Thread: Exorcising my Demon

Satan's son
slumbers upon my sofa,
his tail comfortably cushioned,
indented in tweed.
Dreams of destruction
coax his horn to attention
and between snorted snores,
the names of souls
he bleeds to feed
hiss while they slither
past lying lips that easily lure
unsuspecting puppets.

My two syllables
have long been bane
as nothing nutritious remains,
and are forever absent
from the noxious cloud
that collects about
his snaggletoothed maw.

The mark of his birthright
lies hidden in silvered ebony thatch,
not upon his devious head,
but rather surrounding his second,
with which he thinks.
It switches shades
dependent on the gloss flavor
his current meal favors.

I cover the couch in crucifixes
being mindful not to rouse him.
An open bible is placed
over the remotes,
and the soda in his Mets plagued glass
is substituted
with holy water.
I expect the exorcist at three.

Should our efforts fail,
my back-up plan trembles
in the kitchen:
a ten page
declaration of freedom
in the shaky hand
of a hired server.

Either way,
come hell or high water,
his feeding frenzy
will finally be over.

Holy Moses, Lisa!

The imagery is very good here, and I have no trouble at all understanding what this is about, sadly. To be honest, I'm having a little trouble just looking at it as a poem, because I'm so fond of you, I don't want it to be truth based.
Your sharp wit is present as in all your work, along with a biting sense of humor. I'm going to have to come back to this after I've cleared my head a little.

Dear Lisa,

Just as Cindy you have me concerned. May I suggest something for the blue screen while waiting for the exorcist? A movie called "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring" - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0374546/
I don't have a television myself, gave it up years ago, but films like this one are a reason why I sometimes miss it. I think you will appreciate it and maybe it could give you some healthy perspective...

As for criticism, it seems this piece is something that just needed to get out. I thought it was a little over the top and that the first stanza by far is the best. Fourth stanza is also very good, and actually I would say those two together would make for the strongest piece. I did enjoy the other stanzas as well, they hold some nice tragi-sarcastic imagery, yet I would prefer the piece like this:

Exorcising my Demon

Satan's son
slumbers upon my sofa,
his tail comfortably cushioned
in indented tweed.
Dreams of destruction
coax his horn to attention
and between snorted snores,
the names of souls
he bleeds to feed,
hiss while they slither
past lying lips that easily lure
unsuspecting puppets.

I cover the couch in crucifixes
being mindful not to rouse him.
I place an open bible
over the remotes
and substitute the soda
in his Mets plagued glass
with holy water.
I expect the exorcist at three.

Lisa! I'm loving you even more. You're doing "dark" very well (and you know how I feel about that!) and with that clever signature of yours.

I absolutely love the imagery and the alliterations!

Satan's son
slumbers upon my sofa,

I cover the couch in crucifixes

Laurie

I don't do poetry. Can't stand the stuff.

That said, this is damn good writing! I can't offer any critical advice (since I don't know the first thing about poetic structure), but this is one of the few poems I've read that actually means something and conveys that meaning. You're not trying to prove how smart you are, or how "different" your perspective is. Yet it's obvious that you are intelligent and you can see things from a unique angle. What's best, though, is that you have the gift of illuminating that viewpoint for everyone else.

I'm obviously new here, so I don't have any personal background about you. But if Gumby and Martin are correct in their assumption, just keep this in mind: I'm going to be on the lookout for more material from you. You've got a gift, and you're comfortable enough with that talent to use it without a hint of self-aggrandizement.

Come on. Show us what you can do.

Originally Posted by ChestersDaughter

Satan's son
slumbers upon my sofa,
his tail comfortably cushioned
in indented tweed.
Dreams of destruction
coax his horn to attention
and between snorted snores,
the names of souls
he bleeds to feed,
hiss while they slither
past lying lips that easily lure
unsuspecting puppets.

My two syllables
have long been bane
as nothing nutritious remains,
and are forever absent
from the noxious cloud
that collects about
his snaggletoothed maw.

The mark of his birthright
lies hidden in silvered ebony thatch,
not upon his devious head,
but rather surrounding his second,
with which he thinks.
It switches shades
dependent on the gloss flavor
his current meal favors.

I cover the couch in crucifixes
being mindful not to rouse him.
I place an open bible
over the remotes
and substitute the soda
in his Mets plagued glass
with holy water.
I expect the exorcist at three.

Should our efforts fail,
my back-up plan trembles
in the kitchen:
a ten page
declaration of freedom
in the shaky hand
of a hired server.

Either way,
come hell or high water,
his feeding frenzy
will finally be over.

*shaking my head* lol

Can I be you when I grow up ? This is some amazing stuff ! You have thoroughly intimidated me Darlin. LOL When I get my gumption back I will try to be more thorough about what I have just read. Damn !

My apologies to Cindy and Martin, I've worried you unnecessarily yet again. I assure you no one's in the kitchen with Dinah. Good old Tommy boy passed his germs along and barely breathing I was in no mood for crap, but it was slung in my direction anyway. It was this or take a sledgehammer to his ridiculously expensive home theater crap. Since I occasionally avail myself of same, I opted for the lesser evil. I've embellished without shame, although there is some truth to it. Hubby fancies himself a ladies' man and is an unrepentant flirt. Needless to say, it has forever been a boner (misspell intentional) of contention. One remark too many sent me into quite a snit and this is the result. Sorry for upsetting you guys.


Dear Cindy, Yet again, your gracious and considerate kindness overwhelms me. You, my dear, are an exceptional soul. I broke my rule of running my piece through the wringer before posting and this went up as soon as it came out of the wash, drip dry. I'm glad the sarcasm came through, but when you have a moment, please pick the bitch apart so I know where to refine. I'm a little fond of this, sometimes he is evil personified and my frustration is clear here. Not my best, but most certainly cathartic.


Dear Martin, Thank you for the link, I'll be sure to click tomorrow morning when the enemy retreats to work and school and I can crawl out of the weekend bunker with the expectation of peace and quiet. Yep, you're correct, hadda tap some steam, that sledgehammer was looking powerful appealing. As I said, this is raw and needs refining. I agree S1 is by far the best, seems I got lost in my tantrum and lost control of the ball. The piece could stand as you have it, but without the middle, the true reason for writing it is bypassed. The rat fink in me just won't be satisfied. I'll see if I can fiddle and flesh out something more succinct for an additional stanza to sandwich between. Thanks for your input, love.


Dear Laurie, Thank you, hon, but none of it was intentional. In fact, I wish puppies and flowers leaked out of my nib when writing about him, but if that were the case, I guess I wouldn't be me so perhaps it's better this way. So my secret's out, being perpetually pissed off fuels my dark. It it wasn't him, it would have been something else, it's anger that keeps me going. Glad you enjoyed, hon.


Dear DanCol, Goodness, sir, you've stunned me almost silent and as you can tell, I'm a big blabbermouth, so that means a lot. I don't really know what it say save for I am very honored at your words. I try very hard to keep my pieces accessible to everyone and the fact you found this to your liking even though, through your own admission, poetry isn't your thing, means in that I have achieved a little success. I don't want people to have to be "well versed" in the subject to get my stuff. You have elated me, indeed. The generosity of your words regarding my ability put me into a full five minute blush, and made me just a bit self-conscious, so all I can do is humbly extend my sincere thanks and pray that is sufficient. I am flattered you'll be on the lookout for my work and hope I will not disappoint. Welcome Dan, it is both an honor and a pleasure to have you aboard.


Love you guys, you're the best.

Warmest,
Lisa

You've a bit of grit under your shell, and to soothe and smooth it over you've covered it with this pearl. Oddly disturbing and beautiful at the same time. Eroticism and religion and fed-up-with-it-all make a good mix, when the one who mixes is skilled enough.

Sadly funny and true this:
'...not upon his devious head,
but rather surrounding his second,
with which he thinks...'
which reminds me of the three-year-old asking his mother, 'mommy, are these my brains' and her reply, 'not yet, dear, not yet.'

Lisa,

I remember a girl who came to this site and wrote poems from her heart, while struggling with imagery and this need to make the lines rhyme. You still write from your heart, masterful imagery and powerful poetry. The only struggle I see now is the one you are showings us within the poem's subject. Marvelous.

Hey CD, I enjoyed this. Do agree that it needs refining. My head hurts from working on the novel (and from watching LOST on my HD TV ), so can't really offer any concrete suggestions at this point.

One thing though: "Mets plagued glass" I don't get. Do you mean 'Mets plaqued glass'? Or am I missing something. (again)?

cheers
J.R.

My apologies for the delay in my reply. I'm battling bronchitis that seems to be bent on burying me.

Dear Maggie, Hon, if you're not grown up, I'm going into hiding because you're gonna make me look like a newb with every possible disadvantage going. Amazing elated me, intimidated made me think my words have somehow learned to bite. I apologize again for missing you the first time around because we were posting simultaneously. I'd love to have your thoughts on this when you have a moment.


Dear Garza, I'm of the opinion that without a little grit to chafe us, most of us wouldn't write. I cannot thank you enough for the generosity of your words nor for your joke. Had me laughing out loud because it's so damn true. I'm elated this worked for you.


Dear Van, Would a bribe help you to indulge in some selective amnesia? Just kidding. That clueless girl took her licks, with good reason, and almost threw in the towel. If it weren't for my daughter who registered me and posted my junk without my knowledge (she did so when my Mom was dying because she knew I going to need something to hang onto, talk about love in its purest form) and the support I received from Baron and you, and a single important comment from Edge, I wouldn't be here. I could thank you all every minute of every day I have left and still it would be insufficient. If it weren't for the poetry, I would be in a rubber room.

To be honest, I considered deleting my messes but then thought better of it. They serve as proof to any beginners who chance upon them, that with the right mindset and a bit of work, anyone can improve. Only a fool is ashamed of his humble beginning for it is by that he can gauge his progress. Marvelous is a gift, my friend, thank you. As to the subject of this piece, I shan't waste any additional binary code upon him.


Dear J.R., Wonderful to hear from you, even if you are an admitted couch potato. Are you still working on Waking Up Pink or have you moved onto something else? I hope things are progressing well, it makes those headaches much more tolerable. I'm currently at war so I'm not ready to touch this right now, I'd just botch it more. As for Mets plagued glass, welcome to baseball wars. I am a Yankee fan, he is a Met fan. Every spring I hear "Look at the stats, ha ha" to which I reply "Talk to me in October." It's funny how silence prevails every fall. I knew plagued was a bit iffy in this context, but opted for it anyway. I feel pity for the poor glass infected by the disease of bearing that logo. So it was a personal dig I just couldn't pass up, I hope I've made some kind of sense. I'm thrilled you enjoyed and if ever you want to help me paint and plaster this mess, please feel free.

Thank you all again.

All my best, always,
Lisa

Ok Darlin Here we go

[QUOTE=ChestersDaughter;1355622]Satan's son
slumbers upon my sofa,
his tail comfortably cushioned
in indented tweed.
Dreams of destruction
coax his horn to attention
and between snorted snores,
the names of souls
he bleeds to feed,
hiss while they slither
past lying lips that easily lure
unsuspecting puppets.

( "In" right in front of "indented" is what I call a trip over. If you are not perfectly focused your tongue will trip over it. Might I suggest "on" or "between" ? I would get rid of the comma right after "feed" It stops the flow of words, and almost creates another partial sentence. )

My two syllables
have long been bane
as nothing nutritious remains,
and are forever absent
from the noxious cloud
that collects about
his snaggletoothed maw.

( This stanza is perfect. Don't touch it ! LOL )

The mark of his birthright
lies hidden in silvered ebony thatch,
not upon his devious head,
but rather surrounding his second,
with which he thinks.
It switches shades
dependent on the gloss flavor
his current meal favors.

( I don't know if it is simply the way I read, or if it is an actually issue. But I am inclined to think you should stop the sentence at "head" , and start a new sentence with " But". Other than that ? Perfecto again )

I cover the couch in crucifixes
being mindful not to rouse him.
I place an open bible
over the remotes
and substitute the soda
in his Mets plagued glass
with holy water.
I expect the exorcist at three.

( I am not sure I am fond of the three "I"'s Here's a thought -

I cover the couch in crucifixes
being mindful not to rouse him.
An open bible is placed
over the remotes,
and the soda in his Mets plagued glass
is substituted with holy water.
The exorcist is scheduled for three. )



Should our efforts fail,
my back-up plan trembles
in the kitchen:
a ten page
declaration of freedom
in the shaky hand
of a hired server.


Either way,
come hell or high water,
his feeding frenzy
will finally be over.


( Again... Perfect )/QUOTE]

Damn fine one Darlin Damn fine !

Christ on a bike! Little Lisa finally gets off the eggshells. There; I knew you would. It's the power and honesty that makes this, and which was lacking in so many of your earlier pieces. There's strong images, a definite and clear storyline, and whilst at first glance I thought you had slipped into your verbosity once more, the poem was over long before I wanted it to be.

Now you're on that pedestal, I will just give it a little bit of a wobble. There is redundancy in here, an occasional additional adjective, a word or two too many. There's nothing that needs dramatic attention, but a little honing and polishing will make the knife so much sharper.

Hope the bronchyness clears up!

Heh. Pretty amusing. The fact that it's over the top, I think belies that it's more about being extremely annoyed from time-to-time rather than anything more serious, although, sometimes the cumulative effects of minor annoyances can be almost overwhelming. I'm pretty much the one who does the annoying things at my house -- but I can still relate.

I think it could use an an edit. And there are almost too many ideas in here. But overall, I really like it.

PS -- I'm a Braves fan, so you know how I feel about the Yankees -- and the Mets, for that matter.

Dear Maggie, May I always borrow your eyes when I am in need? Everything you touched upon, I already had issues with. As I said, I didn't play with this one at all. Once I start fiddling, I change so much, I usually end up with a different piece. I didn't want to lose the fire behind this one. I am not crazy about in indented. My brain can't grasp on coupled with indent, and I really like between but it may be too much of a mouthful followed so closely by tweed. I thought perhaps by, but prefer between. Not sure yet, I wish you guys would decide for me. I'm getting rid of the comma as you suggested.

In S3, I agree that sentence goes on too long. I thought about beginning with but, but some people hate that. I'm not sure whether it would be proper in this instance, but I'll do a little research to see if it's acceptable. I'm taking your suggestion for S4. I knew there were too many I(s), but again was afraid to start fiddling. Stuff like that kind of repetition usually gets wrung out before coming here. It always amazes me how I don't notice such errors in the heat of the initial scribble. Thanks for the easy fix.

I am really glad you enjoyed and truly appreciate the time you took with this. You spoiled me with those keen eyes and saved me from certain aggravation.



Dear Pete, I'm not ashamed to say I was afraid to look and when I finally mustered the courage, I almost had a heart attack. If you remember correctly, I never got angry, because in my heart I knew you were right. Ego, being what it is, made me defensive, but also made me vow to correct what was wrong. I am honored by your words and think I will print up your reply and put it on my fridge. It was, after all, almost two and a half years in coming. I am elated this worked for you and your suggestion of honing will be honored. Maggie's helped a great deal, but once a bit of time has passed, I'll get out the scalpel. One last thing, my dear, I am certainly undeserving of a pedestal, I think it is more befitting to say I've finally climbed out of the gutter and onto the curb. But perhaps in the future... Thanks so much for your best wishes for banishing the bronchyness.


Dear Joe, More like extremely annoyed all of the time. That's not to say I'm innocent, but I'm certainly not chronically guilty like a certain person sporting those sixes. Your mention of too many ideas will definitely be taken into consideration, my mind tends to race when I'm really pissed and that mishmash is reflected here. I'm glad you still liked it regardless of its faults.

Better the Braves than the Red Sox any day. I'll tell you a secret. While I used to be a fanatic, unless I'm playing (which I can't anymore), baseball bores me now. Hockey is what I love. Only game where you can kick the crap out of someone and not get ejected. What's five in the box as long as it doesn't result in a power play goal. I only maintain the rivalry because the Mets never fail to screw up and afford me a bountiful selection of barbs, which, as you can see by this piece, I can never pass up.


Thanks to all for sharing your precious time with me.

All my best,
Lisa