On Saints, Scrupulousness, and Sacrilege

I remember
sitting at the bus stop in California,
my home
once, long ago.

My mother sang,
her hands raised high
as if she were entreating the gods
for spring rain.
I wanted to be erased,
even to just be a part
of the fables she so willingly spoke of,
to fade into the face of pale effigies,
into blackness or silence,
just anywhere
as long as
it wasn't there.

The bus arrived, late as ever.
After boarding,
I asked my mother
if she might be willing
to sing a bit more quietly.
A strange man,
bent and somewhat dazed
(no doubt, a product of some past-life
mind-altering, drug induced haze)
told me that I shouldn't be
ashamed of Jesus.
I replied that it wasn't Jesus I was ashamed of.

There were times
I myself was afraid
of hell fire,
of the pitch fork, yet invisible--
just itching to be stuck in my back side.
I surely deserved it,
I of the four ice-cube glass,
the one who knew three should be used
to honor the Trinity.

And kissing was surely
an abomination.
Procreation was a necessary evil
my mother had been forced to do
and I was the cursed result--
with my imperfect, dirt-laden soul,
I of the black heart,
wicked energy
which had to be quieted
and worn down.

To breathe was to sin
and I prayed and prayed again
for forgiveness.

I soon began channeling
my guilt into other directions.
A thousand calories a day--
what a gluttonous pig!
My size eight became a size two,
but I never would have guessed,
not until I drowned, once in a fitting room
while trying on a size four dress.

Somehow I persisted
and here I am, some years later.
I wonder how I got
from Mother Mary,
rosary beads,
and daily confession
to reckless,
and this

new found freedom.

Poetry by intothehaze
Read 866 times
Written on 2005-10-16 at 16:04

Tags Blackness  Silence  Erased 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
very good, an opening of the heart and soul. aye, that made me smile with it's not jesus i am ashamed of. that too with the piling on of the pounds i know all too well. just in the middle now of weight training lol 3 flippin' months of it and i am not looking like popeye yet :)