Home Poems
Exposure
by Wilfred Owen
I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
Disabled
by Wilfred Owen
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
......
A Red Palm
by Gary Soto
You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.
That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair
......
Fern Hill
by Dylan Thomas
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
......
Dejection: An Ode
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms ;
And I fear, I fear, My Master dear !
We shall have a deadly storm.
Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence
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I
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I Miss Home
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
I miss the smell of baking bread
I miss home
The scent filled the whole house
As my Mum makes it
I miss the scent of freahly cut grass
How it made me sneeze
And get struck with blazes left over on my shoes
From the mowing from my nephew
Why did I leave?
The restlessness of the quiet town I lived
......
De zachte G (Ode aan het Limburgse dialect)
by Mario Odekerken
In het zuiden van het land
spreekt men anders.
Niet harder,niet luider,
maar zachter.
Alsof de woorden zelf
nog even willen blijven hangen
in de lucht.
De G is geen klap
maar een zucht,
......
Father's Gun Hanging at the Door.
by C Duggan
My father's gun hung on the door,
at first menacing, then necessary.
That gun kept out the wolves,
the bears,
and the wind howling.
The gun kept out the cold,
my mother no longer shivered,
and my father no longer took watch.
The stars no longer stared,
and the moon no longer seemed like a dream.
......
Through the Woods
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Strawberry red skies
when home beckons through sage woods
Pink love's going down
as dewdrops on purple rose
prior to the velvet close
Flowers follow me
their fantasy fragrances
recalling burnt gold
Beauty's dying once again
......
86. Trying
by Kea Campbell
Stumbling through the door at 1 a.m., not drunk, just sleepless's bite.
My house is clouded with fog, and I return at the latest times of night.
I long for peace, careful not to make eye contact with Death.
I cry for the coach to save me from my straits, while I rise and pine to the scant love for life that's left.
The air thickens, and tensions cut my wrists.
My days expand, and I sleep without rest.
The world weighs on my chest, with past wars documented on my flesh.
Disordered mentality is cinched around my neck, but the stool I stand on is breaded with red.
......
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Robert Louis Stevenson (31 poems about Home)
November 13, 1850 / Edinburgh, Scotland - December 3, 1894 / Vailima, Samoa -
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