‘There’s No Place Like Home’
‘There’s no place like home’
Said Judy Garland
Talking so fondly about her motherland
But me, I don’t have a place
Where I know all the neighbourhood kids’ faces
There’s no one town that makes me nostalgic
My home is not a location, it’s a feeling that’s magic
That’s how people think of me often
I don’t feel upset
Because I’m already heading off to another place I haven’t met
Like a jet-setter
Except less glamorous, and I don’t find pleasure
In luxury and disappearing money
Memory is my currency
I grew up in a sandy country
Sand, grains, in my hair
Dry little desert bushes, shaking in the air
Now I’m here with the garden birds
Grey clouds swirling
Unmerciful winter emerging
I wish I was home, but there’s no such place
I might as well be from outer space
I come from a place where being judged is a staple in society
Growing up with an opinion is laughed at and beaten down.
Showing any bit of personality and voice is snickered at.
Confessing feelings is mocked
And feeling motivated in school makes people shocked.
Friends say they are there for you but opening up pushes people away from you
Feeling as if your friends judge you how they think other people would judge you.
Being realistic becomes a chore
Everything becomes comedy opening up becomes a chore.
All I ask is for people to be more self assured
And to let other voices be heard.
We live in this PC culture,
Where we fuel the fire and we feed the vultures,
Where feed off others fail,
Where our thoughts and experiences are online for sale,
We live in this social media world, where everything’s a snap or a tweet,
Where there’s online profiles for everyone on the street,
Where everyone has a different personality online,
Where people value their phones more than they value their time,
We are all trapped in this cell they call a phone
The body she once embraced is now the same body that she thinks of as a disgrace,
A thing to be ashamed of, to hide away and it’s her fault, so she takes the blame.
She looks in the mirror, faint and frail but says to herself, just do it for the scale,
Wearing winter clothes in summer weather all because she’s not as light as a feather.
Not a Single Wheel Would Turn
Write a collection of meaningless phrases,
On paper, receive approving nods, and fall asleep,
For 40 years, collect pay checks in quite desperation,
Dreaming of cocktails through bank front windows, and maybe,
A better place, free from this future vision,
That may not even exist, for many of us but,
We can’t let those of us for which it does,
America is a good country.
It has people from all over.
Who all live together,
Eat together and
America has a great culture.
Hard work and patriotism,
Pride for your country and heritage,
Freedom for all,
Kindness and friendship for everyone
America is a melting pot.
Think of it like this;
You’re an onion and are tossed into a pot.
There are carrots, potatoes, chicken and beef around you.
You all sit in the same soup broth.
Everyone is different but they all come together to make a great soup,
Of values everyone agrees on and ideals they all share,
While still staying unique, different and never losing their heritage and culture.
As the cultures simmer though,
Some aspects melt and blend together.
Different people meet, marry and have kids,
Many heritages combine.
America is powerful.
When they joined in World War 1,
They turned the tide of battle.
Fresh soldiers aided the exhausted Allies.
In World War 2,
They fought in D-Day;
It was very bloody and hundreds died,
But the Americans still took Omaha Beach.
They fought against and crushed brutal Japan.
America is a great country of many ideals;
They strive for adventure,
Have compassion for others,
Love to discover and learn,
Adore and celebrate their freedom,
Honor their heritage of all types,
Value their independence and individualism,
Pioneer for knowledge and innovation,
And aim for self-reliance to move on to tomorrow.
Sitting on my Chair
I’m sitting on my chair, looking outside the window,
With a zoom call on my phone and a cup of tea on table,
I look outside the window, look at birds flying around,
So free and so powerful, while I sit inside for hours.
Always wondered what it feels like, be a freestyle, powerful seagull
What it feels to be there, in the sky for years, for ages
But for now I’m still here, sitting in my comfy chair,
With a zoom call on my phone and a cup of tea on table
I was just a young boy so was he
Sure he was my homeboy the best there could be
I was not strong enough but I was smart enough
And so was he
But in the world it’s kill or be killed and now it’s just me
It was many years ago but it feels just like yesterday night
Where I looked out my window seeing the fire trucks
and ambulances hitting 90 and taking flight
I was just a young boy and so was he
So when I heard he passed I cried broke down and fell to my knees
Sure he was my homeboy best there could be
But now he’s in heaven looking down on his family his friends maybe even me.
It’s so quiet
Something is going to go wrong
I’m constantly having to fight with myself
One friend, two friends, now long gone
I’m sorry for pushing you away
Please, come back
It’s so quiet.
I’ve made many tries,
But this just won’t deliver,
So I am changing my poem so that the internet gods can help me send,
A new poem made to boost my internet,
This better work as I have done made this three times,
And if this does send I will hear the bells chimes,
This poem is quite the mess
But at least I tried my best.