Exorcism

[poliphilo]

I dreamed my space had been invaded by a demon. He was sitting there grinning at me and all the time growing in power. As a last defence I told him he wasn't real- and to my surprise it worked. He immediately went all floppy and see-through and useless.

Comments

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

-Don't we all when somebody calls our bluff?

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Yes.

But we tend to assume that the other guy has the muscle to back up his huffing and puffing.

And sometimes- just sometimes- he has!

[aftertorless.livejournal.com]

When I was very young, I used to have this recurring nightmare about someone I apparently dubbed "The Pelican Man." He would make me wake up screaming whenever he paid a visit, and for some reason I would never tell my parents exactly what it was about him that frightened me so.

One evening, after being awakened by said visitor, I sat crying and shivering on my father's lap, and he told me, "The next time you see him, just tell him to go away. He has no power over you. Simply tell him to be gone."

At the time, of course, I didn't think I would be able to do this, but I did. He went away, and hasn't visited me since. It struck me as odd that it was so easy to make him go away, simply by telling him that he had no power over me.

[aftertorless.livejournal.com]

Trust me, he was far more maleficent than "Gleek." You wouldn't have appreciated his presence in your dreams.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Now, there's an instructive and mentally healthy dream!

I envy you.

Sunday night, I dreamed I was being pursued by something-or-other, and was in a long labyrinth, somehow managing to figure out how to escape one more time, until finally the jig was up, and I knew it. I walked out into the room and waited to be nabbed. A group of other people were standing there, all in the same jam, I guess, and a woman said, "Walk toward them with your head high."

I'm at the Anne Boleyn stage of life, I guess.

You're deflating demons. Nobody's gonna get you!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

My turn to sing you a song- (rather less poetic than the one you sang me.)

WITH HER HEAD TUCKED UNDERNEATH
HER ARM.
by
R P Weston and Bert Lee


In the Tower of London large as life,
The Ghost of Anne Boleyn walks they declare.
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife,
Until he made the headsman bob her hair!
Ah, yes, he did her wrong, long years ago
And, she comes up at night to tell him soooo!


With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

She comes to haunt King Henry,
She means to give him 'what for',
Gadzook! She's going to tell him off
For having split her gore,
And, just in case the headsman
Wants to give her an encore,
She has her head tucked underneath her arm.


With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her had tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

Along the draughty corridors,
For miles and miles she goes.
She often catches cold, poor thing,
It's cold there when it blows.
And it's awfully awkward for the Queen,
To have to blow her nose,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.


With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour!

Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread,
For all his pals and gals and ghostly crew.
The headsman carves the joint and cuts the bread
Then in comes Anne Boleyn to 'queer the do!'
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop!
And Henry cries, "Don't drop it in the soup!"


With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

The sentries think that it's a football,
That she carries in.
And when they've had a few they shout,
'Is Ars'nal going to win?'
They think it's Alec James,
Instead of poor old Ann Boleyn,
With her head tucked underneath her arm.

With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

One night she caught King Henry
He was in the canteen bar
Said he, "Are you Jane Seymore,
Anne Boleyn or Catherine Parr?"
"How the sweet san fairy ann,
Do I know who you are?"
With your head tucked underneath your arm!

With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the Bloody Tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Just right for Halloween week!