Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join the community to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
home is where i
feel safe.

home is where i
can cry
scream
punch
and kick
without fear
of judgement.

home is where i
can be who i am
and not worry about
having to be someone else.

home is where i
can express emotion
and not feel as a burden
for letting people
into my mind.

home is what i
think of
when i think of
comfort
and warmth.

home is what i
think of
when i think of
you.
i never want to go outside.
Xaela San 13h
My
    home
       is a
          paradise

Where I
    get the
         power
            to rise!
how sad
how infuriating
most of all
how pathetic
it is
to know
that still, today, after everything
I'm still stuck in the mud that is your love
i'm still here, praying
in the end
it'll be me and you
it'f funny because
I convinced myself after you finally left I'd be able to move forward
but today, I lay, alone.
my bruises, faded.
my tears, dried.
& my skirt had been dusted from all the remains of you
so why in hell
do I still feel like this?
Paralyzed...
I'm bound to a person
who turns his head at my phone calls
I know I know
I should be so far gone by now.
I even know I deserve better.
but it doesn't seem to stop me
I wake each morning
I dream each night
I make the choice everyday
to sit in our spot
& wait for your return

- When are you coming home?
Sanjali 1d
Perhaps it’s been a thousand years,
the rivers have shifted so,
the lakes I swam in, have gone dry
the waterfalls though, overflow.
And so it is, that I have wandered back
tugged furiously throughout days
by this rugged tinkling thread
back to this ancient maze.

Most surely it’s been several weeks
the leaves are rough to touch,
the grass withers where I step
but trees don’t ask for much.
And so it is, that I have rambled on
pulled strangely through the haze,
at last I fall under the rays of morn,
My love, I’m home again.
Lost and found
Who am I?

This is how it feels,
Total solitude;
I dont know who I am,
My body wants no food.

What have I done?
I must have done something;
Everyone and everything gone,
I must have done something.

Something terrible, something wrong,
For why would I be so alone?
It seems like so long,
Since I have felt “at home”.

I dont know where home is,
Where do I belong?
Home is where the heart is,
What did I do wrong?

I have let people down,
And not just one or two,
I have let people down
Here and in the South Atlantic too.

How can there be so many,
And now no one?
The fog seems very thick,
Everyone has gone.

How can you belong
When you dont fit in?
How can you forgive,
When you know not what you’re forgiving?

Was it me or was it them?
Now we shall never know;
I never meant to harm them,
I did no wrong....but even so...

When they are so many,
And your memories not so clear,
How can you even trust yourself?
With a mind filled with fear?

I know them,
Do they know me?
How can it be possible
That they cannot see?

I must have done wrong,
I must have deserved this;
There can be no other reason,
I must have deserved this.

I feel evil and cruel,
Never meant anyone harm,
But it seems I must have done,
Ive caused so much alarm.

How do I trust my memories
If there is nobody left?
Why dont I know what is real?
How can there be no one left?

My earlier writing met silence,
I heard from not a single one;
It seems no one wants to know,
I feel they blame me for what I “have done”

If it was my fault afterall,
How do I ever put things right?
Is he dead because of me?
A dead man cannot fight.

Nothing makes any sense,
What is right or wrong,
Just a mass of confusion
About where I “should belong”

Are the things in my head real?
Can they be trusted?
Or have I caused so many lives
To be completely shattered?

There were people on my side,
Yes, only a few;
But now where have they gone?
I wish somebody knew.

I am tired and confused,
I dont know if I was abused,
How can I ever know for sure?
When im so confused.

The world is no longer real,
I dont know who I am;
How can anyone heal?
If I dont know who I am?

The world now scares me a lot,
I dont want it to see me;
Im hiding in this “internal place”
Yet at the same time wanting to flee.

Everything is disturbing,
Nothing is how it was;
I want to hide from everyone,
And I have no answers.

But I am being called,
And the calling is so strong;
There are people I DO trust,
A place where we are...”at one”.

Some may think im mad,
But for me I have to go;
I left my soul in Africa,
I left it in Soweto.

I have to go back and find it,
To find myself as well;
And perhaps bring it back this time..
Only time will tell...

Its going to be a mission,
Im taking gifts for many;
The postal system’s shit,
But the people are worth every penny.

Please Mandela let my brain function,
So I can help those who need me;
As all the time i’ve spent with them....
....i’ve never felt so free.

UNkulunkulu akubusise Soweto ❤️
A poem I forgot I had written some time back  I think its fairly along the lines of my others :(
Piku 2d
i was nervous and my hands were turning cold
thunder and lightening striking bold
you were waiting for me outside
while i'm stuck with a hold
you were dripping wet
i wanted to bring you under my fold
that's when i saw the love of my life
outside my home, wet and cold.
16.8.2018
It is a part of me now.
The smell of fermenting hops in the wind
white flowers and jasmine in summer
the call of trains as they depart
foxes at night, inquisitive introverts
the smell of rain after sun
flying ants on the patio
unwanted evidence of cats in the alleyway
the sweet stench of doughnuts, not yet forgotten
ice cream sirens, a warning to placating parents
low voices in the evening
windows stretching open
feet on carpet that still acts new
This is home
This is (ho)me
to the only one who can rest my anxious heart
to the only one who can quiet my foolish thoughts
to the Father that created me
knowing I would turn my back on him
to the one whose arms were open when I returned
to the sweet promises you have always kept
to the one whose pursuit was steady in my wandering
you're the only place I can make my home
so even in the uncertainty I will dwell in you
and I am not sure of almost anything
but I am sure that wherever I go, you are with me
Isolation within my time,
Stuck in a well sticking to my feet.
Working till death to finish my design,
Running late, borderlines to meet.
A hero of management,
An Hr call left at the tone.
Stuck in my cubicle fortress.
The place I'm forced to call home.
I don't wanna be stuck in the loop of the cubicle slaughterhouses.
Auntie Em is calling….

I was just getting to love my Emerald City
The shiny feel of it, its sweetly diverse demi-monde.
Its shimmering green beauty and tranquil sense of safety.
The heels of my ruby red slippers were well & truly dug in.
But no, the state fair balloon stands before me tied up & ready to go.
A grand exclamation mark in my way if ever there was one.
And Toto for once has gone mute, no chance of a last minute hold up.

"Dorothy, Dorothy, where are you?"

I guess it must have been too fantastical a dream to be true.
A time for goodbyes.
I’m embracing the Lion telling him to always be proud of himself & not to walk unafraid.
The Tin Man’s gentle open heartedness I compliment him on as we both shed tears.
The Scarecrow I kiss and thank for his loyalty & grace under fiery pressure.
With a heavy heart, I climb that first tentative step on the block.  

"We’re sick with worry over you"

I could be angry but the wise words of the mystic ring loudly in my year.
I do need to go back – My Auntie Em is really calling me.
Calling me back to the grey flatlands of home.
Back to the numbness of small town heteronormativity.
Where Twisters rarely every came by to sweep you away and save you.
I could only keep singing ‘Over The Rainbow’ in vain hope.

"Find yourself a place where you won't get into any trouble!

Unlike Dorothy Gale, this Dorothy left Kansas voluntarily
The long yellow brick road finally took me under the rainbow and on to my Emerald City
I no longer pined for home but knew all along that it would call me back one day.
And so here I am, drifting higher & higher away from my adopted home.
Perhaps I need to build a revolving door when I get there to pass through both worlds easily
Or perhaps bring something of the rainbow back to illuminate the grey-lands.
Or perhaps – in reality -  some reconciliation between these worlds is in order.
Perhaps.
It’s time to slip on the ruby red slippers and prepare the way for Kansas.
Yes, this Dorothy has surrendered but
I always had the power to be me, my dear.
I just had to learn it for myself.

August –September 2018
This poem was written in response to my feelings about some tragic news I received last month & how I was dealing with it. Initially, it was quite deep & bitter in the way it wallowed over the world I thought I was losing because of my duty to family. My home town is a stifling throwback to bad old neanderthal homophobia and has nary a sniff of transcendental beauty unlike my adopted home.

However, I thought long & hard and realised that because I now stand tall as a proud bi/pan/queer person I should take what I have gained and use it to guide me. Plus my anger was wrongly placed - not at the family member for taking me away from my Emerald City but cancer itself for throwing chaos into our lives.
Next page