“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones” — Albert Einstein

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Guardian Dear

I’m going to hell.
It’s on page eleven
of the Sunday Visitor
circled in red by my mother.
My mortal sins number in the thousands.
Does God keep a stroke count?
I don’t want to go to hell.
I’ve read Dante’s Inferno.

If I make her breakfast will it erase one?
How about if I put clean sheets on her bed
and flowers in her vase?
None of this matters if I miss mass on Sunday.
It’s on page eleven.

But she likes flowers.
She used to tell me that if I fell asleep in the middle of the rosary,
my guardian angel would finish it for me.
I believed her.
If I die in my sleep
before atonement is complete will my guardian dear
take it on the chin for me?
Mother, will you?
And about all those rosasires I never finished . . .
did they ever count?


Elisabeth said...

Great poem and one that resonates for me, lapsed Catholic and sinner.

I enjoyed your comment to Enchanted Oak on the joys of sinning with alcohol, Yvonne.

It's strange how we tend to divide life into good and band when really we need a mixture of both.

My father was an alcoholic and I drink, sometimes too much, but I wouldn't rate myself as an alcoholic, though someone from AA might beg to differ.

I fear wowserism as much as I fear alcoholism. I fear saintliness as much, if not more, than so-called evil.

Thanks for your inspirational poem. I enjoy your sense of humour.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Hi Elisabeth,
How nice to her from you. Thank you so much. I fear saintliness too, and some of the people that go to church weekly and then gossip out front afterwards. What is wowserism? Another ism to be concerned with? Thank you again for your kind pick-me-up words.

Victoria Dixon said...

OMG, I love this poem! Made me laugh and sympathize all at the same time. And I'm not Catholic. ;D Have you tried finding a market for it? Thanks for dropping by!

Yvonne Osborne said...

I actually just wrote it. Do you think there's a market out there? Maybe the Sunday Visitor? I actually made the mistake of submitting one to them a year ago or so. Duh. Thank you so much!

Liza said...

Oh so complex! Good for you for writing the things that so many of us think.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Thanks. I did have second thoughts about posting this but then thought...what's the point of a blog if we can't be honest with our thoughts and ideas?

Suzanne Casamento said...

Love this poem. I consider myself a "Recovering Catholic."

God is in everything. Your garden, your writing, the way you love.

God is not in the Sunday Visitor. Ex-communicate the guilt! ;)

Ed Pilolla said...

haha:) i am catholic, tho not practicing. if i attend a mass, it's by my rebel catholic friends in which a woman presides and the bread is a symbol of feeding everyone.

Searching for the Story said...

I absolutely loved this. It does a really good job of illustrating how empty certain individuals' protestations of piety actually are.

We're all sinners. None of us is untainted by that, and it doesn't make as all evil.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Thank you. Excommunicate the guilt? I like that.

Now that's sacriligious! Wish I could find such a group. Thanks.

Hi. Thank you. Thanks for commenting. Appreciate it.

Jemi Fraser said...

Very nice! :) All the complexities of our simple lives and choices!

Yvonne Osborne said...

Thank you.

Ed Pilolla said...

wonderfully reflective. you have an little bite to this, and it's gutsy given the religious element. i like it a lot. i just soak up this wisdom of yours where you are so comfortable to talk through questions. very few can pull that off.

Talli Roland said...

Oh, I loved this, Yvonne. And yes, according to Dante, the inferno doesn't sound that accommodating, does it?

The Golden Eagle said...

Well-written poem!

Yvonne Osborne said...

Thank you again!

No, not very accomodating. That's the understatement of the week! Thanks!

Thank you very much.

G-Man said...

Pax Vobiscum Yvonne...
Go and sin no more