You Can Never Go Home

Landscape from planeIn the country where my tongue

should feel limber,

my mind goes slurry.

I hear the gasps between words,

feel the teeth in the smiles.


In the land of sensuous beauty,

I spy abandon, breathe in decay.

I opt for potholes while above

a sky of such wonder

casts up its blue tablecloth of hospitality,

flecked with golden smudges.

A generous hostess.

I groan in over-fed wantonness.


potholesIn the soft arms of my mother land

I detect only flab.

Since when did cynicism poison my well and render

my cattle so sick?

How did love grow so shallow that mere breezes

can topple the ship of my faith?


I don’t believe  they care much about my grimace,

or ruefully take in my artful sneers.

They live each day anew, alight

in flames I can no longer name.

I shiver unburnt.

And in the thirst

for life of my people I am humbled

out of the girth of my own navel.

16 thoughts on “You Can Never Go Home”

  1. Marina Sofia – I think being away really does give one a different view of one’s own country. On the one hand, one is part of the language and culture. On the other, one’s a stranger in an odd way. You capture that very effectively here.

  2. Your imagery is beautiful, and it captures the feelings of familiarity and strangeness perfectly.

  3. dang felt poem…the pain and frustration…it is hard, esp if you go away for a bit and come back hoping things have not changed but they have….being away i think allows us to see w fresh eyes….

  4. Marina Sofia – how true these sentiments are. After many years of being away from my home country, I was able to go visit. I should feel completely at home and I was, but still, there were things that were new and unknown to me and things – not new, that made me uncomfortable.

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