24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Fairface longs to see the world
Childhood home lies at his back,
Bread and milk are all his pack.
Tests to face upon the road,
Old sage giving him advice.
Seeking shelter from the storm,
Here, a castle! Worn and old.
In a castle lives a hag,
Coarse her manners and her face
Fairface seeks the heart within
A curse revealed, at last undone,
Love and patience win the day.
From a short story I wrote many years ago, gender-flipping “Beauty and the Beast”.
Wanted:
Attractive Arian woman to taste and eat delicious, well prepared food.
Dine in the world’s finest European restaurants.
Must like expensive beer, wine, and vegetables.
Meet interesting and important people.
Travel and clothing allowance.
Become part of a world- wide movement.
Must have clean health record and undergo extensive physical exam.
Must be willing to sacrifice for the greater good.
Low incidence of death.
By Sue Storts
08/13/2016
Where is my support
When I’m buried deep,
So deep in my struggles?
I cry for you,
I scream for you,
I knocked really hard,
But YOU won’t answer.
Do you hear me?
Or are you listening at all?
When I can’t see my way,
And need aspiration,
I wonder, I think
Where is my inspiration?
The clouds this morning look of rain
Will the flowers rejoice
For weeks, their buds have cried in vain
With nary another choice
The heat has risen from the ground
To smother and to steal
The sacred drink they need for life
That they now need to heal
The flowers’ leaves, once bright and green
Now wilted, spotted brown
The happy little blooms of hope
Now bow their heads to frown
But, wait…. alas what’s that I hear
A loud, thunderous boom
Maybe today shall bring the end
Of summer’s drought and doom
As I sit here waiting.
Anticipating the coming hours.
The next prompt. That births each one.
My nerves grating, my stomach aching.
My hands and body shaking.
The second hour in, I’m physically sick.
Headache approaches, in the third.
My mind teetering.
Taking the time, to get the words down.
Get them, to the people who need them.
The question lingers, who will read them.
Love, where is the love?
Light, where is the light?
Then you came along
and everything started
to make sense.
You are home
to this wandering soul.
j.r.m© 2016
(Continuation of Poem 1, Hour 1, and Poem 2, Hour 2)
She woke
the sun blunted dim
mucous yellow
she is covered in ash
ashes of her friends
her family
her neighbors
her strangers
they lined her lashes
falling onto her face
what will you do now?
they whispered into her ears
I can’t recall the painfull tale, the scar was deeply embedded and left a story to tell.
My emotional pain, was horizontally wrapped my whole being and for every untold story,
I held back my tears.
My body shakes in fear, the brutal shallow hole made by sharp object, tranquillized my lips.
The rough sweeping stroke, we’re like edges of blades and the soft skin, begun to bleed in mercy.
Burning flesh, for every scourging I received, fourty times fourty slashes to be exact, it went through the skin.
Deeper and deeper, the battered body will no longer heal.
Overwhemingly, I suffered humiliation in front of people who condemn me to death.
Tormented and broken, I endured the agony of what was like a martyrdom,
Every veins in my body, bleeding uncontrollably and I was left,
Naked and deliriously running a fever, in a dark cold room.
My trembling body drained its strength and so worn out.
Tears in my eyes ran dry and cuddled me gently to sleep.
I screamed in my dreams, begging for freedom until,
My voice hushed in silent,
My verdict was final and I am finished.
