Exorcising Demons (Part 2: poem)

UPDATE: I wrote this poem following a harrowing period in my life during the latter days of the Stephen Harper regime, when he appointed Steven Blaney as his Minister of National Security. Photos of the man expostulating in Parliament were shocking: Blaney looked like a rabid demon foaming at the mouth. I was used to hearing such inflammatory rhetoric from American politicians but coming from a Canadian minister of government it was deeply jarring. I was shocked that our country might be following the path to perdition laid down by our disintegrating neighbours to the south.

Then one night I had an epiphany: if these men are so terrified of the world they feel the need to cage us in an ever tightening ring of security and surveillance, then they are truly to be pitied. Why should I fear them? They’re actually quite pathetic creatures. Thankfully with the election of Justin Trudeau’s Liberals, Canada has veered away from the abyss the United States and other countries seem to be plunging headlong into. For now. However, the old saying is true: “The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.”

What I learned from my Long Night of Fear under Harper is that it’s as essential to manage one’s own fear as it is to monitor those who cultivate it to their own ends. Once we can do that we can’t be manipulated nearly so easily.

I saw you on TV—tongue

flicking fear

into our bones.

Haggard as a demon

on a three-day bender.

Bald as a bullet

biting the air

for its target,

halo of knives glinting

in oily light.

Your skin long abandoned

by touch, the leap

in the breast

all but forgotten.

 

Collars wrap serpentine

around your neck,

and everywhere you go,

you look over your shoulder,

listen for grit

beneath a boot.

And no matter

how many minds

you tie in knots,

they need only relax

to escape. After all,

the dead can sing

through anything.

While the armour

closes over your body,

they dance naked

in the streets.

 

Why should I fear you?

Your eyes are dark moths

beating weakly

against a screen—

desperate

for incandescence.

 

©2015 Sean Arthur Joyce

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About seanarthurjoyce

I am a poet, journalist and author with a strong commitment to the environment and social justice. If anything, I have too many interests and too little time in a day to pursue them all. Film, poetry, literature, music, mythology, and history probably top the list. My musical interests lie firmly in rock and blues with a smattering of folk and world music. I consider myself lucky to have lived during the great flowering of modern rock music during its Golden Age in the late 1960s/early '70s. In poetry my major inspirations are Dylan Thomas, Rilke, Neruda and the early 20th century British/American poets: Auden, Eliot, Cummings. My preferred cinema includes the great French auteurs, Kirosawa, Orson Welles, and Film Noir. My preferred social causes are too numerous to mention but include banning GMOs, eliminating poverty (ha-ha), and a sane approach to forest conservation and resource extraction. Wish me—wish us all—luck on that one!
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