If I made this a Book would anyone else ever understand what I said?
"Coming... Home."
I always wonder what it must be like to come ... home.
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I thought of putting memories here - but what ARE the memories one has of what it MEANS to come... home? What IS home - and what isn't? What are the realities and what are the wishes-it-were dreams we make up all our lives behind-our-eyes?
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I love Halloween... the kids and all the costumes. Parents shuffling the herds - door-to-porch-to-steps-to-door. Crowds, groups running back and forth - seemingly endless patterns of excitement. I remember apartment buildings - tenements... dark scary halls - strange and sometimes foul odors, party music blaring and thumping... I remember all the candies I never had otherwise. Going door-to-door in areas I would never have visited... places I didn't even dream of living in. Places I did live in - that were taken away... I remember standing at my different doors and having to give my "loot" away because we didn't have anything else to give the trick-or-treaters.
I learned to give the things I "liked" because it MEANS more to give something you WANT yourself. Maybe the ones you give it to (whatever the "it" was) will understand... and maybe they will like it so much they will keep it... can keep it.
Life is always perceptions - ya know?
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Isn't it amazing how "life" just happens around us... and suddenly we "see" moments - differently?
While we live them moments aren't distractions its we - that distract, from them.
We take away - our childhood - our wonder - our heart
- our hopes, dreams, wish-they-weres... our-very-selves 'til we stare at the sunsets wondering where it all went where IT was all lost - used up, ...forgotten.
I always wonder what it must be like to come ... home.
I don't think we ever truly come home. We grow older, our perception of the world changes and all we are left with are memories and moments in time. Sometimes that is enough, you know?
You've created a NOVEL OF NONFICTION, that creative story that makes a stab at explaining the needs and wants between the lines of that spill on the pages. Slapping the covers together to keep in the hope that their really is a place called HOME. I have read your words and the tears fell from the same broken heart that you have acknowledged. I have come to the conclusion that HOME happens in a million different places at a million different times, like the dust motes in a ray of sunshine and when the experience, with luck, is caught, it provides a GOOD that allows that GUT FEELING in the stomach to settle for a while.
I could pick your writing out from everybody elses' all the time. It GRABS and HOLDS ON.
Thanks for another good ponder.
Home is where your heart is, and you should make WC your poetic home :) And the place where your liver is that i call the bar :) great write, made me remember the halloween's of years gone by, and brought me joy!
Life is perceptions .... I have come to realize that just lately.... have been experiencing a deep & profound personal evolution... suddenly I understand with so much clarity...
the closest thing i know to 'coming home' is having grandchildren...and we did okay with Halloween until we ran out of candy, and the great 'she' of my life started passing out my 'Nut Goodie' stash...lights out, door shut, guard dogs patrolling the grounds
Your words bring back .. .. And tears fall for then .. the what was, and the what should-have- beens .. I always had Halloween candy .. but the nights that followed were more hellish and scary than the costumes kids wore .. And parents wore mask that frightened me, every day, and night, and season .. I don't want to go Home, not to that Home .. .. Home is where the heart is, they say .. Where do the heartless live .. In hell I think .. .. So many little lambs without a Home .. or any place, to call .. LOVED
I hear you .. ( If this was a book, I would understand) Jazzy
John Lennon said that "life is what happens when you're busy making other plans". people are forgetting more and more to actually live their lives, to open wide their hearts to everything that goes around them. home is where the heart is. but too many people don't get that.
This was a wonderful thought you had here. Loved it as usual
Loved the intro and yes of course the poem.
While we live them
moments aren't distractions
its we - that distract, from them.
"Life is a terminal disease." All the doctors have basically told me so.
"Life is an adventure... Pain, well you deal. Thanks for being here. 06/21/2020
I'm back and working on. I've been.. more..