Long Exorcise Poems
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A sonnet by this arrant bard, an other,
whose sole half-brother, a real piece of work,
and single parent (mother like no other!),
together were no warm nor loving perk.
In her heart, mother disowned me in life.
My younger half-brother begrudged my genius,
whilst being a rival who sowed seeds of strife,
in mother, against me (how very jealous
was he?). But I, an outright bard, complete
and sheer, make their dysfunction a rhymed affair
to exorcise these memories: defeat
this duo by whom I'm “an other” in despair!?
But if I could return my estranged mother,
I still wouldn't—and call my half-sibling, “Brother!”
Don't let them see us
tremble! – it is what
they want. Don't let
them drink our tears of
sorrow...it will prompt
them to create more
heartbreak tomorrow. let
them hear, loud and clear,
of our definitive resolve –
we will not be divided
and scattered – these
Marxist, racist scum,
will also pay, here on earth,
long before they reach the
fires of hell....
(Lunatics With Power)
Soros, and his sponsoring
of Marxist, soulless DA's and Judges –
The squad, Pelosi's Luciferic Compatibles –
Time to Exorcise such swine, from their
sties of luxury, and into the pens of
our America Justice system, the very
same pens, they have manically emptied,
spilling criminal content back onto
the streets of our society, to
victimize our Nation's innocence –
Vote them out!
And then, Prosecute!
You’re not good for me
You’ve just got to go
You’ve brought me nothing....
Nothing but sorrow!
You’ve sapped all my strength
You’ve tortured my heart
You’ve crushed my spirit
You MUST now depart!
You’ve splintered my wings
You’ve wrung my soul dry
You’ve fed my mind’s beasts
You’ve made your girl cry
I’ve tried those potions
I’ve tried the fake priests
I’ve followed the rules
I’ve had sacred feasts
What else can I do?
What chant can I pray?
To exorcise you
There just seems no way!
You’ve made your own home
So deep in my head
I’m obsessed by you
Tormented in bed
Get out! Please, Get Out!
For I must go on!
Be exorcised NOW!
For my sake...be gone!
When I am all clean
With no demon trace
Then....
Posses me once more
With your angel face!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Our hosts were attentive, yet displayed fear
in their demeanour, noticed by our soul,
so emoting love, we let hearts draw near,
that thus invoking grace, they may feel whole.
They spoke of dark fate, caused by black magic,
of demons they needed to exorcise,
that future life by joyous, not tragic,
for which they asked for help from a priest wise.
Cajoling them to shift into silence,
we asked our hosts to be still and observe
vibrance of stillness sans thought violence,
reclaiming soul’s light with gusto and verve.
Affirming God’s light shines within each heart,
we smiled as we saw their demons depart.
Angels are almost silent
Subtle
treadbare steppers
subliminal stalkers
determinedly quiet
except at choir
a pair of cherubic hums
can equivalate
to the drones
of a billion bees.
Can you separate
the noises
of bouncing sparrows
on wet sands,
from belly-down
thin-skinned slitherers
roaming in beds of grass -
obscenely dense,
from burglarizing ants at a picnic party?
Angels are seen
since they come to visit.
Unannounced,
but friendly faces
beaconing
like lighthouses.
Their halogen coronets
fulgurate and exorcise
diabolical agency.
Other angels may be noticed.
An invasive host
shod in threatening boots
dangling peace and safety
but entangling angles
strangle.
Hopes
course
in descension:
brambles
boulders
ports of fire.
Cut To The Chase...And Tan Hat Man!
Though reading horror stories (macabre),
an only every now and again
genre crazy wave
washing over me like
a killer tsunami,
(subsequently fueling
desperation) to save
thine scrawny ****,
(a derriere laughing stock,
and hence cheeky of me to rave),
those rare occasions satiated, when
hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
nonetheless lock into
critical opening sentence determining,
whether adroit kingly author
nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
(me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself (by all counts once
a bad little kid) deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,
who fiendishly cackles
when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous
possessive gnarly hand
forcibly grabs my attention
presaging and frightening
yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),
where within the bazaar
of bad dreams epic,
which seems like forever,
when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
masterfully, immediately,
dramatically got woven
lady chattery teeth and all
withering wicked warp and woof
establishing (proof positive),
an excellently crafted
Chiral Mad heavily shades
of night are falling
gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
every cerebral space
with darkness, said
sub rosa prime evil punctuates
the mind this dream catcher,
whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
viz flight or fight blind
did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
up battleground formation
from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
the first page where the eyes
of drag'n my afterlife shined!
One lives in the darkness the other in the light, one sleeps soundly while the other dreams all night
One wears a halo atop their head, while the other has piercing horns that feel you with dread
I was the angel and I always watched over you, I was always there whenever you needed me to help you make it through
But you were the demon always looking for a fight, believing that everyone was out to get you although you knew this wasn’t right
You had things the hard way nothing was easy for you, and happiness surrounded me, or so it seemed that I never saw gloom
Until the day that our worlds collided and then I started to see, that I was sent to help you find your way on this painful journey
To a place where you could finally find happiness, and you could exorcise yourself and lay those dreaded memories to rest
I made you see and feel things that at first you didn’t want to, but then you opened up to me and at that moment we both knew
We were committing a sin because we should never have been together, an angel and a demon wanting to share forever?
How would that work? You wore horns and I a crown, but at the end of the day we turned each other’s worlds around
You showed me that it was alright to venture into the dark, and I showed you that you had light in you that you just needed someone to light the spark
We became one and fell in love and committed an atrocity, but we knew what we felt for each other could never truly be
I will never forget you I can’t no matter how hard I try, whenever I feel the darkness surrounding me, I just remember your haunting eyes
I smile and let a little bit of light shine out of me, and hope that it finds you and surrounds you with it so that you know that you’ll always be a part of me
But sadly, there was just no way that we could ever be, because I was an angel sent to save you from yourself and you were the demon in me.
This poem is from my book titled Broken Music, Silent Heart on Amazon and Kindle. Pen name is Amanda Carroll Kinzer
Perdition Be Damned!
Body electric zapped
lower gastrointestinal tract
wracked with wretchedness
pitted, rocked, and tortured
severe muscle spasms cramp
deathly hallowed deliverance
beseech divine creator to exorcise relief
any panacea trumpeted vetoed
pestilential nausea diarrhea
wreaks relentless havoc
horrid ordeal twists insides
lack strength to live
breathing a laborious effort
bedrest temporarily alleviates
generally healthy ironclad junket
weatherbeaten rickety ship of state
restorative sought trouncing unwell
corporeal self against torture
assailing, castrating,
and drubbing existence
avocations ordinarily promulgating
resplendent joie de vivre
squelched, scotched, and sabotaged,
courtesy minuscule mailer daemons
emotions unlikely culprit,
though times gone by anxiety
tindered, pitched, and kindled
abominable irritable bowel syndrome
prescription medication tempered
badgering, crippling, and debilitating
panic attacks plagued this primate
manifesting feeble endeavor
to experience poignant satiation,
asper simple pleasures nonexotic
endeavors merely passively living
as one organic carbon based
human being finding fulfillment
meditating, reading, and writing,
now fleeced, deprived, and blitzed
suspicious disagreeable provender
perhaps lactose intolerance
after enjoying pizza birthday
fours days prior
celebrating chronological centenary,
sans one frail resident here,
Highland Manor Apartments
suddenly, I feel chill o' rigor mortis!
Argh... dog dam mutt
(boot exhausted tending Milan Collie)
If only father time could... but
yea right Matthew Scott cut
your losses, accompanied
with sinking feeling in gut
ready to vent off steam
start fire next time and burn
(billy me I merrily Joel King),
down house i.e. mancave hut...,
in tot, while yours truly emulates
one among many talking heads
with tongue doth jut
out mouth making nasty facial feature
at reflection nut
tin much else
except, perhaps try to put
gear into overdrive any
remembered magmatic
lava lee fragments
to pull this mad man
out of figurative rut
nothing gainsaid verbally taunting self
with expletive epithet
more colorful than tut...tut... tut.
Chalk permanent heart wrenching
pinteresting kindling horrifying
devastating loss regarding
opus magnus extremely cross
at yours truly, nope no ace
in the hole, hence best bet to
down bottle of tranquilizers
with swig flask of booze to brace
transcending after life netherland,
where angels plucking harps
magically can exorcise
Manhattan goose stepping
quite pheasant hunched mountebank
Norte worthy dame
giving bankable chase
courtesy cloistered chaste
siren of Titan (on the
order of Mrs. Doubtfire)
hoop fully abducts me than
willingly, meticulously,
and compliantly doth erase
every vestige of writings.
Thoroughly cooked duck, dogged
dully dilly dallying gent
realized errors of
his ways, where bent
crooked right hand pinky the chief
hankering provocateur leant
admission (for one adult) cogent
tam o shanter donning Brit with scent
tum mental affectation unable to console
yours truly, who feeble
effort non poetic event
merely hoped to muster
even lame to assuage
smoldering ire, wherever
sense and sensibility went.
Where once there was the image of your face
There's now a gaping hole, an open space
When once I heard the beauty in your voice
There is a deafness there, and it's by choice
Where once there were your words in beauty wreathed
There is a darkened shroud they have bequeathed
When once there was the brilliance of your smile
There is but bitter taste of vilest bile
Where once there was the comfort of your arms
There is but thorns in place of all the charms
When once there was the pleasure of your kiss
There is but sound of demons' awful hiss
You were alive, but dead you are to me
I'll exorcise your ghost, and be set free!!
Eileen Manassian