Saturday, October 25, 2014

October 25, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/The Scene was a Hospital Room in June -- dVerse/A Homecoming to One’s Self

The Scene was a Hospital Room in June

the scene was set                                                                    apocalyptic feeling

                                    dead serious                         not frivolous                          

strange inklings                                                       of what
the week would bring

gnarled roots                                                                                      held us 

audible words                        not needed

count them                                                                 thirteen poppies...

                                                                                                           thirteen poems

the week                                  like a dream                            seemed speedy                
all passed in a flash

                  it would not turn out well

                                                                                          epilogue blue


A  Homecoming to One’s Self

where is homecoming                      when you have no home to come to

the old family home                                                  where you grew up belongs

 to someone else now

other homes                                      where you lived for a little while
                                                                        aren’t your home either

and now the place you hang your hat                    the place you call home

is the place you come home to everyday

maybe when it happens everyday                         it’s not so special....or maybe it is

                                                            but we take it for        granted

all the old folks are gone now                                  maybe a problem of getting old 

homecomeing is                                returning to yourself alone

October 25, 2014

October 25, 2014



Jae Rose said...

How effortlessly this reads...and describes the epilogue blue...i would imagine you have replayed the scene many it comes out to us so very clear..and dignified...although such a terrible loss x (I am liking how you are formatting your words at the moment)

Claudia said...

our world is so fast-paced nowadays - people move so often that they don't have time to grow roots
it's tough when we lose family and friends and having those place of home in ourselves maybe makes it a bit easier....

Björn Rudberg said...

To stay at one place.. that sounds like a dream in a way.. maybe that will only happen when I'm withered and cannot grow any longer.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I love "epilogue blue" and, in the second poem, the return to self, the looking back at homes long gone, the scattering over the years. This year the family will not have a homecoming, too much has changed in the place where we once gathered. I am looking at myself wondering where and what xmas will be for just me. Wow, how things change.

ds said...

These whirl like falling leaves. I found I could read them (the second, especially) each as two different poems in one. Really well done, annell, and true, I think. Thank you.

Glenn Buttkus said...

for the first time in years, all the children & grandchildren will come to our home for Christmas; a time of celebration, of familial bonding, yet there is the never ending rivalry too, the soap opera, the circus acts, the pettiness of prides splayed on dinner tables, on old couches, on guest beds; part of being human & imperfect, of course, as we watch the grandchildren carefully, hoping they will find their own way without some to the tragedies we have weathered.

rudyan said...

homecoming is returning to yourself alone... i think it has to come to that sooner or later for all of us, if we live long enough - a striking line

and in the first poem, very effective, the writing and the way you've laid out the lines... deeply unsettling, as such scenes can't help being

Myrna R. said...

I appreciate how you share the unraveling of you grief Annell. Your first poem relives that horrible week and touches the heart of the reader.
Your second poem is sad too. Yes, I think homecoming is a return to self.

Mary said...

I do agree that homecoming is returning to yourself alone. So much of what we knew as 'home' in the past is now gone. We do have to find our own peace with that.

Kate Mia said...

Yes.. i think 'homecoming is retiring to oneself alone'.. and finding someone there.. of comfort one knows.. and lives with as friend.. and even one's own true parent.. and friend.. who always cares.. a comfort.. no one can take away.. not even time...

And a place for so long i did no know..

exists in me.. So it is good to be home.. and even better to visit other homes..

as well..:)

Brian Miller said...

where you grew up belongs to someone else...sadly true....our roots seem much more shallow these days....i walked into my grammas old house...only to find that someone else lived there...ha...home is in many ways the people...but places hold power as well...

Sharon Rose Thomas said...

As far as missing all those we have held hands with as they leave this realm. That missing never fades, it becomes easier to carry. Honest that is all. Wish I had written more at the time! I dove into works. Very well expressed in your write. Well Done and Good Luck on your respite.

Marina Sofia said...

Two very moving poems - and as someone with shallow roots myself, I can relate to this.

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

There is such power--and overwhelming sadness--in your final line: "epilogue blue."

Whirling Haiku