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| Ink block created and shared by "Dr." Lolamouse |
I remember high school, February 14th,
1981, like it was yesterday. Hallway
outside religion class, he handed me
a rose, smiled, walked away.
I remember heat, my hEaRtBeAt
my out-of-body experience
looking down upon class
as Father V. warned of occasions
of sin with prolonged showers.
I remember the weekend,
humming, placing petals -n- leaves
carefully between tissue,
closing the family Bible, piling
dictionary, algebra, history,
Harlequin romances on top,
a token of love, pressed,
forever preserved.
I remember the following Monday
as he approached with roses,
smiled, handed them to
my girlfriends, winked, asked for
our vote for ...
honestly I don't remember what.
I remember heat, my hEaRtBeAt,
my out-of-body experience,
how different it was
the second time around.
I remember I didn't open
this Bible ever again, neither
did my family, apparently,
until now as it has fallen
upon my toes and I am amazed
to feel the heat ...
by Margaret Bednar, September 7, 2013
Well, this is quite a different write for me... It's only loosely based on truth ... but Father V. really DID rant on and on one day about the opportunity for sin with over-long showers. He eventually left the church - and I must say, I did have some very nice nuns (yes they exist) and some wonderful priests at my Catholic high school.
Written for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads "Sunday Mini Challenge - Dr. Mouse Is in the House - Inkblots
and also linked with dVerse Poetics - Try to Remember.
36 comments:
I feel the cheeks burning, that happy weekend when Love was planted in a book.
Ouch re the roses. I smiled at the priest's ranting....I attended Catholic school too and got a wonderful education. But oh the guilt when even our DREAMS were "occasions of sin".
Showers? Really?
So sad about the rose being for political purposes. So many things are, these days.
It took me a moment to recognize this ink blot. It's the one I called "fish kissing" but upside down. Good trick, Margaret! Sideways wouldn't do, of course, but upside down was well done!
K
This might have been one of the best lessons learnt at school. People will buy votes in far bigger arenas than Catholic High School.
oh heck - how disappointing.. and the heat well felt...i once got jelly bears by a guy i was madly in love with - it was after i slipped at the pool and hurt myself badly - i was on a cloud for the rest of the afternoon - but that was it mainly - ha - was smiling at the shower part.. oy - well..smiles
I like how your persona feels elated first and then so disappointed. You have shown this quite powerfully. And I am glad it is only loosely based on truth.
I can relate but we had nuns telling us what to do and not what to do ~ You took me back to those trying growing up years Margaret ~ Happy Sunday ~
Sins in taking over-long shovers... I can relate to this... I grew up during time of energy crisis... and taking long showers was certainly a sin... just like freezing in a house that was around 16-18 C inside during the winter... But I assume that thas was not the sins the priest talked about... that dissapointment of a rose given like that... so sad
mmm nice change in the heat....from the one of adoration by them to realizing it was not as special as we hoped and the heat of pain in our heart...those feelings can def life on when faced with a tangible memory...
Aww...
I went to a Catholic high school, too. For the most part, it was a great experience. There was one nun, though, that kept tarter sauce in her room for repentance.
Ouch. Love and heartbreak do, indeed, cause similar symptoms. And guys are such jerks! Your poem brought to mind a time in middle school when a boy handed me a folded piece of paper. I thought it was a love note, but when I opened it, it was blank and he was laughing with his friends. Ugh.
I still have some faded, pressed flowers in my dictionary. Whenever I happen upon them, a surge of feelings reemerges.
Thank you for sharing such a personal and emotion filled poem/memory.
This made me smile. I could feel your excitement when you were given the FIRST flower and your disappointment when you found that they were distributed to many...and for non-romantic reasons. Sigh.
I hope it is true that you really DID come upon this flower that inspired this poem.
I felt the blush of heat. It is sad to think how it made you feel and how it truly was meant. Votes swayed-so sad! This was visual and well done~
Yes, thank you for sharing this personal passage-we all have been there!
i liked this a lot. sums up teenage years pretty well. :)
First of all, I love nuns! I am not Catholic but I feel like they work so hard, and do not get very much recognition. I'm sure there are some difficult ones, but they really do work hard.
Now to the poem -so much sweetness and fun here and your visual descriptions --especially the variety of books stacked on the Bible are wonderful. I had a funny experience of this kind - I'm sure many of us have had- which is part of what gives this sweet poem such a broad appeal. Thanks, Margaret. k.
... I do have a pressed flower that brings a flood of emotion - but it is a good memory and the priest I had my sophomore year in high school was over the top to put it politely, and I did have numerous embarrassing/agonizing teenage "moments" which I often prefer not to think about ;P
But this specific poem/story was triggered by the ink blot as I saw a rose.
Love the unexpected direction this took. Well done.
Ha I loved this poem. Prolonged showers as an occasion of sin Hilarious.We had little contact with priests in our convent...just as well it seems! The nuns told us that when dancing with a boy, pressing of the flesh body contact was an occasion of sin and that was why God created rock n roll:)
I like the idea of faded pressed flowers from whatever occasion....prom corsages, sweet peas and roses....the other day while cxleaning I found an envelope that had in it the remains of a sample of my mother's wedding cake..it had disintegrated! But this is a teen moment for real..
I can't even imagine what it must be like to be a hormonal teen trying to cope in 'religion class' with an obvious loony like that, but I agree, with Karin, that many good people share good things and work hard in that framework, so maybe that makes up for the batguano crazy ones. AFA the poem--the weight of the betrayal in that Bible could crush continents! So well expressed and layered, Margaret--really impressive, and great connection to a pressed flower in the inkblot.
Aww! well that moment well, it was etched well enough to be warm
This is bittersweet, you give us enough detail to bring it to life. Nicely done.
Margaret, what a great poem! it does feel like a different style for you, and i really like it. like a rock n roll song, all wordy and story-tellingy. your story is totally universal, too, even in its details. love it, more please!
I love your poem. Made me remember my own times in Catholic High School. The priest who warned about touching our bodies in the shower!!!
It was an all girls school so there were no roses.
I really enjoyed reading this.
Beautiful remembrance of that incident. How different the feelings must have been the second-time round... Beautifully expressed. I liked it.
The stanza about stacking the books to press the flower made me smile. I remember doing that!
Oh, this is wonderful. I felt the burning...both of crush and passion, and then of embarrassment and misunderstanding. Wonderful.
Love the visual here, and these dry rose petals suddenly giving a heat sounds very magically....Powerful inspiration you had here, Margaret!
I went to Catholic school through 4th grade. We had a nun that would go on about sin if we girls talked too much in the restrooms. We were about 7 and had no clue what sin was.
What a cool story, and to find the memory wrapped up in the old Bible and dried rose petals. It is a great story poem. :-)
I love that repeating line and the way that you varied the caps to lower case...so effective...such a vivid spilling of memory. I enjoyed this, Margaret!
Love this, it had me smiling as I found myself remembering too.
Overlong showers? Seriously? And I thought cleanliness was next to godliness, and all that. Wild.
One of the reasons I hate moving is that I find all these mementos
and keep throwing things away that assist my memory. We had nuns and they ignored us pretty much.
I can't say that I can relate dear nevertheless, your precision in choosing the right words is stupendous ! What an emotional ambush! Faithfully Debbie
I remember pressing flowers from my first love. This poem took me back to those teenage years, loved it.
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