Voices of Recovery

Photo of Daddy-Monster

Photo of Daddy-Monster

I see an old photograph, daddy-Monster when he was about 25, standing with two of his brothers-in-law, dressed sharply, with confidence and self-assurance. I see a dad who’s not a dad. I see an explosive volcano. I see a raging...

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Powerless

Powerless

Paul is my nameOh what a recovery journey this has beenWillingness to heal from my childhood woundsEverything becomes a bit more clear since then.Reparenting brings me new insightsLooking at how I now look at things differentlyEveryone makes me feel less aloneSo much...

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My Right Leg Tells Me a Story

My Right Leg Tells Me a Story

I had a dream last nightI am dreaming latelyafter none for most of my lifeexcept for “stuck feet” dreams, repeatedly, the same dreamagain and again. Go back to sleep, it runs again.Thankfully those are gone now.The door opened around being the speaker for a speaker...

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Filling the Hole

Filling the Hole

It was 2004. I was incarcerated in Wisconsin’s Dane County Jail. I had forged checks on the account of my seventy-year-old friend, Miss Milele Chikasa Anana, one of the most prominent, renowned, highly respected members of the African American community, Madison,...

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