The writer hits a fork in the road on his anecdotal concept of HOME, the illusions, and how it translates on the shores of ethereality. Enjoy this beautiful poetic rendition.
H-O-M-E
Four-letter word that means everything
Yet for some reason we all can’t have it
Some people think they are owed it
Others think they owe it
Perhaps if only we would all just own it
Own it that HOME is who you are not where you are
Own it that perhaps HOME is not a location but a transit station deciding who arrives and who departs
H-O-M-E
Four letters that shaped my perception of perfection
Four letters that has defined my lens on family
Father. Mother. Children
The divine cosmic order since The Big Bang
The order we all come from and are told we must replicate to prove completion
And so we spend our lives chasing this beautiful dream designed by the creator as the proverbial archetype of a fulfilled life
Ironic, isn’t it?
HOME
One word that means the world to many
Yet I still can’t find mine
Perhaps like my teachers, my reward is not in this lifetime
Perhaps my home transcends time
Perhaps like Jim Reeves, I’m just passing through
Perhaps we all are
And this is just a mirage we eventually wake up from
A reflection of our own demise
HOME
A word that connotes “full” yet leaves you empty
A word that identifies “family” yet you feel like a stranger
“You are a guest,” she said
Maybe don’t get too comfortable
Maybe don’t kick your feet up on the sofa just yet
Because the doormat never said “Welcome”
Reality check; Like the beast, you weren’t close enough to feel loved yet family enough to carry the burden of responsibility
HOME
She said this was a safe space
Yet I always felt out of place
And so, I gave her some space
Hoping some day she would recognise my place
In my place, she brought Josh
Only, I couldn’t be replaced
So now we all are displaced
Emotions all over the place
Imperfect people looking for a perfect home in imperfect people
HOME
On an island, far away from home
She won’t stop blowing up my phone
She queried, “When are you coming home?”
Perhaps when I find one who could make it one.
“But I could make your house a home,” she said
What if you were a wrecker not a builder?
Perhaps home is not actually who you are but where peace resides
She asked, “Why can’t I be your peace?”
Because peace leave where guns live
H-O-M-E
Four letters from which we came, and to which we shall return
Yesterday, I went to a memorial in the city
Damn, we lost Russ
He left us, but somehow it felt like he was right with us
Maybe we are all renting until when we are called home
Life is such a touchy subject yet teaches us hard lessons
Death, however, that brutal teacher whose class we could never skip…
To be continued….
WRITTEN BY: DANNY
DANNY WORLD 