24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Sweat pours and gathers in the dark.
It can be cold as a refrigerator and her collar still gathers sweat over night.
There is no reason
No good rule to follow
It was what it was.
You cant change the wind by blowing into the storm.
So you smile into the breeze and clean up after it blows over.
Rock steadies my feet; we stood here together. An ache, relentless, crushes my core, from which legs are like nothing; inadequate trusses.…
Yet still I stand.
Now, from below the Earth, our beacon rises. I know nothing of God, but still I stand. I only know the truths beyond knowledge.
I hear myself! … The moon never answers but its reflected light attests… the sun is there always, even when it is gone. Somehow I know strength endures, though not where… It’s so cold now, but I stand because I know, from knowing you, why I must lead the pack.
I held onto the afternoon,
My fingers tinged light pink,
With fear of what was coming soon,
For night brings time to think.
But like the dawn turns into day,
The day turns into night,
Lost and lonely on my way,
I held the fading light.
And as the sun sank lower still,
I felt the thoughts emerge,
Filling me with icy chill,
As fear and fact converge.
The darkness now consuming stains my mind a shade of black,
And though the sun is coming I know I’m never going back.
” Beware of what raps at your door at 3 am”
Wicked 3 am is here,
What unearthly , nightmarish beings
Will rap upon my door?
Ghosts of yesterday
Linger and mingle,
Whispering, growling, howling,
Making their presence known.
Morning is nowhere near sight.
For 3 am is the hour of the witch,
Black magic, white magic,
it is no matter,
Malicious, nefarious demons with seven names,
Are conjured at 3 am.
Beware of who will rap at your door at 3 am.
Two gasping
Quick inhalations
And then
‘You have got to learn
To wing it
Only then can we
All flock together”
She told me when I was age four
Then there was that day
The day of
Blood
They called her grandmother
I called her grandmother too
She said, ‘child,
Nothing can ever harm us
Save that which we fear
Or that which we love’
Gasp
Breath like knives
In my lungs
Grandmothers face
A mask of riteous fury
A quick inhalation
A sob
Grandmother holds me
The bad man dead
We both safe
Covered in his murderous
Blood
You left me in the rain
You said you would be back with an umbrella
It has now been 2 hours
Yet I have stayed
Why did I stay in the rain
Because I believed that you would come back
And I still believe
There were never stories at bed time,
with a hug and a kiss,
there was no connection,
they were merely the kids;
a duty,
obligation,
quite simply a chore,
needed to cover the truth
behind closed doors;
a marriage of convenience,
with no love in the mix,
the ones that suffered the most,
were those
three
kids;
they paid with their hearts,
they paid with their souls,
that slowly froze inside them,
from a mother so cold.
Concealed beauty
Reach unreachable heights,
Self becomes No self
Only one with awareness
Can SEE that beauty
Under my veil
There is such a beauty
How can I let myself
Be seen?
Seema Sahoo – ©
Part IXX
So,
he got the best of me;
young, untouched, naïve, conforming…
I cannot have a do over,
now I am pushing fifty,
survived a myriad of physical calamities,
never even entertained filling his spot;
I cannot go through that again –
educated but dumb,
a weakling in strength,
that four year old inside me,
who remembers a mother who didn’t want children,
also remembers a husband who didn’t deserve her;
she wants to forget,
so that the skeins of rope stay beyond grasp…
– Michellia D. Wilson 8/24/14 2 AM
Sometimes i judge myself, this world is so hard to live in, I just want to be me…