Long Exorcism Poems
Long Exorcism Poems. Below are the most popular long Exorcism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exorcism poems by poem length and keyword.
She was possessed or so they imagined what else could it be
only two years old and already she could speak fluent Spanish
though she never heard the language in the household before;
She cried for her mother and when her mother arrived she said
" mommy what is your name " and then the lights in the room
shut down by themselves...
Then came the night when the window frosted in her bedroom
though it was summer and the temperatures were way above
the window frosted with ice and the roomed chilled to below Zero;
When the Priest attempted an exorcism prayer and genuflected,
she gave out a guttural laugh and yelled, " Padre Arrependito "
repent Father, repent, he ran out of the house like a bat out of hell....
A Ghost Story Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:
Angela Tune Jan 10, 2022
My devilish mausoleum painted
with bloodcurdling remains
Cobweb gives spine-tingling
in mummified body
Tonyx
The knowledge of necromancy
- unknown X ?
Macabre beasts, tyrannize
a world of exorcism
Anti depressants !
The galaxy grows cold and poor
GoRe, gorE ... GoOOOre
- destroy the planet
Haunted xanadu didilduX
Nuns With Guns
Sister Agnes blessed us with a slap
Every time we talked or answered back
It was like the hand of God reached down from heaven
To numb the face, to see the error of our ways
Shock waves and stars felt with every blow
Nuns leave no marks or evidence or clues that show
Being black robed ninjas through and through
They become invisible when they shoot
As time passes, nuns grow older, wear dark glasses
Grow beards, thick ugly hairy under arms and smoke cigars
Carry weapons to class and church
Become bolder in their goals to convert the wicked
Nuns with guns become more vicious
It is the style of the day
They hide rifles under long black gowns
Next to the rosaries, used to strangle the young and dumb
You can never have enough ammunition according to the nuns
Say two Our Fathers, three Hail Mary’s and pray
Make a good act of contrition
We'll send you on your way
God blesses everyone
Nuns gun down the evil in need of exorcism
In keeping with the Catechism
Blessing Father, Son and Holy Spirit
Before unloading in the victim
More holes can only make you holy in the end
Nuns with guns have more fun
That's what they say while spraying everyone
I could write to you about what it feels like to be
unhinged, untethered, to float on a breeze of malintent
But what would it matter to you?
Thinking random thoughts anchorless,
adrift in a typhoon of emotional baggage
for which you have lost the claim tag.
In this flash bulb, pop snap, presto-chango world
where the only sane thing to do, or be, is to be insane,
I could talk to you of that……
Of the parenting child, wiping up the vomit
of a blighted gene pool.
Of the wound-up, pent-up,
morally straightjacketed, youth who has no example
of the rightness of creation or the necessity of destruction.
All this masticating, ruminating, procrastinating
does not stop the clock,
the pendulum continues its swing….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes within an all too ego driven self,
I assume you don’t know this!
The masses of opiated, upward looking
stiffs, passing through, and over their
pap driven lives don’t know this?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, but after realizing I realize nothing
I conclude… you have been there haven’t you?
Perhaps, your realizations did not arrive
from the same lessons as mine.
But after searching through an exorcism of soul
I would think You know,
in your heart of hearts you know.
In one form, or another, at one time, or another,
you have all been there blessed with insanity,
in a world which leaves few other outlets
between life and death.
For the sensitive’s in life are surrounded
with knifes, and guns, and drugs..lures
to cut the tethers, burst our bubbles
and rock our boats.
the monster inside
wants me to hide
it wants to come out
that’s without a doubt
it rears its ugly head
filling me with dread
it tempts me to spiral
the monster’s gone viral
it’s going to get me in trouble
I can no longer stay in my bubble
I need to tame the beast
like an exorcism and a priest
it sees me when I’m mad
it likes it when I’m bad
it comes out when there’s jealousy
it hangs around like leprosy
I see it trying to get nearer
every time I look in the mirror
it tells me I’m not good enough
but I’m about to call its bluff
I see its horns, I see its claws
it tries to point out all my flaws
I see it’s stupid toothy grin
and it’s scaly brick colored skin
i grab it by its feet and take it for a spin
it says “I’m never gonna let you win”
I throw it across the room and say
‘time to go outside and play’
I kick its butt on out the door
“don’t worry I’ll be back for more”
I say “idc I’m not keeping score
you can’t control me anymore”
“History repeats itself” maxim left on the shelf
No need for stealth just heft of greed for wealth
No mystery the majority indeed bereft in ill health
Impropriety & notoriety prism creates a schism
Entirety debunked by a flunked junk catechism
Society sobriety shrunk by punch drunk fascism
Train wreck of tech titans us brassic just terrorism
Insane vortex vexes our cortexes classic botulism
Tyrannosaurus rex in vain Jurassic park tourism
Anxiety rapacious due to mendacious barbarism
Fiefdoms harbinger of doom & noxious nepotism
Not a hunch us all sunk crunch time for exorcism
Evangelist narcissist mist does persist the gist
Not a balm or spreading alms just a call to arms
In true fashion religion does ration compassion
America in flux the crux once more is Klu Klux
Ice trucks of vice blunder shoot lame ducks
Plunder and cast asunder all about the bucks
Prioritise unity of community blunts vicious stunts
Demonise pernicious lies and their power blunts
Criticise avaricious demise that liberalism shunts
Scores of grunts from EU being treated like runts
Learn fast the answers are in the past Europe hunts
History bores are right don’t fight wars on 2 fronts
I invented something quite peculiar
Last night
In my lucid dream
My neo commanded my allo-cortex
To prepare allusions to be downloaded
Upon returning to my physical presence
Caught in middle-sleep, guardians of satan
Were mocking the death and resurrection
Of Jesus Christ, shouting and laughingly
Pronouncing God The Father and Jesus
The Son as "the two lunatics"
Every direction I faced, the 'alien race'
Of towering blondes blocked my escape
Knowing I had lucidly dreamt a downloadable
File to be recovered once awake, I summarily
Accomplished this by attaching a small device
To the frontal-lobe side of my skull and
Activated the sensory-absorbing module
Instantly slipping back into my lucid dream
Allowing edits to be re-programmed
I was able to disrupt the satanic bonds
Holding me captive and cast out the
Demons that possessed me
Declaring the Lord Jesus Christ as my
Savior and Ruler of the Light that shall
Set man free!
Once again returning to my physical realm
I was even more determined to
Spread
His
Love
Upon
The World!
04.16.22
Forgiveness releases conflicts and has a clean soul effect.
Only positive thought may repair broken relationships
Resolutely communicate after cooling down
Grievances must be put aside in order to pardon.
If you've apologized, you are indeed good.
Venerate to be able to forgive various rage of life.
Elevate peace, embrace, and aid in the exorcism of evil spirits.
Be excuse-making let penance be, and you pretend.
Unflappability; not in a short period of time afterward
Tolerance demands you to have a twisted, restless mind.
Normal person suffers in a sick culture and is not tolerated.
Explore a lawful premise to assist with the goal of relationships.
Victim is punished by his ego, enraged, and seeks retribution.
Each battle is never finished until the moment it ends.
Resilience is the same as confidence, and confidence is faith.
Forgiveness is more valuable than the wrongdoer's harm.
Others are cruel to you. Promise not to let hatred consume you.
Reconciliation based on honesty is better than just respect.
Gain excuse and sensitivity as you stream quickly and nimbly.
Even the solid might be forgiven; strong men tend to disregard.
Thusly, one may enlighten others while slowly healing himself.
written: May 28, 2021
A BRIAN STRAND JULY 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
your labored breathing
called out to me
and in my soul I knew
what needed to be done
I reached for the drum
to summon the spirits
called out to ancestors
and anyone who’d listen
gently tapping to the rhythm
of our beating hearts
united as one in a prayer
released to the universe
filled the silence of
your labored breathing
drumming for hours
till the pleading was done
everything had been said
the prayer consummated
left in the hands
of the universe to respond
then it did in no uncertain terms
in an exorcism of sorts
draining the passages
to free your breathing
and so it was
in tune with the universe
the healing power
of the drum
Read on air by invitation ~ February 11, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
Read on KPBX called Poetry Moment by Kara Bowman 2022 [karabowman.com and griefpoetry.com]
AP: 2nd place 2026, 2nd place 2022, 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 13, 2025 for contest YOUR BEST AUDIO POEM sponsored by TOM WOODY - RANKED 2ND
and on May 28, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAY 29) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Of course, art is always somewhat
subjective, breaking established rules: the artist
intuitively adding imaginary inches to a canvas;
a work in progress, riding waves, finding depth
both on and off the easel, creatively flowing – a
vision on the loose –
(paused, but never finished...a true birth
having voice and life beyond the parent's release,
like a child going out into the world alone...
a must, for the painter to keep fluid a moistening eye:
that mysterious exorcism by his instruments...a true descriptor
ultimately not bound by the Catechism of Lines nor a Page's
World-edges;
no mural out of the soul, seeking spectacular release
is ever entirely confined to interior walls nor the sides of buildings~
that is why certain poems are read over and over, as if catching up
with an old friend~filled-in on what is new, an evolutionary rapport...
or one revisits The Museum of Modern Art – finding aged modern
in the old modern, the past meeting perhaps a cloudy moment and
today a day of awakening transparency – each vintage, an individualized
spirit-manifest,
a motivating shade of scentful-color~of brightness and overcast,
with searchable, unseen dimensions, the spaces science
has yet to fill,
the private domains of both
experimenting student and seasoned mystic...
the limits of what we
know, transformed by the revelation of what we dream,
the artist, and not the scientist, life's true conjurer of miracles,
only bound, when at all, by his own restricted conceptions of
time transforming space.