held hostage

at the foot of the bed

this morning

your demons patiently


tapping their talons on the bedpost

they breathed heavy sighs

and filled with impatience

until they could stand it

no longer

they pole-vaulted onto

my back

pried open sleep-filled eyes

blasted horns and trumpts

banged on tambourines

and rang bells

their screams

and noisemakers

deafening to my ear

invading the last remnants

of a troubled sleep…

they hold me hostage now

old poet

seems they packed up

and left your last cave

when your cancer


kicking them out

of your belly and bowel

and fading them

from your blinded eyes

and fingertips….

to take your place

they needed a new

 weakened subject

to prey on

seems they followed me here

filled suitcases

with their evil and darkness

and set up house

in the notebook

of letters, exchanged between two

troubled souls…

they’ve nested there now

invaded my spirit

dragged me to the depths

all the while moaning


for their one and only

dead host…

this notebook has brought

nothing but trouble

to my door and table

it has ruled me

caught me up in yet another’s


it has rolled me up in sticky binds

and sucks the bloodlife

out of me

day after day

night after night

as i wrestle

and fumble here

tapping into your darkness

and the histories

behind your words…

its time to bury you

once and for all

old poet

time to set up

a funeral pyre

for your demons too…

our shared past

and our memories

are as dead as you


and i have

a little more



to try


figure out

About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i write...to release the gamut of emotion...to tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
This entry was posted in poetry/poesy. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to held hostage

  1. MandT says:

    Old poet’s
    On brittle
    yellowed paper
    For a new fire
    The warmth returns.

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