with me.

They admitted being hooked on drugs

and now,  admitted to being

desperate to find money for

the next fix,  and to get money

any way possible —  One person said

“I ALWAYS FIND MONEY FOR DRUGS.

I WILL GET  THE MONEY.

NO MATTER HOW.”

(Yes, I am sure that includes

stealing and killing

if a person gets in the way).

 

 

I am lucky.

However, I would rather believe

God’s angels surrounded me…at all times.

Being kind to each person

and offering hope

seemed to be what they needed.

I was never attacked

(I sometimes prayed for protection

silently during a counseling session).

 

 

 

I read about counselors

found dead

after seeing their clients.

I often wonder what the counselors

said to bring that anger

from their clients

that caused their death.

Maybe there was nothing

the counselor could have done to prevent death —

the counselor may have been with

the wrong person at the wrong time.

 

 

Drug use seems to be an entry way

for evil in some people.

 

 

I don’t have the answers.

I never claimed to have answers

to why evil happens all around us.

 

 

These words are for you my friend:

“May God protect you

from the evil in this world.

May God’s angels surround you

and protect you always.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mayday, Mayday! “Bowman Field Airport, please standby for a crash landing! Do you copy?”

My hands and heart froze.

I had no business

flying with so little experience.

I never overcame the fear of flying.

 

The employees at Bowmen Field Airport

called me white knuckles

because my knuckles were so

white as  I held so tight to the flight controls.

 

They told me to relax,

that crashing is not a bad way to die.

They continued, it happens quickly–

You die within a short time  if the propeller stops.

Yes, they were joking.

 

My next time flying

the propeller sputtered, then stopped.

Time stood still.

 

Verses from a song

I often heard in Sunday School as a child

flooded my mind.

I think I could almost

hear my Sunday School classmates

sing it right there in the plane.

Of course it was only my memory

from years past.

 

The song goes like this:

“Jesus loves me, this I know

for the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to him belong;

they are weak but he is strong.”

 

Suddenly I felt a presence within the plane

the presence filled

the co-pilot seat next to me.

I remember saying outloud

“Jesus, is that you,

are you  with me Lord?”

 

Words I once read

in the Bible flashed across my mind —

“The Lord is my Shepherd

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in

green pastures.”

 

At that very moment my eyes glanced

downward — I had glided over farmland.

I  remembered during my first lesson

I was told my plane could glide

for several minutes until I located

a safe place to land and to always look

for a patch of farmland.

 

I was flying a Cessna 152

with a propeller that stopped spinning.

That moment is frozen in my mind.

 

I slowly and gently glided

onto a clear level area on the farm land.

 

When I stepped out of the plane

the words from the 23rd Psalm

flowed through my mind again —

 

“The Lord is my Shepherd

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down

in green pastures.”