Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lavina Akari Apr 2016
I've stayed in a lot of houses in my life, none of which I ever intended to stay for long.
Most of them open easily - there are no locks
just welcoming hosts, always with that same perfidious smile on their face.
They expect me to fall at their feet but they don't know yet that
I am the drug and they are the addict and when they whip up a whirlwind to drag me in I show them how much of a ******* hurricane I really am.
You see, I jump door to door
because my own house is haunted.
maybe once it was a home, but it is now unrecognisable.
All with locks and the windows are sealed shut, it's filled from basement to attic with ghosts who are mourning their losses and grudging their mistakes.

I don't know whether I'm locked in or locked out, and I can't tell you which is worse.
Beau Scorgie Apr 2016
So steady. So stable.
So grounded.

Patience matched by none.
Especially not me.




Air and water -
births francium hearts.

Eyes of blue -
ever nubivagant.




White picket fence -
of your smile.

At home among the trees.
The forests in your eyes.




Waxing gibbous perpetuating -
bleeding roses.

A tsunami of womanhood.
Savage oscillation.




My darling obelisk.
Unwavering strength.

A waltz of hearts
to guide me home.
Eriko Mar 2016
I’m so homesick. I miss the sound of the language, the feel of it…I miss the adventure, the beauty, the kindness, the presence of belonging. I miss long city walks at night, when the skyscrapers could be seen for miles and throw lights on the pavement. I miss the subway, the simplicity of walking from one place to another and watching the city whip past me as I stand, humming quietly as the rail tracks bump underneath my feet. I miss the feel of the language reverberate on my tongue and hear it chiming in my ears. I miss the generosity and rich culture. I miss the humility and simplicity; the ambition and indisputable threshold for righteousness. I miss the strength, the willingness of an ear, patience of an oak tree and the composure of respect. I miss the jagged horizons of mountains loom with calming familiarity with spectacular array of greens; and I miss the way the sky flower into a spectacular shade of pink at the break of dawn, speckled with yellow and deep orange. I miss gazing at the ocean, admiring the restlessness and salty wilderness I find inexplicable. I haven’t seen the sea in over a year…I used to see it almost everyday. I miss the delicacies, the delicious combination of rice, fish, vegetables, and more. I miss the mesmerizing subtleties in the culture, in the system and way of life which proves to be far from perfect, yet which is one I belong in. I miss Japan…Tokyo, Yokohama, Iwakuni, Aomori, Hokkaido, everywhere. I miss my home.
Please just take me back
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
To foreign lands I want to roam
Where Kings and Queens sit upon their throne
And big cats prowl, and wild dogs howl
And there's every kind of fowl
Where mighty elephants trumpet
And with tea they serve crumpets
I want to see the very old creations of man
I know I'd be their biggest fan
To walk the ground that Jesus tread
And feed the masses with seven loaves of bread
I would love to see the foreign sands
To get homesick and return to my home land
Bianca Reyes Mar 2016
I feel so homeless in you
Building fires in the cold for two
You are so homesick in me
Home is where the heart is you see
©A Home by Bianca Reyes
Shared on Hello Poetry on March 4, 2016
All rights reserved

Blah blah blah
Enjoy!
Summer Feb 2016
I like the clouds
that make the skies look as
they have mountains
It reminds me of the good times
of the rain
and the pine trees
and the creeks that echoed the sounds
of love.
there is a happy place that exists for me
somewhere.
but the pine scented air fresheners
do not bring me the same comfort.
the postcards sent from family members
with my name written neatly on them,
do not make me feel as they did before.
I long for my happy place
that does not need my name written on it,
for me to know I belong there.
now the sky is entirely gray
and it does not look like there are mountains.-
The mornings give me the meaning I long for.
And the mundane tasks of the noon
remind me of insignificance.
but I still do not wake up earlier-
what’s the point
of pretending i am where i am supposed to be,
when a few hours later,
i will be reminded i am still homesick?
Josh Jan 2016
I forgot to look at the sky,
bright, cold blue with shreds of white hanging
above and beyond the grey city
whose tall, misty pillars of different shapes and sizes stand
full of people who are full of frowns.
Who,
like me,
probably forget to look at the sky.

In the foreground, ***** trees sprawl low and wide and leafless in the winter chill.
Dark roots curled under the wet grass of the hill which holds me and you

I feel lost and perhaps a little homesick.
This isn't my city.
The buildings aren't mine and the trees aren't mine
but a little part of the sky is mine
as I breathe it in
and out
and it refreshes my skin.

I don't realise what I have
ramblings
Lark Train Jan 2016
If I died tonight
Alone
Away
Without the one who stayed.
If I live tonight
Popular
Partying
I would never be the same.
I won't live
For another's sake.
Tonight's the night
My heart shall break.
Being homesick in your own house *****.
This is a follow-up to The End of Senior Year, a few weeks later, and from a different point of view.
She still sleeps in your clothes because they feel like home even when your arms are home to someone else now
Next page