Moonlit Wonder

When I was a young  girl
mama warned me
showed me true
all would try to use me
to get what they want.
Sweet words
cooed in my ear
slowly stroking my hair
feeling your hand
(all hands)
caress my curves.
Made to feel safe
made to feel secure
your promises
wrapped in golden ribbons
bubble around
protecting me from the world.
(First razor word
sliced through my heart)
Crimson blood wells
anger
rage
black
foul
turns like a knife
battlefield on my skin
mouth your inanitites
eyes flat
broken
your lies float in the air
tangible.
(There is no escape
there is no where to run
I will find you always
promised on the wind)
One…..
Two…..
Three…..
Twenty-Nine…..
Forty…..
Forty One.
I thought for sure
as I record your name
in my Book of Death
that you were the end
only to discover
that mama was right
men should never be trusted.
©July 29/19
Picture via Pinterest

Stain upon my soul

I wrote this in 2012 on this day. I have been paying attention to my ‘On this day….’ and rediscovering lost words. Picture is also mine.

Begone, beyond, feelings tossed to the moors

frightful, disturbing, unwanted, pain

Rapture, only found with denial, with revulsion

go not into the embrace, but fight for hell.

You say you will forgive me, you will wipe away my tears

you say that your eyes alone, can divine the stain upon my soul.

You say that through you and you alone, can I find salvation.

yet you turn your head, your ears, your eyes

When I do not behave;

how your ambassadors on earth feel I should.

Call me not a coward, nor defiant

you and you alone gave me free will

My choice, my decision, my desire

hurt not others, all shall be good.

Find the stain upon my soul,

enough to curse me.

To send me to hell.

Yet you gave me the ability to choose,

and still you punish.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 5/12

 

 

 

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

Dreams

I do know that not a lot of people remember their dreams. And I admit that my own dreams are often vague and odd. However there have been a few times where I have had dreams that I remember years later.

First time: I was like nineteen and dreaming about Hawkeye and BJ from M.A.S.H.  I was nineteen in 1991, M.A.S.H. had been off the air for nine years. It was not even as though I was watching reruns as I was sharing an apartment downtown on Hargrave St. with two roommates. We did not even have a television. (Total story for another time) And that dream segued into a dream about my first love at the age of fourteen.

Second time: I had an amazing dream. It had to do with witches, a magic spell book, terror and every time I woke up, I fell right back into the dream when I fell back to sleep. Ogres appeared and Kings and Mages. When I awoke to get ready for work, I was pumped. I had dreamed the entire book. Within fifteen minutes it was gone. Devastated I was. When is anyone ever going to dream a dream like that??????

Third time: Last July. I was brutally sick. I staggered into work at 5:30 a.m. and begged the poor girl who I was training to please work for me. I had my head on the table falling back asleep as she was asking me questions. Summer and here I was wearing a sweater and a jacket. Next day she asked if she could step down. I was horrified but oh man was I ever sick.

I came home and between 6:15 a.m. when I crawled back into bed and until around 4:30 a.m. the next Saturday, I slept the sleep of the ill and dead. M brought me Tylenol, I crawled up the stairs and opened the door, she covered her mouth, dropped the tablets into my hand and ordered me back to bed. There were no dreams.

Until 4:30 a.m. (I actually woke myself up screaming) I had been reading a book in which Shadows played a huge part. No longer remember the book. Also to set the scene, I have had several dreams in which all the light bulbs are blown. No matter which lights I tried, every single one was burned out and there was not a bulb to be found anywhere. (If anyone knows what it means that all lights have burned out with no replacements please let me know. I looked it up on-line and there is no explanation.) I am in a castle. The sky is black, sharp slashes of lightening spearing the air, giving just enough light. Wicked winds blow through, my hair and cloak blinding me. My fingers find a switch and flick it. Nothing. Another slash of lightening. And I realize I am being followed.

For within the darkness shadows lurk. I have a staff. When I swing out the staff passes through the shadow and it dissipated. So while this inspired me and I swung this way and that, more shadows crowded in. And there was no damn light bulb to be found. At all, anywhere. Than I made a startling discovery. First one was that the staff I thought I was carrying, turned out to be my curtain rod from the living room. The second realization (there was still a lot of animosity at this time) was that the shadows actually were not attacking me. They were after my ex. Who it turns out was also in my dream. The castle was dilapidated.  Every shard of lightening showed me that. And I still could not find a damn light.

Let us now fast forward approximately ten months. Within the last two weeks, I have begun to dream. Nothing substantial, nothing that I even remember. During the day a small flash may come to me but not enough to piece the dream together.  And than this morning. I awoke at 6 a.m. and it was close to 7 before I fell back to sleep. But when I did, I had a dream. A dream about all the damn light bulbs being burned out.

While a great part of me is excited that I am finally dreaming/remembering my dreams again, there is a part that is scared. Once, my dreams were full of me loosing my teeth. Horrible dreams those were. They have since been replaced by dreams of no light anywhere, and I have to admit, that scares me more than my lips sinking in as my teeth fall out.