Poems about Home
#home
Poems about home and the meaning of feeling at home. Poetry about the happiness and comfort of a loving home life, and the people and family who fill a home with love. Also poems about feeling at home in a specific lifestyle or place in the world. Here you'll also find poetry about people struggling to find a place in society and experiencing the difficulties of coming from a broken home.
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
Yesterday 5:47am
Yesterday 5:47am
Villages
She came from St Andrew,
near the A road,
spun a red Jimny,
white walls of snow,
one checked out Winter
smoked Fortuna,
worked a bar on Saturdays,
beside a shop called Saturdays,
opposite a club
filled with spirits
who know it all,
hankered for an anklet
the colour of your lies,
a crystal prism,
for a mache desk,
made with every curve of you,
said she'd go to London,
grow, forget it,
fail, come home,
find you greyer,
bring you down,
screw through thirties,
there was no need ...
near the A road,
spun a red Jimny,
white walls of snow,
one checked out Winter
smoked Fortuna,
worked a bar on Saturdays,
beside a shop called Saturdays,
opposite a club
filled with spirits
who know it all,
hankered for an anklet
the colour of your lies,
a crystal prism,
for a mache desk,
made with every curve of you,
said she'd go to London,
grow, forget it,
fail, come home,
find you greyer,
bring you down,
screw through thirties,
there was no need ...
#love
#romantic
#home
20 reads
2 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
14th Sep 2021 10:58am
14th Sep 2021 10:58am
Mothering
This morning you're discussing vomit,
whether we can sit at home today.
You, me, a bucket, medicine,
and delicate, porcelain cardinals.
We discuss a plan. I have work,
often ponder whether the job
has robbed years from you,
no parent gets it right.
You alight at the idea of plastic oblongs.
I sing a song of the blues.
We dress in separate rooms,
tombs of our fate.
One day we'll stay home, I'll be weaker.
You'll speak of friends and cars and bills,
it'll go straight through me
but I suppose...
whether we can sit at home today.
You, me, a bucket, medicine,
and delicate, porcelain cardinals.
We discuss a plan. I have work,
often ponder whether the job
has robbed years from you,
no parent gets it right.
You alight at the idea of plastic oblongs.
I sing a song of the blues.
We dress in separate rooms,
tombs of our fate.
One day we'll stay home, I'll be weaker.
You'll speak of friends and cars and bills,
it'll go straight through me
but I suppose...
#home
11 reads
1 Comment
Scarlett_Midwinter
Poem Published
11th Sep 2021 1:45pm
11th Sep 2021 1:45pm
House of Flowers
Greeted by snow white lilacs
And a sea of blooming roses
Crescendo of blushing pink
To delight both eyes and noses
An avalanche of daisies
Spread out with ease
Like a cloth to host
Summer feasts of bees
Fiddleheads sign the ground
Calligraphy of cursive green
Forget-me-nots spring all 'round
Quiet cerulean serendipity
And waiting inside this peaceful Arden
A second garden within a garden
Where Monet's poppies all bloom...
And a sea of blooming roses
Crescendo of blushing pink
To delight both eyes and noses
An avalanche of daisies
Spread out with ease
Like a cloth to host
Summer feasts of bees
Fiddleheads sign the ground
Calligraphy of cursive green
Forget-me-nots spring all 'round
Quiet cerulean serendipity
And waiting inside this peaceful Arden
A second garden within a garden
Where Monet's poppies all bloom...
#childhood
#home
#countryside
#flowers
#memories
13 reads
1 Comment
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
5th Sep 2021 11:00am
5th Sep 2021 11:00am
Window S21. 5
I wonder if the time
for window fixing has closed,
frame twice removed,
toothed edges letting in air,
street noise, people knowing our names, happenings, much as a 65 pence newspaper
knows facts. You whistle
on the number 63.
I make two cups of tea,
hear about how well you are,
contemplate changing houses
rather than fixing windows,
probably should have done it
a long time ago.
for window fixing has closed,
frame twice removed,
toothed edges letting in air,
street noise, people knowing our names, happenings, much as a 65 pence newspaper
knows facts. You whistle
on the number 63.
I make two cups of tea,
hear about how well you are,
contemplate changing houses
rather than fixing windows,
probably should have done it
a long time ago.
#home
28 reads
1 Comment
Green_Arrow
Poem Published
31st Aug 2021 12:12pm
31st Aug 2021 12:12pm
Three Couch Potatoes Sat In Front Of My TV
You're not going to believe this but
I went into the kitchen to
get something to drink and when
I came back out, these three
couch potatoes sat
in front of my
TV and
watched dumb
sports!
I went into the kitchen to
get something to drink and when
I came back out, these three
couch potatoes sat
in front of my
TV and
watched dumb
sports!
#home
#honesty
#humankind
#dialogue
#nostalgia
23 reads
0 Comments
Koulouri
Poem Published
23rd Aug 2021 1:33pm
23rd Aug 2021 1:33pm
The stories on my desk
Starring at my messy desk, covered in movies, Easter jelly beans, a bent up fork , medicines, a bowl from a about week ago, a can of unopened soup, a dusty mirror, my cats old collar, a wooden pose doll, 3 electric candles, an old camera, 2 cups full of pencils, an open unused mini sketch pad, a brick of glass with a cat photo attached, a broken glass heart, a library card, and a box I can’t open.
Why did I tell you all that?
Because no one else can.
Each item on my desk is there because it has a story.
After all, that’s why I have them.
The How to train your...
Why did I tell you all that?
Because no one else can.
Each item on my desk is there because it has a story.
After all, that’s why I have them.
The How to train your...
#home
25 reads
2 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
16th Aug 2021 3:24pm
16th Aug 2021 3:24pm
No. 17
I heard your low tide 'fore saw it,
aching greyscale, overharvest,
oceans of Summer, scattered hens,
Lucifer languishing in flo'rbeds.
Smoke plumes swamping spearmint,
no lapping those without thorns,
and sometimes, honey, we'll talk
over berberis - your face just a feeling.
You'll warn close to leaving, down river
felt unholy not to say
how Holly and Damsons would miss you,
how'd I'd wander lone to top of the hill,
sing with corvids in ceilingless chorus,
oceans of Summer recoiling the soil, ...
aching greyscale, overharvest,
oceans of Summer, scattered hens,
Lucifer languishing in flo'rbeds.
Smoke plumes swamping spearmint,
no lapping those without thorns,
and sometimes, honey, we'll talk
over berberis - your face just a feeling.
You'll warn close to leaving, down river
felt unholy not to say
how Holly and Damsons would miss you,
how'd I'd wander lone to top of the hill,
sing with corvids in ceilingless chorus,
oceans of Summer recoiling the soil, ...
#home
48 reads
0 Comments
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
The Gardener
Poem Published
9th Aug 2021 7:39pm
9th Aug 2021 7:39pm
Tinker
In ginger hue, stomach pressed above the train tracks, dangling over a bridge as a thunder cloud, I saw you galloping along the line, steaming all over, a beauty. I thought of who designed you, what time you had left and when you'd arrive, whether the driver had always wanted to be one and whether they'd worked two or three years or most of their lives. I walked home whistling, post watching you glide away, left a pot of tea to brew in an Earl Grey coloured sitting room and waited for the guest to arrive.
Dusk plodded in before a knock at the door, spring sheet rain lingering on ear, a...
Dusk plodded in before a knock at the door, spring sheet rain lingering on ear, a...
#grief
#home
41 reads
1 Comment
JohnnyBlaze
Poem Published
4th Aug 2021 4:03pm
4th Aug 2021 4:03pm
House of a Thousand Doors
Of the many rooms
under this mansion's roof
you find yourself in
investigating
. cleaning
. . decorating
. . . furnishing
. . . . demolishing
. . . . . running plain scared from
haunting
each leads to hallway
or staircase that proposes
more rooms upon rooms
upon . . .
but retracing your steps
is possible only in theory
for nothing in this world
ever remains static
Houses are no exception
---alive, growing as surely
as they shed dead shingles...
under this mansion's roof
you find yourself in
investigating
. cleaning
. . decorating
. . . furnishing
. . . . demolishing
. . . . . running plain scared from
haunting
each leads to hallway
or staircase that proposes
more rooms upon rooms
upon . . .
but retracing your steps
is possible only in theory
for nothing in this world
ever remains static
Houses are no exception
---alive, growing as surely
as they shed dead shingles...
#home
#spiritual
#scary
#StephenKing
#fear
48 reads
12 Comments
SatInUGal
Kumar
Kumar
Poem Published
3rd Aug 2021 4:17pm
3rd Aug 2021 4:17pm
HER FLAT
She invites me
To come inside
Her flat
On her back
Eyes wide
Mouth agape
To come inside
Her flat
On her back
Eyes wide
Mouth agape
#home
#orgasm
66 reads
2 Comments
cloventongue89
Poem Published
1st Aug 2021 6:20am
1st Aug 2021 6:20am
Dreaming Reality
What is love but the crossroads?
Where fate meets destiny
As we die to be reborn
In the falling of our choosing
We take flight as we remake home
From broken origins
We piece together
From the fractures of a former life
A masterpiece forged
Second chances to get it right
Prearranged of our divine recourse
Despite the turbulence
We are without remorse
Taking off against the current
We find our lift as we rise against the wind
Former suitors, counterfeit of heart
Obstacles of empty lover's...
Where fate meets destiny
As we die to be reborn
In the falling of our choosing
We take flight as we remake home
From broken origins
We piece together
From the fractures of a former life
A masterpiece forged
Second chances to get it right
Prearranged of our divine recourse
Despite the turbulence
We are without remorse
Taking off against the current
We find our lift as we rise against the wind
Former suitors, counterfeit of heart
Obstacles of empty lover's...
#love
#home
#TruthOfLife
#honesty
#philosophical
49 reads
2 Comments
eswaller
Poem Published
24th Jul 2021 11:29pm
24th Jul 2021 11:29pm
More Than Strangers
Maybe this is all just a nightmare,
On repeat, but I cannot help it
With the way he always stares
At me like he knows we fit
So perfectly together. Maybe
We knew each other from some
Other life, but in this one he
Is some stranger with his thumb
On the control button. We both
Admit to having chemistry no one
Could understand. I made an oath
And an absolute promise to never run
Away from all the feelings I would
Always keep bottled up. Maybe in
This life he knows what we could
Have had and the road we have been ...
On repeat, but I cannot help it
With the way he always stares
At me like he knows we fit
So perfectly together. Maybe
We knew each other from some
Other life, but in this one he
Is some stranger with his thumb
On the control button. We both
Admit to having chemistry no one
Could understand. I made an oath
And an absolute promise to never run
Away from all the feelings I would
Always keep bottled up. Maybe in
This life he knows what we could
Have had and the road we have been ...
#LifeStruggles
#home
45 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Home
