Sidling Shadows

She moves like a languid lynx

slinking across glass littered alleys

tacky with the tears

of so many shattered dreams.

Hard and heartless, she has closed down

using her body as a commodity.

To survive, to entrap, to getting what she wants.

Unsure that even she knows.

Men made her this way.

From a father who held her too dear

to a brother she fought with fear.

From boyfriend to boyfriend

each one always the same…..

It was only the faces and bodies

that changed.

Women too had a hand here.

A mother who turned from her tears

to a sister who could only feel relief.

From girlfriend to girlfriend

relationships found growing in rocky graves

mistrust and jealousy….

It was only the clothes and hair

that changed.

No time for tears.

No time for love.

No time for comfort.

Delving into the underbelly

schooled in trash

she moves like a languid lynx

sidling through the shadows.

Your worst dream.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 10/17

Advertisements

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

 

 

 

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

Addiction

He stood over the abyss, toes curled against rock

the thirst, the hunger

the anger, the hatred

eating at his soul.

Within his mind bruised the words

of mobs chasing

who thought they were better

who thought they should know.

On his knees he crawled through filth and muck

weeping tears that none could see.

A sneer twists his lips,

wicked words that punish those;

those who thought they knew best,

those who thought they knew more.

A false thought of flight

as he jumps forth to the air

waiting for the rescue

he was certain was near.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

June 16/17

Devouring My Soul

The space was cavernous,

sparkles hidden high in the ceilings depth

throughout it her voice was soft and liquid

a sensuous lover

caressing each and everyone of us.

‘Close your eyes my dearest

and from your minds we will see

memories and laughter light

a budding of thee.’

A collective sigh as each was touch

the gentlest of words whispered

the tension the stress the anger

all began to fade and dissipate.

‘From here we see a boy and his puppy

each chasing a ball’

‘Over here a young girl blossoming

her self becoming so much more.’

‘Look here as he creates so carefully

the models and images of his mind.’

‘See there, the girl who fought for it all

whose dreams are still in the making.’

Deep thunder rolls through the cavern

the walls, the pews tremble

Everyone cries out in fear

as her voice begins to soar.

Wicked ice, and bitterness boil over her tongue

turning each memory into a nightmare.

‘You terrorized that boy and his dog,

laughing at their expense.

Your hatred and bigotry have marked thee

bend before the prince.’

‘The girl you raped and pillaged

showing it all on social media

she has found you time and time again

and she has made you repent.’

With each word spoken the chill did grow.

As all realized what had been done.

Her tone a whiplash tearing at the skin

gripping the side of the podium.

Leaning forward, flames wreathing her eyes

and a blood red smile on her lips.

‘The young man who could have been our saviour

mocked and spurned

For he spoke truths you could not see

and in the darkness did death glean.’

Her ire grew

the shadows flaring on walls as fire reared

the audience pinned to their chairs

shackled hand and foot.

‘As for that girl who fought for it all

before you she stands

and just so you know you all shall fall

for my dreams are still coming true

even when it means the devouring of my soul.’

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

June 16/17

Simplicity

When I sit down as the story gathers

the words writing themselves before my fingers

I hear the voices and begin to learn

the beauty of their tales.

There is simplicity when I give myself over

simplicity in the words that I write

For within these songs

within these walls, you will find my soul.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

June 3/17

Untitled 6

I do believe that I have loved you since the beginning of time;

a soft sigh, a quick glance.

I hope you do not believe that bullshit.

How can anyone love another human being

since the beginning of time?

You swore to never abandon me and yet let us look around

I do not see a man standing near

waiting to hold my hand.

I see loneliness and pain,

strife and betrayal,

I see wars that you have fought

all in my name.

Why must you continue to batter me?

Force your way through the walls I have erected

never more shall I love you,

never more shall I give.

Begone, harry me no more, for I love you not

and cannot forever more.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

May 29/17