it was home to me (Draft).

i open my hand
have you ever noticed the sound of the train
lagging over the tracks? it’s about midnight,
i hear it—right down the Abenteen road,
and if i paused right here

it’s a place i could consider as good as home;
i can’t remember the last time I was—
no, I won’t finish the thought, wouldn’t want you to know.

Effigies of bird-shit
wavered in his tone—y’know the one,
you know you’re being a fool in his eyes
kind of like that Tom Waits’ song
voice caught, foot on foot plays,
we recognize this not when we’re first in love;
I wouldn’t know, never had one,
I always preferred the voice in the back,
telling me, no good, no good,
and honestly? I preferred it that way.

I’d go away
sure, back to the pair of legs in my bed
a sheet on which I’ll die on

came and went, the outline of my son
[a doe-eyed cat]
I had forgotten he was in my blanket;
his eyes ghost-wide, I watch tenderly
and shit, I can almost believe he knows something about me.
I talk to him in my head sometimes before realizing
I never spoke anything aloud.
[pitiful, but don’t say I enjoyed doing it]
Does he know the small part of me
looking to the window,
reading papers, that I’m just imagining
the new England trance
my family blood is dying in?
It’s ok, I’m not sad about that
because look, I don’t know them
they’re distant; above red
leaves, they crowd me out
of past-to-be and present

I think, instead, about my dad who showed
me a world of sand in his footprints;
the dead-at-last grass when we moved; it’s yellow all over now
near a quiet road;
my mom laughing when I was under the bed [the sound strangely
makes me feel okay]
after stealing too much food from the fridge
[and I would pick up the landline and listen in on phone-calls];
not even fully awake, I heard voices;
getting into a city
with no thread of flowers
to plant your feet on, and into morning air
at a hotel room
remembering that’s what home felt like.

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the MTB 12/16/2021 dVerse prompt as a response to David Whyte’s Blessing for Light and Blessing for Sound poems.


47 thoughts on “it was home to me (Draft).”

  1. I can imagine your story unravelling as you sit with your cat and listen to the noises. What does home feel like when one is in a strange place? I imagine the sounds and routines would be different. This made me think you are on a new journey. Thanks Lucy for sharing your work. Wishing you happy holidays and Happy New Year.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Aww, thank you Grace. Yeah, I guess you can say I’m on a new journey of sorts! 🙂 That’s very introspective and I love how you interpreted this piece. Thank you so much. Have a happy holiday and new year as well!

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  2. Lucy, this reads sad, resigned, yet resilient — yes strong in an important way. Don’t know if any or all is autobiographical, but so engaging and fascinating.
    “no thread of flowers
    to plant your feet on, and into morning air
    at a hotel room
    remembering that’s what home felt like.”
    This part shook me, because for many of the early years of my children’s lives, this is how reality read for me, as I was on the road touring with my band. I hold a pocket of guilt in my gut still, but it was also an incredible part of my life. Conflicting duality. Never fully resolved it, though I moved past.
    Another strong write Lucy. Happiest of holidays to you, and may next year kick ass my friend! 👍🏼🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Rob, thank you so so much! I love how you really nailed those feelings I wrote in this piece (and experienced too); that sadness and resignation. The last part for me was actually a peaceful time in my life; my family and I evacuated to a city in Georgia and were able to find a run-down hotel upon this pretty little turn-about hill. Somehow the path made me nervous when we went back and forth to run errands for those few days, I think it was three days? Something about the town felt nice, felt better than what I knew home as in my home state, and it wasn’t because of my family, it just made me realize that the environment and the city people sort of made me depressed back in my hometown. The atmosphere in GA was refreshing and for those few days, I was actually quite happy.

      Thank you for sharing your experience as well. I cannot imagine it was easy, but that does sound like a very valuable experience to have. I’m glad you were able to move past it, guilt is one of the worst feelings and emotions to experience. Thank you so very much for your kindness and commentary, I’m happy you could resonate with this piece. You gave me a lot to think about with your perspective. ❤ Happy Holidays, Rob! Same to you, let’s kick the shit out of 2022 so that we don’t get a repeat of the past two years, hahaha.

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  3. Incredible, Lucy. Like a soliloquy or stream of consciousness. Adored the different scenes that flickered through my mind with each new breath in the progression of the piece.
    Smooth. Lovely. I especially liked the ending:

    getting into a city
with no thread of flowers
to plant your feet on

    concrete, I imagined. Rough and familiar yet seemingly like it was out of place there. Because right then and in that moment it would help to plant your feet on good old dirt/earth to ground you.
    And I felt sad at the end where you conclude this is what home feels/felt like. tears

    Lovely poem. Adored how much feeling surfaced from it. Thanks for sharing. Happy holidays to you and loved ones, Lucy. Wishing you a bright new year.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Aww, thank you Selma. Your comment warms my heart very much! Ironically, I meant the ending to be happy as it was based off a personal experience where my family and I stumbled upon this quaint little city in Georgia after evacuating from a hurricane years ago. It was just so beautiful, the atmosphere, even though the hotel was beyond run down hahaha. I never felt as happy in my life as I did then.

      No tears, no tears, I will not allow it! 😀 But, really, I’m glad you can resonate with my poem and I always like to see how people view my work. It gives me a different perspective to work with and think about, and I do actually believe the interpretation is more or less left up to the audience. There is no actual interpretation beyond how you see it–just my thoughts there, and while the author does have significance, it’s all part of subjectivity imo.

      Happy holidays to you and yours as well, also wishing you a blessed new year. Man, time moves so fast.

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  4. A beautiful poem Lucy with shades of light and darkness! It’s amazing how much you’ve packed in this poem! Snippets from your personal life, family life and place. And the way, you’ve tackled the concept of home is really moving! The closing line, ‘and into morning air at a hotel room remembering that’s what home felt like.’ is touching!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Dominic! I always appreciate your supportive comments and I love reading what you thought of this little piece. The final stanza is admittedly my favorite, it just brings back some good memories.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Talking to a cat, even in your head, can be cathartic…writing poetry is too. The idea of home is complicated and tinged with some sadness as all families are broken. Thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Lynn! And it really is cathartic, so cathartic that I started talking to my cat aloud these days, hahaha. Families are always going to be dysfunctional and broken in their own ways. Ironically, my ending there was actually happy based on an experience in stumbling upon this quaint city in Georgia when evacuating from a hurricane; I’ve never felt as happy, along with my family, when I was there. A change of scenery can sometimes do wonders, though it is not always the answer admittedly.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Lucy — May the joy of the season fill your heart here at the closing if the year 2021, and may peace abide in 2022. This is a most difficult time for our planet earth, and a time of turmoil for its peoples. May 2022 begin the way back! ✌🏼❤️🌎

    Liked by 1 person

    1. To you as well, my friend! Hope you continue to do well and feel better.

      I’m certain as with years past, there will be difficulties and turmoil globally but the first step is acknowledging it and then planning how to overcome them. Easier said than done, sadly. May we be on the road to recovery or at the very least, the beginning of it. ❤

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      1. Ah, it looks great so far! Reminds me of a dark piano piece I once created- although I don’t know how something visual made me relate to audible memories. Still great, though!

        Liked by 1 person

  7. This is absolutely stellar writing, Lucy! The poem in its entirety just flows and flows .. allowing the reader to visualize the emotions that pour. Happy holidays, my friend! 💝💝

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my word, that means so much to me–much more than you’d know. Thank you so, so much. That really makes me happy to hear that, especially since I just love and adore your poetry. Thank you again and I hope you’re having a good holiday season!

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      1. Sis, you’re fucking amazing and I’ll get you to admit it one day. I LOVE your poetry and the honesty in each poem just breaks me, makes me wish I could bare my own soul like that too.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Oh fuck, I got to this three months late. Sorry about that.

        But, if the offer still stands… I guess some prompt ideas that could be interesting would be taking a quote from Kafka and writing a poem around it (I did something similar last night). Other ideas include referencing shows you’ve watched or exploring the character dynamics/tension; I also rely on music to match my moods, since I have to write based on my own headspace in the moment. Also, I use other poetry as a soundboard for words, so I read something and think, “Ooh, I like that word” and then I read an entirely different poem and find another interesting word, “I like that one too, let’s mix and match them.” At times, it helps inspire interesting imagery and even subsequent verses from what they evoke.

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