Exorcising Poems | Examples

Evolving Doors

He was dealt a bad hand, so of course he flushed
it down the drain
The house of cards collapsed on faulty grounds so
he built again on new terrain
He set his sights on new foundations with the intent
to build anew
Blueprints were drawn on solid ground to keep the
plans from falling through
The glassy house he was seeing through was nothing
more than a mirage
The games that are played are exercise, now he's
exorcising all facades
The deck was stacked from the beginning so of course
the push went to the house
Behind the scenes he was pulling strings while staying
as quiet as a mouse
His sleight of hand is David Blaine in the realm of those
that imitate
With every hand that's dealt he levels up, now it's up
to you to speculate
What you see as water he sees as wine, & he's getting
drunk off every glass
He just gets stronger with every sip while using adversity
as a form of gas

Incubus

When demons of darkness strike,
although it may seem dreamlike,
save for those who're self-aware,
it becomes our worst nightmare.

Entities that abound seek
humans whose aura is weak,
that they may vent feral lust,
by sexual thrusts unjust.

Rape in the ethereal
plane is also quite real
and victims live with their shame
alone, for who shall they name?

The incubus feeds on fear
but with God within, so near,
if we but seek help from Him,
we'll face not such trauma grim.

Invoking grace by prayer,
we are our own soothsayer,
exorcising the evil
demon by soul retrieval.

07-March-2023
____________

Pick-A-Title, Vol 35 Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

Exorcising the Angels

EXORCISING THE ANGELS
 
Armed with lethal joy, hard chromed, and brutally alloyed,
with warmth and good cheer, I blaze the deep dark depths.
Down into the hole, laughter in the wind,
the water is cold as we ride the winter stream.

It's pirate time as the clouds steal the sky.
The heavens are gone, but I wouldn't know.
Perhaps the spirit fades in the daily haze,
clouds so low, fog so thick.
So what?  It's to the frozen ground I stick.

In the freeze the flesh turns white,
later to shatter into the shards of black so final.
But the heart still beats, and the eyes still see deep
into the hole where the spirit dares not go.
So give up that ghost yearning for the heavens never more.

Who needs heights to soar when armed with lethal joy?
Broken-legged I march, new home sweet home,
with my bag of dead cats' bones:
Treasure trove for pirates sublime.

If Christ Were To Return

If Christ in his triumph and glory
Decides to unravel a new chapter and story
By returning from whence he departed,
He shall in stupefaction be started,
To find out this wanton era
Has indeed,  bested Sodom and Gomorrah.

He shall stagger to behold
A frail and lackadaisical Bi Mvondo on hold,
Exorcising with his magical wand 
For still more dominion over the land.

He shall in horror watch 
Men courting men as women watch,
Holding hands and darting pecks,
wantonly on chests and necks.

He shall the Levites behold in dismay
Roaming Inns both home and away,
Presiding over unclad bodies with an exposed scrotum,
A duty, absent on their holy curriculum.

He shall wince at the sight of the brewery,
And gape at the sight of the Levites' golden crockery.
For which the masses residing in carnage
Have been plundered and pillaged.

Shuddering, He shall run back to His Father
And on his way, pen an apology letter, to Sodom and Gomorrah.
                           © Temajung Michael T.

West Coast Battle

The mask as a disguise, to amuse to terrify 
 Beginning in man’s  first frigthened  ceremonies 
 Intimidating, punishing, shaming, exorcising,
 Protecting with pointed beak in an aromatic camouflage

 Time does not alter man’s rituals of compulsive assimilation 
 The angst the agitation relentless since time began 
 Man’s uncertainty and fascination the possibility of eterniity
 Here it is again in sweet scented carnival celebrations 
 In beaches and cities, in smoke filled mountains and towns 
 In deadly hospitals’ vapors and sharp clinical smells 
 Near wrinkled drying faces, the soft gasping young, 
 The sounds of sick whispers, the caws of unbelievers 

 Youth still laughs dancing in the sand daring the winds to     strike
 While we who have aged knowing how cruel life can be
 Gaze at the orange skies in a blackened moonllight
 Trying to just breathe.

Exorcising the Demons

Deep rooted fears manifest
Bubbles rising to the surface
Released at last from house arrest 
Mind-body emptied by divine grace

There is neither judgment nor shame
Upon viewing egoic fears jettisoned
Treating life as but a game
In blissful rapture positioned

02-September-2020

A Toast

Let us raise a toast
Exorcising the ghost
Fear-anger-desire
Love now our inner fire

Double check rancour
Onto which ego anchors
Emptiness magnetised
Divine bliss self realised

31-July-2020

Man's Follies

The mask as a disguise, to amuse to terrify to dodge
From the beginning of time in rituals and ceremonies 
Intimidating, punishing, shaming, exorcising, protecting 
From disease with pointed beak in an aromatic camouflage

Time does not alter man’s rituals of compulsive assimilation  The fascination angst and agitation of the unsolved mystery
Relentless since time began knowledge of deaths certainty
Again we sneer in sweet scented carnival celebrations

Youth laughs and dances daring the winds to strike
While we so much older know how cruel life can be
Even as we gaze dreamlike at the stars and the seas

Gaddaffi

Gaddafi

I see America dancing in oil sodden nights, nostrils stinking the scent of death 
Your ghost exorcising demons of colonialist clout, walking along banks of the lost river 
River that lost its freedom 
Your shadow suffocating under the smell of exile and scent of slums 
Gaddafi, propaganda is fart, fart deodorizing the winds of the villages 
I have a burning passion to bring back the dimples and wrinkles of this country. 
 


  
  
  
  
Ghaddafi
Ich seh Amerika tanzen in öltriefenden Nächten, Nasenlöcher verströmen den Duft des Tods 
Dein Geist treibt Dämonen kolonialistischer Macht aus, schreitet an Ufern des verlorenen Flusses entlang 
Fluß der seine Freiheit verlor 
Dein Schatten erstickt unterm Geruch des Exils und dem Duft der Slums  
Ghaddafi, Propaganda ist ein Furz, Furz der die Winde der Dörfer deodorisiert 
Ich spür eine brennende Leidenschaft, die Grübchen und Falten dieses Landes zurückzubringen.

Mute

Love and secrets
Yearnings bottled up
Desires tangled
In thoughts in deliberations
Mute, 
A voiceless heart

The fear unrelenting
Crushing my heart
My soul
Battering my confidence,
My resolve
Rendering me impotent,
Neutered
Mute
I can only be

Simmering deep inside
A love unproclaimed
Longing to burst forth, 
Blosom.
Emotions seething
Raring to overflow,
A torrent.
Mute
I remain voiceless.

The anxiety, abounds
A thousand questions,
Unanswerable
Overloading my heart
A flood
The insecurities, petrifying
My tongue inanimate
Mute
I can only be

The emotion uncontainable
The desire, the yearning
Hammering at my heart, 
Siege.
Sweeping all away
The doubts, anxiety.
Cleansing, Exorcising
But, Mute
Can I remain?

Love What Cruelty

I fell in love
With a creature so beautiful
Exquisite and outta my reach
Yet my stupid heart believed
Thought love conquered all
Foolishness, my downfall

Why is love this cruel
teasing drawing you in
Promising heaven on earth
You fall in and hard
A heart colonized, invaded
Debilitating to the core

Like a virus,
Spreading, multiplying
Filling my every pore
The yearning for her, Gosh
To touch her to hold her
Oh the cruelty of love

The emotion was too much
An obsession even
And the heartache was crushing
Bleeding my stupid heart dry
Poor stupid heart
Love? What cruelty

Twas harsh
A game played pon my heart
That i would feel this much
Long, yearn for someone
A love so deep.
Unrequited Unwanted

The realization
Sudden, grim
An arrow through the heart
Piercing, darkness  in its wake
Sucked my soul right out
Desolation, Love's consequence

The darkness, welcoming
Embraced me with a coldness
Numbing my heart
Exorcising my soul of all emotion
Wiping my slate blank
Love, what cruelty

Ghosts

Dense implosion of infinite desire
Dead to the sensual stirrings
Events search
Stretch for eager horizons
Blackness
Blackens the mood and raises spirits

Times spaces
Interregnums of intense longing
Hang limply on half uttered words
Pleading eyes call to the stars
Summon the traveling muse
Half dead moons and resurrecting galaxies
Milky in ways you cannot imagine


Gravity
Pulls with inimitable redoubt
Rotating doors of wondrous probing
Earth fire is molten
Baking the inner sanctums
Raising internal set points
Feverish flourish of action
Gyrating to the fulsome Rhumba
Peppering staccato of Saturdays
Dancing delirious
Exorcising gargantuan ghosts
Of tall imposing dreams

The Social Issue

Healing, making well, curing, relating to a paralytic, exorcising demons
MLK laid the path for black rights and equality  
Was Jesus social issue not the ill and disabled, health and medicine?

Ghost Hunt

Castle grounds at midnight
Spookily lit by moonlight

Black clouds were lowering
Ghost Hunters together hoping
Their collective thoughts emoting
Came greenish haze glowing
Tinged by ectoplasm denoting
An apparition visible floating
Long grey dress soaking
A grimaced face moaning
Panic stricken all noting
Few skeptics now disbelieving
Heard high pitch screeching
Saw bats come weaving
Temperature dropped to freezing
As someone tried communicating
Each attempt was disappointing
Until fading to dematerialising
They tried an exorcising
Fires of hell stoking
Their meddling chants invoking
All the ghouls residing
Gleefully saw them fleeing
As rain came teeming
Hunt no longer appealing.

On the Radio

on the radio; 
are songs,     my love, not words 
to bridge     this rift
you are     exorcising 
memories     of love, but why?

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