Home

I think the general pattern of this blog is going to be: one post poem, one post opinion. Slightly random, but ah well.

So after having a browse through wordpress and really trying to get to grips with the whole process, I stumbled across a great blog by ‘tominalbion’ about his musings about coming from England and moving to the US and how things are so different for him. This really got me thinking about my own movement through the UK and how far I have travelled within the past year and a half and it is pretty hard hitting. Moving from a little industrial town in East Lancashire, down to Falmouth, Cornwall for University and my parents moving to Inverness, Scotland really has impacted my life dramatically. Movement and fluidity really does make you question were you ‘belong’ and were home really is. Is it your current inhabitance? Is is were you have lived the longest? Or is it truly where the heart it? Space only becomes a place through your lived social experiences of it, so how exactly do you make a new place, home? Or how do you forget your old home and move on? So this is a poem I wrote to kind of reflect this. Hope you enjoy 🙂

Home 

They say home is where the heart is,

but how can that possibly be so?

When a heart is divided into a trio of lands

that pervade my dreams and

make their lucid demands.

If home is where the heart is,

then mine is surely lost;

wandering streets of torn up means;

below the surface, or away with the bees.

They say home is where the heart is,

but words are just a medium,

a medium indispensable,

a medium incomprehensible,

to the smallest of minds and to the giants of time.

I am a wanderer, yet,

I am most definitely lost.

Lost in time,

Lost in space,

Lost in every atom in every microcosm.

Home is where the heart is? So where exactly is that?

Hat tip,

ALR x