Conjured

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Conjured

~

the restless
unsleeping souls
are conjured forth
to celebrate this night’s
rising unhallow voudon moon

spirits entrapped in darkness
possessed
writhe here entranced
in bestial
rhythmic profane dance

a demonic ritual
of ungodly fire
cast this spell
of last atonement

these lost forgotten
called this deep night
by dark houngan magic
proffered by this voodoo priest

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summoned
from the place of limbo
by this fevered shaman’s will
to bear immortal witness

seeking sanctified forgiveness
eternal pardon
to be ever spared
the consuming void
of graceless oblivion

while unholy apparitions
descend wraith-like
in dreadful cluster
to horror’s hellish plane

these begging mercy
rise supplicant
from the papaloa’s
sacred 5-point flame
in merciful petition
to the vengeful one

lest this eater of the undead
set upon the dawning morrow
to steal the blessed light of hope

and hurl the innocents
into the pit of anguish

foresaken
lost forevermore

conjured

~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2018


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*Original 2009 version*

Conjured

~

the restless
unsleeping souls
are conjured forth
this moonless nocturne

entranced
in ancient dance

a rhythmic ritual
of sanctified fire
deep night
and dark magic

summoned
from the place beyond time
by the fevered will
of the shaman

to bear immortal witness
as the holy apparitions
ascend wraith-like
in prayerful unity

rising supplicant
from the 8-point sacred flame
in sacrifice
to the vengeful one

lest this eater of the undead
set upon the dawning morrow
to steal the blessed light of daybreak

and hurl the waiting
into the pit of anguish

lost forevermore

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2009

7 thoughts on “Conjured”

  1. I like how this explores the idea of the performer as part of a ritual. The poem expands on this ritual very effectively, reveling in it on one level, and horrified by it on another.

  2. I like how the poem describes something that’s NOT evident in the photo, something we the viewer CAN’T see — the conjured spirits. And I love that the night is without a moon. A moonless nocturne. Lovely play in the poem between what’s visible and invisible, there and not there.

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