(originally written July 2008)
.
When the dust finally unsettled,
When my unwritten epilogues
started into staring competitions
with my unstated intentions
I must have bottomed out the bell curve
back paddling,
It was time to go.
So with passport stamped out fires
I wasted whole oceans away
just watching
sunsets over seas of water-course-language
and I swore
I could lose myself
under those horizon lines
that could never be taken back
was never going to again get,
Home.
Once lost amongst all the baggage
somewhere in the unpacking
of these poor metaphors
by the time my voice was found
it was already time to move on,
It was always time to move on.
Back in Morocco
we never made it to Casablanca
I ran right out of time
so we never really had Paris either
but it sounded good
it could
be the beginning
of a beautiful friendship
again
and again
and again.
Saw so many places, faces
woke to so many unfamiliar ceilings
was going ahead at these break neck speeds
and like Rick said
I stick my neck out for nobody.
So I started to see road signs
that point nowhere
or snaked back in on themselves
in this tautological limp
back to... where I came from.
It’s the eternal return,
making a comeback
see,
it ain’t where you’re from
it’s where you’re at
is where I’m at
So
hello everyone,
I’m back.
There’s no place like home
there’s no place like home
now
there’s no place that
feels
like home.
So I need reminding,
with some directions at hand
infact
that,
I am home.
That,
I am home.
_____________________________
Recently dusted this off for a reading called 'Poems from Home", thinking this would be an interesting take on that.
-Peace
.
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