You can pretend I never happened
Expunge me from you mind
Exorcize the ghost of me
Leave it all behind
You can play the role of happy
On your convoluted stage
Recite the same old monologue
Act profoundly unafraid
Go ahead, do all those things
But that won't change the truth
That once we flamed each others souls
I remember,
And so do you.
I know you still must think of me
You miss my skin, my touch
The way my teeth would nip your lips
You couldn't get enough
But now that it's all over
You want to show me that it's fine
But I see you and I know you
Staring at me all the time
I caught that little flicker
The dancing in your eyes
I feel the heat, the want it in
I recognize the signs
So keep saying you've forgotten
Denying 's what you do
But that won't change the simple fact
That I remember
And so do you.
Categories:
exorcize, angst, desire, feelings, longing,
Form: Rhyme
Exorcize restraint
Disrespect in the bedroom
Habitual sin
Categories:
exorcize, confidence, encouraging,
Form: Senryu
Oh, it is like any other night
Quite quietly still
Neither a stir nor a quiver
Neither a hush nor a shush
No stars, not even the moon
peeking through the dark quilt
of a shadowless night.
Yet my heart is pounding heartlessly
Yet my mind is meandering mindlessly.
It is about time to curl up and repose
let my soul slumber and debunk my ego,
But wonder why my spirit is so restive?
My emotions unruly,
Why this night is sabotaging my sleep?
Loneliness, like a black Mamba,
slithers over the white marble floor
of my bedroom and coils itself up
around my wayward thoughts,
It tightens its grip to exorcize the
dark demons dwelling within my soul…
Doorbell chimes,
Someone’s at the door!
Categories:
exorcize, loneliness,
Form: Free verse
Monsters should look like monsters....
But most don't.
I mean, some will actually
warn you that they're monsters,
But generally... most won't.
Instead... you see
People you like,
People you love,
People you trust.
People you have fun with.
People you lust.
And, that's why I firmly support,
Burning a BIG ASS M
onto their forehead.
One that never heals,
stays infected,
and maybe drips Green Puss.
Because ,
we need a better way to identify
these muhas.
A registration....
A muhin Monsters are Us....
& Let heartbroken mothers,
& traumatized kids decide,
who gets on the bus....
to ship these muhas,
to wherever the ,
monsters need to go.
Let the victims make those choices.
Give them a chance,
to exorcize their fear silenced voices.
It'll be a whole ass mess...
Because it's a whole lot of stress.
And, how it doesn't kill folks,
is anyone's guess.
And Psssstttt,
if you haven't been through it,
be a dear, and say less.
Go debate it with ya mammy,
Because, I'm standing by what I said.
Monsters should look like monsters.
Straight facts. No gest.
Categories:
exorcize, abuse, evil,
Form: Free verse
A full moon and the lunatics are collecting in the park
Oldies have seen it before, and the kids think it a lark
The lunatics are eating the grass, the kids, smoking it
There is some kind of strange guy; carrying, a tool kit
Those who live local, blinds down, as all doors locked
Weird days; but a full moon, should never be mocked
Cats are wailing, dogs howling, Granny is looking pale
Nothing new there, it is far too much time, on the ale
A bald guy up on the 7th floor; has binoculars in hand
He wants to see the naked ladies, dancing in the sand
Coppers; with any sense, are in booking their days off
Anything; from a splitting headache, to a nasty cough
Council workers, up at the crack of dawn, with an aim
Putting the remaining lunatics on the early morn train
For days after, others reading, and watching the news
A tramp in the park that disappeared, all but his shoes
The local priest pops in to do his monthly park exorcize
Others stand in amusement, whilst doing their exercise
As the full moon lunatics, are back home in their beds
Having no recollections of it all are in the land of Zed’s
Categories:
exorcize, crazy, moon,
Form: Couplet
...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney
He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the crowning glory.
So many vestiges, heros in the making,
but a careless chip, an errant slice,
consigns them to the beggars pile,
without that patina of agelessness.
Never ready, never groomed to wear
that sacred halo on their heads,
the crowning glory.
Once in a while a piece emerges,
bursting from the cold, defiant marble,
his fingers can't work fast enough
to exorcize this deity,
fingers, limbs and face in perfect symmetry,
they become eternal,
the suggestion of a wreath their crowning glory!
Categories:
exorcize, inspirational
Form: Verse