To percolate or to just write

I am having some difficulty with my muse. I came across a poem that I wrote several years ago after a father here in Canada had committed an honor killing. And my brain has begun to piece together a poem or a story about women who have been abused by religious tenets.

So my muse is percolating. Trying to figure out how to write what I want to write. How to focus on my anger and fear. How to portray women who have been ruled by religion for 1000’s of years.

There has always been the condemnation of witchcraft, that is an easy one to fall back on. The bible is used to beat women into submission. I am sure the Koran is put to the same use. But what about the subliminal message that we receive. Today still, in 2017 that somehow it is our fault, how we dress, speak, smile, all is an excuse used.

I have a story or a poem within me. I am not sure why I feel the need to write about this at this moment. I have not read anything that would have been a trigger. I have not seen anything that has been a trigger. All I know is my muse is chewing her lip and tugging on her hair as the idea moves into being. It will be complete and utter fiction I can tell you that. I am just not sure when it will be written or published for your consumption.

The Poem that started this all when I reread it:

Honor Killing

I read that another girl died today

her father took her life

‘The shame, the shame’ he laments

‘she can no longer be a wife.’

Bound in an alley, filth in her face

abused, debased, left shivering

Afraid to move, afraid to cry out

she knows what she will face,

she knows that more is to come.

Allah’s tears cleanse her heart

Allah’s tears cleanse her soul

Allah’s embrace heals her hurts

Allah’s love shows her the truth.

The shame decried is his alone

the hatred burns his soul

No justification, no regrets

Saving one’s name, that is more important.

I read that another girl died today

her father so proud of the deed

Posturing, holding his head high

fierce in protest, in rejection of fear

no longer is he able to feel Allah’s grace.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

December 1/11

 

 

 

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Breaking Free

A great dense fog reaches out to embrace

pulling me forward, against my will

Leeching the life from my mind and soul

turning me into a starving waif.

I cry and I scream, silent hostility

pounding against the erected walls

Unable to break through into the light

tears coursing down my face.

Paint me up with a clown’s face, smile

ignore the beast that rumbles within

Pretend that the pain will ebb

and life shall always return.

Wrapped within the greyest of depression

unable to see the path to freedom

Stumbling to fall to my knees

my heart pierced and torn.

I cannot get away, I cannot recover

lost within this depressed state

Seeking a doorway to the light

feeling as though I shall be lost forever.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

July 9/17

Comin’ Home

***I am unsure of the date I wrote this on so am copywriting it for today. It was my first attempt at a song***

Tears drip down my cheeks

as I lean against the window

Gazin’ out the rain spattered pane

seein’ my past comin’ again.

Chorus:

I left you behind, I ran away

I left you behind, at home you did stay

I left you behind

A foolish mistake

I left you behind and still my heart aches.

 

I sought sunshine

I found pain

I sought laughter, never gained

I sought to escape the life I had

only to discover it weren’t so bad.

Chorus:

 

Locked within a prison of glass

One I made I could not crack

choices I regret, prices I had to pay

I wish that I could take it all back

I wish I could refuse this track.

Chorus:

 

Now I am comin’ home

tell me it’s not too late

I’m comin’ home

baby here’s the date

I’m comin’ home to a heart that’s true

I’m comin’ home to get my due.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

July 8/17

 

 

This will not be an annual thing……

So the muses of my mind have been a little silent. With so much going on within the last week and the need to organize everything I can before I am on holidays next week, they are either taking a siesta or have gone on a vacation of their own. I am missing them a lot and wish that they would return from wherever they have gone but in the meantime I will do my best using my own voice to fill y’all in.

Last week between mom being here for a visit and T finishing off school it was hectic. It was also a long weekend here in Canada. However, our work week runs Sunday through Saturday so my stat was during the week, not this passed Monday which everyone else had off. I was at work for 6 a.m. And when asked if I enjoyed my weekend off I smiled sweetly because truth be told, it was already my weekend off as I had T.

Thursday afternoon I returned mom to the city. Via a massive amount of construction. I sailed through my confidence level good despite the fact I was driving in the city, in two lanes surrounded by angry people and pylons. We made amazing time. Hit every green light until mom stated the obvious. And jinxed us. After that I made every yellow light.

While turning onto Taylor to head to Grant (yes I know those who do not reside in Manitoba will not really understand but that is what google maps are for :)) this jerk decided he was going to try to pull across two lanes of roadway, cutting me off. He figured he was old and deserved it, I figured he was rude and could wait. I won, he called me a nasty name as I stared at him and I smiled. Again pure win on my part. That than lead to a discussion between mom and myself as to why her generation feels so entitled. As though the rules no longer applied to them. Mom was horrified to discover that this is a thing as well as flabbergasted that some many of her generation have become rude and arrogant.

Dropped mom off at my uncle’s with the promise that we would see her Saturday morning up at the lake. Until I returned home and mom started texting. It seemed that my aunt and uncle could not decide what time they were planning on leaving for the lake Friday. Mom was going crazy (like me she likes a time line of when and where and how) so it was decided that after work Friday T and me would drive to Winnipeg, pick mom up and head off to Matlock Beach for the weekend.

(Side bar: Thursday night as I was making supper, T and me are talking. I was making mashed potatoes and the fork I had used to fluff them was covered in white, steaming butter covered potatoes so I stuck the fork in my mouth, tines down to lick it off. The fork got stuck in my mouth, caught behind my bottom eyeteeth. I was frantic. I tugged and could feel my teeth sorta move so I stopped. Visions flashed before my eyes of me having to go to the hospital emergency to have a fork removed from my mouth. I would have sat there for hours while nurses made fun of me behind their charts. I eventually wiggled it free and will never ever do that again. Tines up from now on)

Friday mom wants us to leave by 2 p.m. I did not walk out the door of work until 2 p.m. I also was unable to head home at lunch to get anything ready so when T and me got home I was flying around the house. Dishes had to be done. Garbage taken out. Pack clothing for two days and whatever toys T wanted. T is meandering around the house. I am nattering away about clothes and move your butt when T announces ‘mom the more you rush me the slower I am going to go. And I will forget stuff.’ Grrrrrrrr the logic of 8 year olds.

Finally we left. And I was directed to take a different route to my uncle’s. One that would avoid construction. One that took me via a complex maze of streets, four lane highways, merging and the need to find side streets to drive down. Needless to say, it did not work out well. My anxiety ramped right up. I ended up in the wrong lane and I had to turn. Slight detour. Finally, despite having made a wrong turn again I reassured T I knew where we were and not to worry. I also discovered that unless it involved Minecraft or Scrap Mechanic his skill for detail and remembering pertinent info is still unformed.

Fast forward ahead and we arrived at the lake safely and soundly. T was excited. Mom used me as a mule and I schlepped things in, helped to unpack and than poured a glass of wine. I felt the week’s stresses melt slowly away and I was looking forward to a nice weekend at the lake. Maybe the weather gods would be nice and actually provide us with beautiful weather for the weekend. (They did not the lousy jerks until I was reminded that they required sacrifice, mainly bare skin for the oogling……not when the temperature is only 15 with wind and clouds it isn’t. The weather gods and me just did not see eye to eye although I did show a little leg for their amusement.)

T had an awesome weekend. His friend from last year was out. They spent Friday evening and all day Saturday and evening playing. Still trying to figure out what they found to talk about because neither one stopped once. They created plays and played war games. Who knew that sticks could be the source of great amusement?

Sunday rolls around and we have to leave around 12:30. Sitting on the deck with mom while T and his friend KJ (to differentiate from K) ran around playing. Which is when they spied the pieces from the Ladder Golf game and asked if they could play. Which lead to me having to put it back together. Missing pieces. Small pieces jammed into three way pipe and nigh on immovable. I groused. Mom insisted.

I sat on the ground looking at the pieces. Mom went in and Youtubed a video. Wanted to take all the pieces inside to put together. I glared at her. I swore. I told her as I sat on the damp morning grass that she should just let me be, I would get it. I swore some more, stared at her over the top of my glasses and stated the obvious: ‘If some dumbass takes this apart this year, it is going into the fire next year!’

Took me about fifteen minutes to get the two pieces together. T and KJ began their game while mom and me went back to our crossword puzzles. Me still grumbling under my breath that she had best not expect me to make this an annual thing. I would not be putting it together again next year. (I may buy some compound cement and glue it all together mwahahahahhahahahahahaha)

And than the weekend came to an end. T and me had to leave as his dad was picking him up at 4 p.m. After he text me to ensure that this was his week to have T and what time was he to pick him up at. I sorta stared at that text for a moment or two trying to process how someone would need to be reminded of their week with their child but hey……..

This week has been busy busy busy. I am working to get everything done at work. I have been working out 1 hour and 15 minutes every other day. I have cut all the bad stuff out of my diet, wine, tobacco (7 months for that one!!!) and am working very hard to become healthier and stronger. My energy level is up (as proven by my body’s desire to be up at 6 a.m. today despite being able to sleep in) and my dreams are beginning to return. (Not dreams as in things I want to do but those fun and wacky images that run rampant at night.)

Next week is holidays and apparently the weather gods are suppose to be being kind. Hot and sunny. If they are really kind I may even get into the bathing suit and go swimming in the lake with T. But only if they are really kind.

It is summer time…..

Not entirely sure who is more excited for summer. Me, T or mom? Me, I love basking in the sun. Lying on the lounger, reading, getting a tan. T, easy enough, there is no school. Mom because she is home and gets to see her grandchildren and children.

Last year was the first year that my ex and me were in different homes. Which lead to a lot of behavioural issues with T as he tested boundaries, came to grips with the different lifestyle he now had to embrace. And mom got to witness the issues which lead her to have some rather distant feelings towards her grandson.

I understand. My own grandmother and me had a relationship that did not warm until I was an adult. Why? Because mom shared a lot with her, just as I share a lot with mom. This leads to judgements because this is their child that they want to protect. And also it bugged(s) the hell out of them to see disrespect being served to their children.

This year is different. Mom again came out and spent a few days with us. During school. So she walked to meet T after school, went to his school picnic. The two of them were able to spend one on one time together and T is a very different child than he was last year.

For myself, I am more confident than I was a year ago. Between learning how to stand on my own two feet and growing into most aspects of my life, the confidence oozes out of me. I think it may be a little disconcerting for some, but since going back onto my meds and just embracing the joy of life, I am evolving into the woman I always imagined that I would be.

Which leads me to the summer break. And the desire to spend more time up at the beach with mom and T. Actually, just the desire to spend more time with the two of them, and to watch a relationship evolve between the two that I thought might not happen.

I am very close with mom. So when she and T had their differences (okay he was a little brat and mom was frustrated with his behaviour and I really was no help) it hurt me. I want them to share the type of relationship that I had with my amma when I was little, with my grandfather as a teenager and young adult and with my grandma as I became an adult. It is not anything that I can force because than the closeness was not there.

But this year. This year it is. I am watching a relationship unfold that is going to benefit both mom and T. There are no words to describe the relationship I had with my three grandparents. Each one of them treated me differently and I learned so much from them. I loved each and every one of them differently and to this day (amma died when I was 10, grandpa when I was 21 and grandma when I was 39) I still tell T stories about all three of them. Today on the way home from the city T and me, we had a great conversation about gg-my grandma, his great grandma.

There has been laughter, cheers and the two of them have started an Uno contest. I am sure it will last all summer long. So the reason that I am not sure who is more excited has to do with this fragile new relationship that is forming before my eyes. I saw mom’s eyes gleam with excitment as she told me not once but several times how different T was. I witnessed how T reacted to mom, cleaning up (his bedroom folks is walkable!!!!!) no arguing and he wanted to be with her.

As for me, well I am excited to take a week’s holiday in July. I am so excited to see mom and T talking and being together. And they are funny. This is an example (I chortled and chortled about this):

A gentleman rides by us on his bike. I had to remind mom to move over on the path. Tember watches him go by and looks at me.

‘Mom, he has man boobs.’ he whispers kinda loudly.

‘They are suppose to have bells to let us know they are coming,’ mom sighs.

‘You call them bells?’ T is very confused. (at this point I began chortling)

Both mom and T were a little confused. But they got it worked out. And I giggled.

So maybe, truth be told, I am looking forward to this summer more than mom and T. They might be looking forward to spending time together. I am looking forward to the conversations, actions and weirdness that is going to come from our spending time together. There are going to be a lot of funny blogs/ideas that come out from this.

 

Ice Queen

‘You’re my Ice Queen’

he murmured in my ear

Pulling close the quilt so I would be warm

his arms locked around me

holding me in close comfort,

providing me with care.

Within his arms I melt,

my desires rising to match his

without him I feel as though the landscape changes

the vibrancy is gone

and I am lost in the greys and shadows that develop.

I feel secure within his embrace

craving more, not for romance or care

but because he is safe.

He is where I turn when the world becomes too much

for in his arms I find a sheltered haven

as he batters away the storms.

I lay my head upon his chest

listening to his heart beat

counting each one as the warmth of his body

seeps into mine.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

June 23/17

 

 

 

Succubus

Sultry seduction

walking through alleys of neon.

Scarlet shoes crush shards of glass

as she carries on.

The stench of tar, low brow

follows in her wake.

Tattered gown and vile detection

her glance behind assures I am hidden.

Slithering through the shadows

a haunted man, a ghoul caught

Ensnared by the succubus.

I only sought to be free.

How could no one see?

I mused, I mourned, for her eyes are blood red

Horns curl high above

but none see but a broken whore

close to falling.

My hand curls round the blade placed at my waist

as I follow further along the path

noticing not the fading light

the lack of commerce or even friendly folk.

Within the glade she first found me

we danced a delicate death

I knew now that there was no recourse

That all I could do is submit

for she is mine…….

and I am hers……..

to feed, to soothe, to be.

Forgive me father.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

June 20/17