Reposting: Forbidden Waters

Just realized comments turned off…. now on….

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Today I listened to a YouTube video and it reminded me of my poem (Thank you Susi.)

This is a poem I wrote about 6years ago. Repost from a blog posted back on 4/18/ 2018.

I now have the tag #ReligiousTraumaSyndrome or #RTS.

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Forbidden Waters

“When we are not sure, we are alive.”
—Graham Greene

Sitting in church gazing through the window
The sun beckons me to leave.
The preacher rages on.
I believed. I was trained. I was sure. I was dead.

The preacher’s sermons sound like a drum beating in my head:
Only whores dance, rock and roll is for drug addicts.
Thou shalt not have fun. The sun hid behind the clouds.
I was naive. I was trapped. I was scared. I was dead.

Out in the brazen sun, I tested the waters.
A small transistor, hidden under my pillow,
Melodies, lyrics of wanton acts spoke to me
I was listening. I was tempted. I was not sure. Was I dead?

I followed the path illumined by sunrays and jumped into the pool.
There was no life preserver, I struggled against the waves.
My head came above the surface. I heard cheers and jeers.
I was escaping. I was scared. I was rebellious. I was not dead.

I met a girl who danced and loved rock and roll.
She was neither a whore nor an addict.
She enjoyed the full sun. She was not trapped.
I believed. I was free. I struggled. I was alive.

by Ruth 1/28/2013
revised 4/22/2013

aka RuthScribbles