Suicide Prevention——–

Follow my New Blog:

“Smile Forever”


Things will happen,

good and bad times, but

the day is long enough for both.


I love the wind, change—

the softness of days free of

doubt or worry.


God is spoken of in church

and I see nature’s beautiful

sky and horizon,


I think we’re all here for

a pretty good reason.

Things come together,


Seem made for each other,

dreams and waking time



I’m so glad to have another

day to think and write

and draw and pray.


Somewhere others are sighing,

writing and reading,

reciting or singing


And I think I hear them,

because I’m smiling now

despite hard times;


My day is long I let in the

tough, it passes and like

waves return to the sea.


Sometimes I could swear

God has made this world

just for me…


So I could smile forever

Good Poem–

“Hangin’ by a Thread”


Newspaper clippings unread,

swept aside they might find

the curb that drains to the sea.


Walking next to death we drink

to forget, walk side by side with me.

You smile, the buzz great, it

seems the sleep you always

dreamed it’d be, peace of mind

fleeting and after perfect days,


How can I keep it up for weeks

and months and years—this must

be it… my last day.


Self-pity’s got me tied to the bottle,

there’s no turning back I’ve decided

to turn my will and life over

to death, fuck it—the alcoholic

anthem, oh woe is me,


I’m hangin’ by a thread.

I’m hangin’ by a thread.


Truth, dreams, they pass away now

as I palm this beer what’s to do here

but swerve into this car they better

get moving, bend or break,

this is my last day, back pain, head

aches there’s no other way,


I’m hangin’ by a thread.

I’m hangin’ by a thread.


Look at me isn’t this great, the

talk of the town, one last time

to shine, maybe I’ll shock ‘em

go out in a blaze of glory, be

the front page story, wait don’t

forget those clippings heading out

to sea, that could be me.


Wait, I feel the pull, I’m stuck…

I feel funny, Someone or Something

is using me for good even when

I’m outta money, there’s a Power

unseen, God they talk about

it every A.A. meeting I’ve ever



They tell me if I can manage one day

I have it all, put a God in my life,

thank Something bigger than me,

live my passions, do what I think

God wants me to do…


Live one more day, live

one more day, realize that all that

dying stops the moment I stop

the killing. I’m sober now almost

10 years. The thread was God,


the needle was fucking A.A. man

I KEEP GOING!!!!!!!!

What else is there but LIFE?!!??!?!?!?!!??! you wanna “find out?”  Like an old “No Trespassing” sign I saw in Hawaii once…….. “Do you believe in life after death? Trespass and find out……..” Yikes, scary people!!!!!!!! (Or at least a scary sign–)


“Moving On”


Somethin’ in me changed,

the scenery it stays the same,


At first when you decide to live

yer not sure if it’s night or day,

but you plug away, a Frost poem

being read or performed down

a hill, it’s such a thrill, this life—


Apart the roughness, even in

its cool midst, the rough part of it,

flowers and poetry in the mist,

songs and rainbows, truth—

a sonnet in the MIX!!!!!!


This must be usable, the things

I dream unstoppable, I love

the song that sings us together,

unity, the goal, a sunshine hot

off cat’s back, snap a picture

this moment loves then changes,


Will it ever come back?


Ahh, the sigh part, then we get cozy,

sleep and dream of another,

I’m moving on, but not today—





So I just made a big book donation to the Salvation Army here in Pasadena, CA.

Books, baseball cards, football cards; the books?  There were items that literally kept me inspired enough to stay alive in hospitals and horrible places when I was in the midst of my confusion–

I’m making space for a music studio/film editing area, converting our storage garage…….

Once years ago, and at a time I was still battling with thoughts of suicide, I threw away 20 or so journals filled with poetry I had written, including my first-ever poems written in Mexico, some lines in Spanish, some in English–inspired, but “early” stuff……..

I trashed them in lieu of trashing my life, I chose to keep my piano, and moved on……..

I knew I sometimes made an excuse and thought, “If I die now, at least I’ll leave behind all my poetry–”  Well, that day I took that excuse and “insurance” away, forced myself to live in the presence, to be my message’s own messenger, to play the piano, to sing, to travel–

I threw my journals away, today some old sentimental books, but I feel light, and energized, and I love today, believe in it, the now, PEACE!!!!!!!!

I think I’m DONE!!!!!!!!

I mean, I’ve done it–I’ve blogged and written and posted the HOW I do it, the Why I do it–

I love life and it starts with Life, ends with Life, with Life in the middle.  A.A. gives me a lot, a brilliant program, crafty Christianity mixed with 20th century thought, namely re: psychiatry.

Freud, Jung, ID, ego, superego, the Collective Unconscious, replacing bad habits with good ones–

If you are anything like me:  ALCOHOL IS the issue, no matter how cleverly it hides!!!!!!!!

Once bit with depression and a case of the “I wanna die”‘s, the Devil himself will come down or up, whatever–nest next to your heart, he wants you dead, at least confused!!!!!!!!

Doing one thing is good, play the piano, go to a movie–there is a DAY in going out to the movies–trust that if you can do a couple simple, neat and or passionate things per day, then sleep…. that IS living, for LIFE IS A DAY, and if you can end up sleeping in a warm place, YOU ARE WINNING THIS GAME CONGRATULATIONS, uhhhh—maybe go and help others win NOW?!!??!?!?!?!!??!

I love you with all my heart, you are special, PEACE AND LOVE!!!!!!!! –William Ward Watkins, alive:)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was suicidal for about six years, off and on, up and down, in hospitals or trying to get along in the real world…

Suicide has a great buddy–Alcohol.

Self-destruction is self-destruction, self-harm is self-harm, once you start to cut a little, next comes a bigger and bigger cut until your life is threatened!!!!!!!!

Alcohol consumption is a little cut t first, but kill enough cells with the substance, cut off enough good circulation, and WORST OF ALL:  CUT OFF YOUR DREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!! … and you will be in trouble–

Alcohol can be a dream-killer, it was for me, and now I’m trying to get some back, build some new ones!!!!!!!!

Those who can’t do, teach; those who can’t do, nor teach, get drunk–