FOR THE LOVE OF POETRY
Home
Hello?
I'm looking for home
Can you tell me where it is?
I've left some things behind and I want them back
Fresh samosas and hot tea for breakfast
An overcrowded house during the holidays
Sophia pretending to eat my face
As I hold her back in fits of laughter
Curling up on the sofa and watching TV
While mum talks on the phone to nani
Zac's gentle murmurs as he wanders the rooms
Looking for something to do, someone to play with
The muffled stillness of the house
When I wake at two in the morning
And everything is okay
I'm looking for home - do you know where it is?
It's been a while since I've been gone
I miss it dearly; it's making my heart ache
And I'd like to come back now
Grandpa
When grandpa came and stayed the night
Mum would boost the heating
He'd lie on the sofa, a blanket thrown over
The comforting smell of cigarettes lingering
My siblings and I would play on the floor
The red floral carpet stretching for miles
Every now and again, there'd be a rattling cough
While he snoozed away the minutes and hours
Twenty years later, I'm all grown up
With a full-time job and bills to pay
I believe in women's rights and I dislike cigarettes
…Though not as much when I think of grandpa back in the days
Mum shares a story from her late teen years
When she was newly married to dad
Grandma visited her house and was angry
Because grandpa had hit her pretty bad
The nineties
Sunlight streaming in through the windows
Red, floral carpet stretching for miles
We have the radio on, Dr Fox introducing the next indie rock
And we sit on the floor, draw, play and talk
Our lives small and confined within the four walls of this house
We know nothing of the world outside
How lovely it is, our lives quite purposeless
To not think about the future
But only the minute we exist in time
The last dream
I can’t remember
It slipped through my fingers like water
If my body was a poem
If my body was a poem
It would speak of scars
Old and new
Deep and shallow
And the scars would tell stories
Of salty rivers running down cheeks
And secret sobs lost to lonely midnights
My poem would describe roads
Expanding like veins
Thick and thin
Smooth and crooked
Paint landscapes of mountains and trees
At the break of dawn, looking surreal
My body is a poem
With curled, yellowing pages and blotched indigo ink
Faded lead, an old bookmark slipped in
Collected from a journey long ago, far away
Now only a memory mingled with dreams
The aftertaste of nameless emotions
Time
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Clock
Runs
We
Run
Eat
Sleep
Work
Marry
Eat
Sleep
Make
Life
Eat
Sleep
Work
Die
Tick
Tock
No
More
Before I sleep
Sometimes you are a brand new home
Endless white-walled large rooms
Ready to be filled with vivid Sesillie Girellis
And a lively family
An overgrown garden of wildflowers
A haven for the birds and the bees
Eliciting curiosity and wonder in the minds of little loved ones
Their feet pattering on the patio
An old wooden door
Submerged in crumbly bricks
Half-hidden by ivy leaves
A heavy brass knob, ready to be turned
To lead us into the wilderness
Thick with trees and brushes
A bed of leaves carpeting the floor
Swallowing echoes of conversations and cries of joy
And sometimes you are the house I occupy now
But with wider corridors
Floor-to-ceiling windows welcoming the sun
Bamboo sticks singing in the wind
And when I am able to let go of the bricks and mortar
You are a hot, dry village in Zambia
Dark brown children with smiles on their lips
Or a colourful, bustling town in Colombia
Welcome in the eyes of the locals
You are the warmth through greetings
And invites into homes and cafes
Introductions and shared meals with family and friends
A full life captured through my lens
You are the feeling of nakedness
The chains of lifelong rules stripped away
Finally unburdened
I am just a human exploring the earth
Life pulsing excitedly through my veins
When I lay my head on my pillow