Book Description

When I first tried to get sober in 2014, my life was falling apart. Even though, through out years of drinking every day, I was functional. I held a job, had a mortgage, cars, a family ... but I was coasting, and some point, I had lost the will to love and love life. At that point, I hadn't lost any of those things yet because of my drinking, but I was on a road where I could very well lose everything sober. I would rustle up a few months here and there, but I was going insane. Thinking on my own and pushed me to the brink of insanity. Something wasn't working for me, and so I kept going back out there. With the encouragement from my wife, and an ultimatum from my family, I sought help from people who have lived through this to tell their stories, including a dear Uncle. In 2015, it finally stuck, I established a sobriety date (07/29/15) but I still needed something to keep my hands busy during those key times in the evening when I used to drink the most. My wife, reminded me of all those lovely songs (I am a songwriter as well) and poems I used to write for her when we were dating, and was embarking upon a writing journey of her own. Knowing how it helped her, she stuck a typewriter in my face and said, "write, because I know you can." Just over a year later, My Sober Little Moon is born. In this collection of poetry, I chronicled the early days of sobriety during 2014 when I failed to see the light, and in 2015 when I found an answer. Each piece takes the reader through the pain the addiction caused others, how I viewed himself, my Love and the world as I learned to live life without alcohol. In those early days, and still to this day, I identified with a wounded bear, and the phases of the moon, and I wanted that to play into the images in the book. In late 2014, I took on the pen name of "The Poetry Bandit" because I felt like I was stealing back my love for language and poetry and to do something worthwhile with it. I had an English Literature BA, but had wasted all that knowledge and passion. It was time for the Poetry Bandit to make up for lost time.