Homeless


Today, taking a leaf from Elhillo’s work, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem of origin. Where are you from? Not just geographically, but emotionally, physically, spiritually? And having come from there, where are you now?

Homeless

My clothes are all wrong

I had tried to dress the

traditional way

but the way I carry them

makes me stand out

the syllables that roll off my tongue

though similar to theirs

even to my own ears

have an alien accent

the sights, the sounds

which I imagined

had pulled me all these years

leave me strangely uncomfortable

my crinkling of nose

and exasperated sighs

though smothered

are frowned upon

the whispering behind my back

is hard to miss

I smile awkwardly

gulping the too sweet tea hastily

longing to be home

but home is not home

all these years that

I have spent here

have been an outsider,

standing on the periphery

never belonging

tethered to the memories

of my roots and now

I stand exposed

floating in a limbo

not sure where home is.

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46 thoughts on “Homeless

      1. Yes, people can be cold, Paul. But most of them are not even aware how their behaviour affects others. The place where I am living now is my home whether I like it or not. So most days I am grateful for things thst work for me.

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    1. Ah! The place where I grew up is so different now. The place from where my family is, I don’t feel comfortable there, the city I am living in is impersonal … I guess it is home but not where my heart is. Well, I am glad what I feel, came through. Hugs are always welcome. Thank you so much, dear. 🤗❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  1. well done, one can not just picture it but almost feel this poem. The feeling of being out of place where you imagined your roots were, and the too sweet tea 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I was born and brought up in a small city in maharashtra.After marriage I stayed in a capital city and now too I am in a capital city In USA.But I never felt the warmth I feel when I think abt my hometown. It was a small and underdeveloped city but it was my home.Also after marriage a husband’s house is considered your home,but I always felt like a stranger there too .It was always like it’s their home and I am a visitor.So now I became my own home.I carry myself with me everywhere and feel happy.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. many proverbs and sayings about home come to mind but where really is home? i think i have broached this question in my writing many times, longing for home, coming home and yes like yours not feeling i fit in, a stranger in our own skin, made aware of our differences through that language and custom, you lifted the poem high Punam.

    Liked by 1 person

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