Unbeliever

Actions
speak so much louder
than words
falling from lying lips.
Platitudes mouthed
‘Come save your soul’.
Hesitate not
for the gates of Hell
wide open
for sinners such as myself
for small children
whose only sin was to be  burdened
with adult concerns.
Sit in your castle
built upon the blood of innocents
demanding more…..
more money
more sacrifice
more of everything you declare holy.
Fight against basic truths
demean
degrade
fancy words spewed to others like you.
My lips twist with derision
when I see you
for you have decided that you
and you alone
are the one who gets to call down hellfire
on all who are unlike.
disgusting
degenerate
with money
with women
with sanctimonious piety.
Tis not me that you need to be afraid of
but that god
you use to cow
to manipulate
to abuse
anyone
who is an unbeliever to you.
Oct. 19/18
Photo by Grant Whitty on Unsplash

Subvert

**I submitted two poems to The New Yorker. This is one of the two. I obviously was rejected but I can say with pride I was rejected by The New Yorker.***
There is an evil rot within
leaching from the heart
any illusion
that there remains some good.
Time and time again
it has been proven
that society has become doomed
trading away
ethics
morals
basic humanity.
Twisting and subverting
with each falsehood told
embraced
with zeal
religious fevor
becoming the very demon
decried as the enemy.
We have failed.
We have lost our way.
One by one
we have been corrupted
by lies
by slight of hand
and the tears that are wept
fall between the cracks
in this desert land.
©Feb. 23/18
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

Devil’s Due

He stood upon the pulpit
glaring down at the pews
sinners
no repentence
at his door.
His voice was thunderous
calling down doom
destruction
shouting that God would  kill them all
a grevious flood
was going to abound.
The parishioners stared at him
eyes glazed with fear
glances darting about
looking for the demons behind every door.
raucous call like a crow
blazing eyes
today’s takings would be good
it always was
when he gave the devil his due.
August 25/18
Photo by Ihor Malytskyi on Unsplash

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