Paradiso; A Step Back Into my Past

I found a poem I wrote in college. It was part assignment and part what I was feeling, seeing, and experiencing with some friends. I read it now and part of me thinks “This is great.” The other part of me wants to tear it apart and re-write it. Always a critic 😉

I decided to share it because it reminds me of who I was and who I am now. I was a young girl who loved writing, was trying to fit in, and struggling to discover my own identity. I am now a woman who still loves writing, realizes that fitting in is over-rated, and has a changing identity moment by moment; wife, mom, friend….

I also wanted to put this out there for my kids. I am more than a mom. I am more than a housekeeper. I am more than a teacher. I am a person. I have strengths and weaknesses. I want them to embrace that about themselves. They have strengths and weaknesses and that is OK because that is human.

Paradiso (July 27, 1997)

A dim, yellow glow illuminates this small, smoke-filled abyss.
The atmosphere is dark and heavy, yet tantalizing to the soul.
It cries out to the naive in a moaning sort of way.
Deceivingly, the sweet smell of virgin innocence beckons one to enter.

In the depths of my body awakens a new sense–a demon from within.
The sensuous call from the sinful spirit wets my appetite for the night ahead,
Drowning in a sea of intoxication, I find this damning abyss quite appealing                         to the hunger that rampages throughout my body and soul.

This dark confinement is devoid of all purity, yet it still allures one to enter,                            appeals to the senses, and causes sin to become guilt-free.                                                 The agonizing weight of the iron chains, that weighs down each prisoner,                            seems to go unnoticed as the disillusionment slowly kills one at a time.

Dizziness sweeps over my small frame as the titillating rendezvous kidnaps my heart.       The agonizing meeting is not the first, nor is it the last.                                                           The hour on the clock is insidious as the sly serpent seeks out a new victim and the           sleeping virgin falls seamlessly further into the abyss.

2014-08-23 11.46.40

For those interested I got an A- on this poem. I had to read it aloud and she marked me down for talking too fast.

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