Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Sense of Home

You broke through
The walls I’ve built,
Smashed them down,
With fists laced in guilt, allowing
Only silhouettes their rightful place in line

You pushed me away to far withdrawn
After hearing you sing your lonely song
Yet I’d be tethered back to you
But only after you heard me aligning
With some other’s sad refrain

shower in, upon me now
shower down, drench me here
with your light, wash away
my every sense of fear

You took my tears,
You took them all, vialed
Each and capped their lids,
Forever keeping me near,
holding my desires ever closer still

You closed these eyes,
White circles dyed brown,
You closed these lids,
Lest I should frown, seeing
Clearly, all the world’s disturbances

shower in, upon me now
shower down, drench me here
with your light ,wash away
my every sense of fear

But never would you show your face
Always coddling behind those swathing silks,

And never would you speak your name
Only ever speaking through the eyes alone

In which, I’ve finally found a place my own
Therein finding what’s been missing,

That elusive feeling when one wanders stray
That craving urge, the daydreams that steal away
Never fully realized, never truly honed
Until one returns, forever,
to that loving sense of home.

Shared with the great poets over at D'Verse.  OLN is in full effect, stop on by for the best poetry on the internet.  While you're there, share a poem of your own.  We'd all love to read it.  


  1. I like your poem...would probably write more but its late, and I am off to NM in a few hrs...

  2. I would have liked to have walked away from your poem having at least some idea what "home" you are referring to, and who you are talking to. Sorry to say, I was puzzled.

    Just one thought on wording:

    I could not image fists (strong) laced (pretty soft) going together. "lace" is such a common poetry word. Maybe the contrast was intentional.

    1. really sorry you couldn't see what I was going for here. The sense of home should not be mine alone. The sense should be whatever the reader makes for themselves. Yet, I did write the piece so obviously it was grounded in my own thoughts.

      That said, the entire piece is about push/pull connection to contrast that is ever prevalent in almost any relationship, any family. It's never all one thing, one feeling, there are multitudes of levels within any relationship, and family brings with it, this yet also a sense of unrequited love, love that is built into our DNA.

      So the piece starts out with a person who is not looking for salvation for connection. he's built up these defenses that are not healthy yet they are there for his own sanity if you will. Despite this, he wouldn't be in such proximities to allowing for someone to break through his walls if he wasn't deep down desiring of such a connection to establish.

      As for the fists. Yes, strong, it was intended as such, for when one has built up these defensive walls, they are often not just constructed, but have been consistently reinforced and layered throughout the years,s therefore something subtle wouldn't have realistically been able to crack through their defenses. Laced does carry the soft connotation, yet only when you think of it as lace, the noun. This here is the verb, which offers the idea that from this important, powerful person, who has the ability to break down this incredibly strong fortifying defensive wall, it also carries with it, is coated by, containing a sense of guilt. this guilt is not the main construct, that is why laced was chosen as it's more of a passive action verb, but still, it's important because there still is a sense of guilt to go with the smashing of the wall, both on the part of the smasher and the person finding his wall destroyed, thereby throwing him into a world of vulnerability. But back to the softness in the word lace. While obviously now you can see that the noun and the verb carry two completely different meanings here, the fact that you saw the root noun to the verb within it, offers the reemphasis on the contrast between hard and softness, which is why I chose laced as the verb here rather than say attached, or something simlar

      Who I am talking to is really not important. it's the fact that there is someone, some idea/ideal that has brought the feeling about, creating the rise and fall , the call and response, both externally and internally for a return to home. and once again, Home is an open ended construct, as most peoples definitions of what home means to them, differs, yet I've always seen home as something positive, but mixed with many other emotions in between, never again, just one thing involved, always a merger of several positives and negatives working in cohesion to create a well-defined real characterization.

      Well, hopefully this was of some help here. If you've any other questions, please feel free to ask. I also find comments such as this very helpful as it forces me to go back and review the particular piece to see if perhaps I didn't accomplish the initial intent, but even when I did, as is the case for this piece, it allows me the opportunity to clarify for a reader who could've simply walked away without "seeing" the poem as I had arranged it. Thanks again.

  3. With fists laced in guilt...caught me early on...i like where it went, much different than where i thought upon reading that....only ever speaking through the eyes and finding a home touch...

  4. Wandering the path can be quite interesting indeed, all the crap that comes from life and such, as we walk to our own tune. The walls sometimes have to break, I'm just glad they don't do it with an earthquake.

  5. The tone of this poem at the beginning seems much different than the tone at the end. The poem is quite a journey. At the beginning it doesn't sound like a very loving place to be at all...but this all changes at the end, and what was missing was found & one is at a place of one's own and the loving sense of home is returned to. A depthful write, Fred.

  6. hey fred

    always imbued with a sense of the classic:
    i see a travelling troubadour wandering the badlands, homesick but roaming romantic
    and feeling his way in the dark using words
    as torch.

    considering the ghosts on the road,

    cheers bro

  7. this place we call home...where we can feel safe without the walls we build around us to protect the soul.. a layered write fred..smashing the walls sounds rather brutal to me.. that's the part that confuses me a bit..

  8. I feel the ache in your words. This made me sad, and I could feel the tug of power between the two.

  9. I apologize if this comment goes through twice. Was having a bit of trouble. Just wanted to say that I could really feel the ache in your words, and the power struggle here. It left me feeling a bit sad.

  10. Claudia, for some reason blogger's not allowing me to reply directly beneath your comment this time. The violence/brutality of the smashing is there to reinforce how well defined, how layered and strong the wall truly was, where it takes a major strength to break the walls, thusly allowing others in…I could go on more, but that is the gist of the reason, and also I love using contrast, incorporating unexpected imagery, contrasting emotions and incongruence to heighten the sense of the poem itself.

    I recently read that comedy or love themes, are strongest when they are rooted or reinforced by painful or violent subtext. I think I tend to agree to some extent with that, maybe not in the real world, but definitely in the poetic. Thanks again.

  11. Right -- I understand that you wrote the piece "grounded in your own thoughts" and that is why I visit: to taste your thoughts, not to use a poem as a Rorschack test or Tarot reading on my own psychy.

    Instead, Ilearn much about you in your comments to others and your reply here (for example) -- that is what I enjoy -- learning about the other. And I can't do that with your poetry -- probably just my limitation.

    So I love the reply to my comment -- thank you.

    Your description of the complexity of relationship is fantastic -- your prose speak very clearly.

    THanks for the tip on "lace" -- I didn't see the verb part.

    I have smashed through walls three times in my life -- but not in the last 20 years (the Testosterone poisoning has declined) :-)
    I have broken my fist three times (twice on a wall, once on a face).
    People who meet me now would not guess that past.

    So I understand your prose (and felt a little through the poem though it was just disconnected and unclear for me).

    Thank you for kindly letting us know that you enjoy these sorts of comments. And again, thank you for taking time with the fantastic reply.

    You said, "it forces me to go back and review the particular piece to see if perhaps I didn't accomplish the initial intent,"

    I love when poets have intents. And I love poetry that communicates that intent to me. It is too bad poets have no way to check if anyone really understood their intents. Poets can go on and on not communicating like they imagine that are without feedback. It would be cool to build in more feedback on blogs, but many would feel vulnerable that way or discouraged and certainly that would be an undesirable outcome. Delicate balance!