Home

by Melpomene   Mar 13, 2015


You are

a floral cologne of bottlebrush
and eucalyptus, salt and seaside,
cactus and umber.

I have seen your cities dressed
in drainpipes, seen you mourn with
cyclone and storm.

You were the first spectacular
I'd seen, concrete biting at your
ankles and sea nipping at
your seams.

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Latest Comments

  • 8 years ago

    by Beautiful Soul

    Where is Home? It could be anywhere that our heart chooses it to be. That is what I think this poem means. I also love how you have written this piece, The metaphors are wonderful and the word play here is outstanding at its best. You captured the essence of the world in one poem. I also think this could be about moods and how one can feel all in one body. Is it love you have for this person or is it bipolar maybe? It could be both, but that is the beauty of poetry you let the readers mind flow from one thought to the next and that is what makes poetry special. 5/5

  • 8 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    Judging Comment

    Mel is the Queen of word display in my opinion... this deeply moving description of her home leaves me speechless!!
    I tasted salt water.. I could hear and ocean perhaps... just wow!

    Elegant, and powerful on visual displays!! Lovely!!

  • 8 years ago

    by Sunshine

    This poem feels like home. Very stylish, unique, different. Speaks of its own genre, has its own stamp! What a very classy art.

    Fell for every single word, from the very 1st you to the very last point in this poem.

    The imagery is just unbelievably original and innovative. This is one of those poems that one ponders upon.

    The many different aspects in the poem reflects how this personal attribute in its different forms, and different circumstances could be related-by, by anyone else towards their own by the strong affection and emotion between the lines.

    The poem stands like a queen in this contest. Keep the ink flowing.

  • 9 years ago

    by Larry Chamberlin

    What is home but the summation of our world?

    Your olfactory and tactile impressions arise from an earlier age than many of us can relate. You seem to lead us through a scene of developing awareness - of drainpipes looming out at a child's level, cataclysms so much greater than anything that came before that they eclipsed experience.

    Is this metaphor for love's overpowering dominance of your ego structure? Or is it straightforward reverie?

    I think it is neither and both, something much more that I have not even come close to touching on.

  • 9 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    So lovely, Mel, congrats on the win! What makes this poem stand out that much more is as mentioned above, it's personal and these images and scents hold so much meaning to you. It's refreshing to read, too.

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