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there is a place by the sea
where unburdened timbers jut from the ground
in neat little rows;
blades of grass in a field of stone.
monuments of mothers, fathers, children, stand
all weathered by the salt and wind
and laced with wild roses.

silence, here, is holy,
broken only by the waves that wash the shore
and spray the air,
and fill the space with echoes.
gliding softly over all, from hill to hill
and back again, like all those happy voices did
so long ago, when I was young.
Meditation on the resettlement movement of Newfoundland.
Wenwenchi Apr 12
Tell me

Why are there no stars
on the other side
of the world

Why does the air I breathe
make me feel sick
to my stomach

Why does sleep make me feel tired
and being awake helpless

I was promised so much more
but what are promises for in the first place
when there's no blue blue sky
to hold me tight
and to whisper
everything will be alright
BadBookthief Apr 7
🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Every

nook and cranny

of the crumbling

ruins

were reeking of

such homesick

memories,

I kissed the

rotting debris

as if it were

a lover’s lips

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

#badbookthiefpoetry
For more poetry, check out my page @badbookthief on
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Thank you!
Far away from home
Sometimes I feel so alone
But don’t get me wrong
I know, I know the same Sun is shining above
On my head, oh my head
Is spinning around with my thoughts
Going around in circles
Playing around with my soul

When I’m lonely
Music is my remedy
Red and white and green
Oh you don’t know what I mean
When I say March 15 or August 20
Or flag with a hole in it
And Trianon’s ****** up treaty
But that’s just the past

When you talk it’s total non-sense
But I feel you when you’re playing
Different words
But total same thoughts
Brain’s not working
Only the heart

Don’t say a word
Just smile at me
I will know it immediately
Sight of the sea and fjords around me
Do I belong here?
Something tells me
It is my world now
From 2014 originally written as a song
Tiana Mar 9
Can you imagine looking
down on earth from outer space?

And the feeling you'll get?
  Thrilling
Yet somehow terrifying,
Homesick
Yet so beautiful from far;

You yearn to go back
but at the same time
you want to stay back
And enjoy the ethereal sights,

Because deep down you know
that someday
you'll be back home;
Just some random thoughts
fray narte Mar 7
My heart is a shrivel of miagos bushes,
uprooted, shoved, chucked in new soil;
the leaves between my lips,
now, in an unhealthy shade of chartreuse.

Regardless, I have taught myself
to shear them into tiny leaf crumbs,
making trails —
marking the houses, the buildings,
the roads of this foreign city,
safekeeping directions
into a catalog of things that aren't home.

My feet are weary and somehow,
they manage to find their way
back in this cold, oppressive room.
And yet, how does one sleep under the glare of these walls?
How does one revive a dying garden
in a city that only knows
the language of tires as they kiss the pavements,
in a city that only knows
the walis tingting's weary sweeping
of these crumbs of miagos leaves —
the ones leading back home?

Yes,

I can teach my tongue and all its browning, dying leaves
to remember these new ways of growth,
these new words, new schedules,
new routes, new streets.

Alas, even the waters, even the sun
can't teach it to love the language it doesn't speak.
effie ebbtide Feb 27
the mirror you stand in is a reflection of
a river you stand in, a reflection of a
stone that in the heat of the day
is warm by the coming of sunset

earth's last wrinkling seed is decaying, and superseding it
are the ophanim-head many-winged nightcrawlers who weep
gamma rays and pray, behind their stargazing eyes,
to remember the home they remembered several lives ago

oh sonar, oh radar, oh radiophonic monarchy
please boost your signal so our kin can hear
our pleas for a tomorrow that we begged for yesterday
and let us wade in that river. amen.
a note on homesickness
Maria Dash Feb 21
Isn’t it funny how the earth rotates
But there she is, standing still

A different city, every thing is strange,
But there, she is free

Oh but is it pretty, is it colder, does it feel like home?

Will you come back? Do you miss the place you’ve always known?
Raven Feb 15
Lonely, I am so lonely
I feel like you're leaving me behind
I never knew I could feel so strongly
But it seems you do not mind

I want to hug you, never leave you
But I guess now it will end
It doesn't matter how much of this is true
All this time, it is spent

I have to say my goodbyes
When it gets dark you can hear my cries
I miss your arms, I miss your smell
I miss your touch and how it felt
Najla Dec 2019
I’m accompanied
by two tonight,
agony and her
beloved insomnia

Nothing lives inside
me any longer  
Perhaps I orphaned
this heart of mine,
when I didn’t listen
to its desperate cries
in need for a shelter

Cursed with homesickness,  
an abysmal void grew within me
that’s where I found refuge
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