Our Special Net  requires

Java and Flash 6 or higher.

Odes Index

The Ballad of

CHIPS, O'Boy

Copyright1998, 2006: Free Eagle Enterprises. Used by permission.

Looking up at Step One, when the Fun was all done,

And confusion and pain possessed me,

I heard someone say, “If you want it, this day,

This white poker chip sets you free.”

“You’ve tried betting your life, with no ante in sight.”

“Now this chip gets you into the game!”

“The players around you are so glad they’ve found you!”

“Sit down, over here… we’ll explain.”

We’ve got

Some Fishing CHIPS,

Some Computing CHIPS,

A few hard-headed marble CHIPS,

Holy CHIPS monks retired in recovery,

And cow CHIPS, slipping here and there,

But the old block CHIPS with their gray hair,

And their old blocks support the Twelve Step stair.

The Fishing CHIPS…

Blue-gilled they perch around the room’s back wall

And carp of life and flounder ‘round,

As head  o’er  ‘eel they fall.

“Holy Mack’ral, “ they’ll exclaim,

They’ll take a bait that’s soft!

When getting near the landing net,

Their bass keeps falling off.

Computing CHIPS…

They analyze and digitize each byte.

Their on-board ROM controls their life,

Their program won’t re-write.

It’s RAM they’re short, their modem’s dead-

They have no way to share

Until their hard drives crash,

And are restored by on-line prayer.

The Marble CHIPS…

They all look good. They once were monuments.

Their shattered lives they try to save,

But lack the common sense

To know they’re CHIPS. They think they’re whole,

Just dumped on by the birds!

Hard-headed marble CHIPS just won’t

Put action to the words.

The CHIPS monks

Come and find the word, take tokens two or three,

Get well, get job, get family,

Get God, and church, then flee.

They don’t come near the fellowship

That gave recovery.

A cup was filled…no longer here

To pass to you and me.

The cow CHIPS

Dot recovery land with fragrant attitudes.

On pity-pot there they will plop,

And try to sing their blues.

Stinking-thinking minds will shoot

Torpedoes at our ship!

We watch out for the cow CHIPS’ stink!

We just don’t want to slip.

What kind of CHIP

You’ll prove to be, right now I cannot see.

Read blank page thru page sixty-three,

And learn the ABCs.

We’ll know by page eighty-four

If ego we can strip.

By one-o-three, it just might be

That you’re an old block CHIP!

We’ve got

Some Fishing CHIPS,

Some Computing CHIPS,

A few hard-headed marble CHIPS,

Holy CHIPS monks retired in recovery,

And cow CHIPS, slipping here and there,

But the old block CHIPS with their gray hair,

And their old blocks support the Twelve Step stair.

The CHIPS off the block,

And their wonderful blocks,

Seem always to be there for me.

Big Book in one hand,

and one hand for my hand,

And a foot for my butt if need be.

Traditions and Steps

They pass down through their CHIPS,

They’re promising sobriety.

And God willing, this day,

This young Chip of a Chip

A block strong and sober will be.

The Ballad of CHIPS O'Boy

Copyright 1998, 2006

Free Eagle Enterprises (MGS)

All rights reserved.

Any use of this material prohibited.

EMAIL     OSN anti-spam powered by