affirmation

The Confessional

Folder: 
human beings

It's the first Thursday of the month, and I'm standing in line, waiting for the nun to walk us across the schoolyard over to the church to confession. I am in fouth grade.

 

Sister: "Where is your beanie?"

Me: "Sister, I forgot it."

(Truth is, sister, I can't remember any sins to tell the priest today).

 

Sister: "Well, go get one of the extras from the box in the coat room."

Me: "Yes, sister."

(And for sure it's going to be either huge or so small it will fall off my head).

 

We get to church and now we are lined up on either side against the walls of the building. The entire fourth grade, two classes, one class on one side and one class on the other side, waiting our turns to go into the 4x4 pitch black room, where we will tell the priest all of the sins we committed that month.

 

Of course we get scolded at least once by the nun for chit-chatting as we wait in line. The thought goes through our heads, "Now, is that a sin?"

 

It's my turn and I enter the small room and feel about for the wall so I can find the kneeler and wait for the priest to open his little 'window'. In the interim, I can hear his muffled voice talking to the child in the booth on the side opposite to where I am kneeling. I can not hear the words, only a muffled sound that causes me to feel a bit anxious, for what reason, I have no clue. The whole thing is very strange to me every time I used to go, and as the years pass by, I find it even more strange.

 

Finally, the window opens, and light from his small cubicle where he sits shines into the small area where I have been waiting. Thinking about that alone, now an adult, explains the power they have over people for many years.

 

Priest: "Yes, child."

(Oh, thank God---I was wondering what in the hell that kid must have done. It was taking you forever, father.)

 

Me: "Bless me, father, for I have sinned, it has been one month since my last confession. These are my sins:...."

(Oh sh*t, this is the part I hate. What in the hell am I supposed to say? I don't mean to sound full of myself, but Jesus Christ!! I haven't done anything wrong this month!)

 

Priest: "Yes, child, you can speak---tell me your sins."

 

Me: "Um, I took the Lord's name in vain, father---well, not exactly but I thought the Lord's name in vain."

(Yea, just a minute ago--it's your fault too, for making me so damn nervous).

 

Priest: "Yes, child, that is a sin. What else?"

(Oh, man.... I better think of something fast.)

 

Me: "I told a lie, father,"

(Just now... f*ck!)

 

Priest: Yes, lying is not what Jesus wants for you, child. Who did you lie to? Your mother? Your father?

(Whew!! Thanks for saving me on that one, father!)

 

Me: "My father, but I also cursed someone---well, it was in my mind, father---I didn't really say it."

(*Sinister grin* Ok...I got this one...cool.)

 

Priest: "What was the curse word, child?"

(OMG, how embarrassing. Now I have to say the f bomb to a priest.)

 

Me: "Well, father, it was the word .... um...F*CK."

(Oh SH*T!!! I can't believe this! He is making a sinner out of me, and I was pure and holy when I walked in this room today!! God dam* this SOB!)

 

Priest: "Child! Where did you learn this word? Do you know what this word means?"

(Oh no. Now we have to have an interrogation because i'm trying to be honest with this sucker...no way. I 'm not goin' here with him).

 

Me: "I forget where I learned it, father,  I forget what it means. I heard it from an eighth grader waiting for the bus."

(Blame everything on the eighth graders when you're a fourth grader---it works! Now I'm really going to hell, cause that was a big fat lie, but holy sh*t--I can't talk to him about this stuff. The whole building could crumble!! Not only that, he's making this worse and worse, and I'm afraid of the dark to begin with.)

 

Priest: "Is that all child?"

(Is that ALL? You made a freakin' mountain out of molehill, dude!!)

 

Me: "Yes father. Well, give or take a couple more curse words."

 

Priest : "Ok child." (*mumbles some mumbo jumbo for about a 2 minutes while I sit humbly awaiting his absolution*) "For your pennance, you must say 3 Hail Marys and 4 Our Fathers---and God Bless you".

(At least he could have some suckers or a free movie ticket or something---that's all I get?)

 

I leave the confessional and go kneel up at the altar of the church to say my pennance, and while I do all the kids get scolded a few more times for chit-chatting, as we are comparing pennances....of which most often, everyone's is the same thing. 

 

I don't know how I ever made it to where I am today in my spirituality, but apparently, overall, it must have done something good for me. Just very funny to think back on.

 

 

 

12:22 AM 6/30/2013 ©



.......

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Catholic Confession in the 60s and 70s

Positive Epiphany

Caught in the moment,
Sometimes we forget to breathe:
A simple thing to forget,
When life drags you by the knees.

They say that life is all perception,
An individual vision to direct and command.
Expect the unexpected,
Make the most of what you have.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Simple but effective methinks.

 

View 's Full Portfolio

Mind Takes Root in Solace

To go against it would be jumping through clouds,

With no way to see what awaits to break the fall.

To embrace it would be to ride stallions across wildfire,

Leaving behind a trail of ashes,
All that was known sinks to the depth of time.

 

Tears could clear a path to solace,

No way to stop this horse from running,

Taking me to where the earth meets the stars,

Finding my place in foreign lands,

Speaking a tongue from your native language,

So alien to me, though it breaks the silence.

 

A barrier placed through icy walls,

Skin becomes tougher as it is frozen.

Skipped heartbeats take me closer,

To find myself back where I started,

A journey with no pursuit or direction,

Knowledge grows fruit on the tree of wisdom.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Moving forward, getting older... some things are valued when learned, some things always seem too late

Reality Daytrip

With death they say you rest in peace,

Is life seen as being such a chore?

Self-preservation spun around an introverted cocoon,

Instable thoughts run with the paint of a visionary mind,

One person’s vision is inspiration, but never to be sought alone.

 

Meandering rivers lead to future destinations,

An unstable raft leaving traces of broken pieces.

To survive and rise amongst the decay of meat and muscle,

Remembering the primal urge to live,

Mental salvation and a body to belong in.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Posting quite a few that I've written but not published. Should really post more often as I enjoy this site.

Featherless Wings

Spiralling down, the world turns sideways;
If only it would stay still I could arrange my thoughts.
Take what you own to pay for your own funeral,
A paralysed catharsis,

Trying to crawl its way into living.

A second hesitation hanging on a trip wire,
The explosion comes before the paranoia.
To fight such weak and juvenile demons,
Is an effort wasted instead of walking way.
Saying sorry for sorry's sake:
The changeling reverting to another seed.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Change is necessary as long as you remember where you started from.

Digital Industrial

Hammer to the bone,

Pain to make the heart beat slow.

There’s diamonds in the water,

Drinking sorrow with a bittersweet grin:

There’s so much effort put into hate.

 

Tomorrow rests on a hazy sunrise,

What is to become of resurrected, buried lies?

We sewed our eyelids to the warning,

Forgetting the echoes of careless whispers,

Withdrawing into a false sense of security.

 

Break the cycle,

Burn the trail,

Systematic slave on labour’s golden wheel;

Giving heart to a brainless machine,

Apathetic and lethargic:

Not programmed for reality.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's a revolution

The Hour We Knew

The broken pieces remain scattered across the floor,
Collecting dust and dirt as time drags on by.
We walk barefoot amongst the remains,
Staring each other down as though we are each other's prey,

Fear formed from when we once slept as one.
Sharing dreams and make-believes,
Dirty sheets are where the passion's gone.
Doubtful intentions on a pleading promise,
Replacement organ where you bleed and have none.

I tread cautiously into retreating,
Setting myself up:
Dead aim, on target.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

That moment. All it takes is a few words to destroy a man.

Ego Enigma

Folder: 
FUN STUFF!

Pluck all the haters
pluck all the lazy ones
pluck all thier insecurities
and chuck them in the annointed abyss

pluck all the users
pluck all the misers
pluck all the losers
and call them to account and smash their egos in

pluck all the rumours
pluck all that defiles
pluck all their foolshit
and jam it up thier hopeless selfish ends

pluck all the attacks
pluck all the misunderstanding
pluck all their false bravado
and hang them with thier ineptitude deftly

pluck all the envy
pluck all the deciet
pluck all the faker lies
and return your glance a glacier icy slice

pluck all the energy
pluck all the time
pluck all the effort
and love it gently putting it into a worthy vein

pluck all the venom
pluck all the conspiracy
pluck all the Haters
and swap all the first 2 words l's with h's read now

pluck all the last lastlines
pluck all the the last words
pluck all their meaning last to first.
and all will make sence when going back and understanding what I meant.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I like puzzles and poems. I darkly morphed the two with an issue I feel strongly about.

Affirmation

Folder: 
2010-2012 Poems

No matter how it's dark and cold,
No matter how it rains inside,
It's your right to cry, your right to scream...
Your right to lose your way, to stand up, to dream.
You owe it to yourself to be alright,
Focus on the bit of spark, see through your light.
Lightning may strike, but persist-
Follow the sun and tell yourself:
"I am all I need to be."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

-(c)jerlin 29Sep11- written and posted in my FB thru mobile phone on my way to Songkhla for my angels in Penang.