Banal Acquisition

Once upon a time
the way all fairy tales start
prince comes
princess goes
flamboyant man
simpering woman
they deserve one another.
Sit through
another grotesque dinner
japes made
feelings shredded
believing
this is reality
chin on hand
glaring over wine cup
sneering
omg
this is the best of them?
Have you heard
how I will save
the country
the economy
everything
god
worship at my feet
marry me
no one else can beat.
Have you 
never seen
curled lip
derision at words
falling
disgust laced
too stupid to realize.
Parade
a’fore me
measure of men
jesters
jackasses
so sick am I
of
strength of stupidity
let them rule
crowed at me.
Shake my head
must make a choice
damn tedious
listening to all the boasting
savior naught
sycophants lie
too bad
you cannot see that.
©May 24/20
Picture via Pinterest

Sacrifice

Each one dressed with virginal care

snow white robes gleam

headdresses that fall

covering their faces.

Each one dressed in blackened hues

suits of ore

top hats cocked

spats all aligned.

Blushing brides

arranged in a row

seeing not the men before them.

Blindfolds are tightened

and hands are bound

girlish giggles stutter through the air

as each prepares for their mate.

The men stand a pace apart

guns raised.

One by one 

they are shot down

life eradicated 

in a ceremony of blood.

High upon the dais

the Jester holds court

squalid and evil

sacrifice made

so he can rule forever more.

***Picture found last year on Internet***

 

The Jester’s Bride

Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls about.
Lost within the leafy maze
unsure whether those statues are moving
or if it is shadows playing tricks?
I can hear the baying of the hounds
and wonder, can they be for me?
I escaped from the prison of my mind
fighting my way back
from the depths of the madness
only to discover that there is no way out.
I whirl around, fear tangent in the air
my breath comes in brisk gasps
fear reaching out with blackened limbs
ready to encircle,
to entwine,
to capture me and pull me back.
Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls
and the Jester roars.
His laughter savage
as I am pinned,
beneath his silvered gaze.
There will be no freedom,
no relief
only a soul mired in anguish
the Jester’s bride,
captured and maddened,
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
Nov. 29/17