lies

Sunday Thoughts

Sitting in a pew

Preacher speaks his lies

A bird hits the window

And slowly it dies.

 

Twidling my thumbs

In my pretty pink dress

I can't help but think

The bird has it best.

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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

Secrets

There are no secrets that are safe,

In fact, 'safe', is much a thing of the past

When it comes to a 'secret',

Best to just keep them for the good things,

The ones that last!

 

2:58 PM 6/25/2013 ©

 

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHm9MG9xw1o

Author's Notes/Comments: 

About how people can be stupid when it comes to honesty. (not truth, which is something all together different)

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHm9MG9xw1o

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The beast within

Beasts come in many forms,

they can be made or they can be born.

When your strengths become your weaknesses,

This can push gifts toward the worse.

 

So many questions to be answered

Yet there was no one to turn to.

Uncertainly blocked any progress,

The beast thrashes in return.

 

Proceeding instability,

Emotions set in quick.

Falsify, or repeat rejection of true self.

 

Normal normal,

What more could anyone want you to be?

Be quiet, be patience,

Be able to control thy self.

 

Little pedestal child,

With misunderstood needs.

Craved attention, meaning, and knowledge,

But was left to her own unease.

 

15 years later...

 

What? WHAT?!

I've never read about myself in such a fashion.

Overwhelming sensations appear.

Thoughts and feelings become clear,

only to bring on a new fear.

 

What now? and how?

So many thoughts,

So many steps.

I will make peace with the beast if its the last thing I do.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my feelings and thoughts about rediscovering I'm gifted on 6/19/2013

Vain

"Beautiful was her name, in her 


heart she kept the same. When


the time came to prevail; she 


swore never to say the Lord's 


name in vain."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Will you wait in vain?

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tags:

my ode to whistleblowers

Folder: 
belief system

Whistleblowers whistling like my kettle
Lifting the lid on the sordid and rude
People with power; rug from under
Pyramid scams; power slipping; true

You see, good people haven’t the stomach
To carry out deeds that are wrong
Just who is it that writes the rules?
And who benefits? Not you; be strong

Is it Illegal killing or Dodgy vaccinations
Maybe even crimes against humanity
Pride ensures you stand your ground
You know right from wrong surely?

I know its hard to do, but you have to
Stand up for your rights; humanity
Needs some troops; you: surely?
You have done well in this world

Where others done not so good
Like it or not, you’ve played your part
Others suffered for your livelihood
For sure, payback time: Understood?

Don’t fancy a fight for your life?
Head in sand; eyes in traffic lights
At least try to do some good
Your district, your patch, your hood

Blow the whistle on undoubted wrongs
Or help an old lady across the road
Either will do, intention is good
Shine white light in your Neighbourhood

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Hide - February 21, 2013

Conflict's repitition leads to progression severed;

a life in which the enemy you're no better.

Outrages, rampages, fights beyond any cause

lead to a world in which you're no better off.

 

The only resolution to a problem so unreal

is to find a place where you no longer feel.

The pain of others on your life already cold,

forces you to hide to cover up what you're told.

 

I need to escape from all these lies;

these indescribable pains, all the time..

I need to recover, to get a hold on myself.

I will discover what truth is left at all.

 

I sit alone in the blackness of reason;

a pathetic target for the others to tease on.

I don't want to face the pain of publicity,

but I cannot stand the pain of no honesty.

 

Cover me in paint, lock me in my coffin,

never let me see, let not any light in.

I need to be concealed, need to be away

from the lies, scars, and pains of every day.

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my ode to Sarin Gas in Syria

Folder: 
current affairs

Tales of Sarin Gas Attacks

veiled as more bent facts

by a biased media crew

all designed to dupe you

 

like invisible WMD's

divide and conquer certainly

another excuse to invade

a resource stealing charade

 

and a platform for war

with Iran Next door

Jordan; 20,000 yankee soldiers

just waiting to get bolder

 

for that, need an excuse

on Iran to tighten the noose

just for resources again

not forgetting central banking

 

Mr A president of Iran

listen to speeches; a good man

love conquers everything

true life does it bring

 

no need then for stupid war

and the stealing of resource

wholesale change coming soon

will effect both me and you

 

going to get dark before light

then bogus wars out of sight

dont believe lying media scum

they just want you to be glum

 

and their paymasters profiteer

when any war comes near

dont give lies any energy

you need it all for yourself you see

and big love from me

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Wild Ride

For young boys whose attempts to fornicate get a "no",
It could be wise to demand she live up to her word,
For you grow in a world too excessively mired,
By the use of words tainted through the educations
We grown ups have inspired,
A "no" from a girl any age can mean lust,
Or a lifetime of labels it can easily cost,
Even if she proclaims it was not what she meant,
Know her words will mean little to the judge,
There will be no one to blame but yourself,
And your name cursed for life, holding the grudge,
Abuse can be real and believe that it's wrong,
But the meaning it seems can be twisted,
Be discerning about this, and weigh every word,
Please don't let yourself be that easily black-listed,
Even marriage won't guarrantee you won't get a dingbat,
Our society's become quite a sham,
Don't be rushed into things you're not sure of,
As the woman has taken the wheel, I'm not lying, this is real,
The world's changing...as fast as it can.

 

 

6:17 PM 4/17/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A word about abuse.