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

Who I am as a Writer

That is the fun about exploring who cares if it matches or makes sense?

Of late I have found myself reading posts and forums on the work of writing. How outlines must be created, chapters briefly explained. How every day one must sit down at a certain time and write a certain amount of words. I read these words and I am at a loss to understand.

I am not that type of a writer. I cannot do outlines. I cannot set aside time every day at a set time to write.  I write when my voices speak to me. I have no control over what I write because I am only the conduit for my characters.

Does that sound odd? I have always been lost to my characters. I can write no outlines because I do not know where the story is going. I cannot control much beyond finding pen and paper or my phone to write on if they decide to talk to me when I am not at home and have my computer handy.

My email is filled with little notes to myself from my characters. Not because I believe that they are truly sending me emails but because some times they let me know of a small but important factor of the story not yet told. And so I email myself that note so as to not lose it and every time I open up to check other emails, there is it re-reminding me of their intent.

My first draft will include everything that my characters want it to include. The second draft will be a parsing of the first draft. In some cases whole chapters will be rewritten or deleted as unnecessary. Third draft a little more cutting and reshaping. The story is still all theirs I am just modifying with their assistance. Fourth draft, by than we have found our voice and the story speaks strongly. This is based on my experience of writing a novel in high school.

My characters stopped coming to me when I become not me. Twenty some long years while they remained silent. My poetry was my only outlet but it was written in bursts of heartache and pain. Depression and naked vitriol. Since becoming the saner happier version of myself, my characters are returning in full force. They are awakening and boy oh boy are they rarin’ to go.

I look at my writing today and I love where it is going. I am never going to be famous because of my words and I probably never will make enough money that would allow me to retire from my job and write full time. But I will write. And I will create. Because for me, like the Bards of times passed, it is the story and the characters that call to me and draw me in.

I chose to share my writing in part due to a fellow blogger who pushed and kicked me into joining WordPress. Also, I finally am in a space in my life where I am proud of how I write and I want others to enjoy it. I do not seek acclaim (a wee bit of praise is nice lol but just knowing others see my posts is validation) for I finally am writing in freedom and peace, and I am loving it.