*This poem was inspired by the artworks by Mona Hatoum and it was derived from a few experiences I have had with houses that left me feeling cold, empty, and longing for the warmth of my home.
Not home (A Poem)
How is it a home
When all the pictures are prints seen on the home renovation channel
(Renovate your personality?)
Chairs and table made in China, made to never support your weight (mental or physical)
Pay nothing until 2012
Care for nothing until forever
Square plates,
So straight, too straight
They’re oh so chic,
Everyone will love them
Just like that new perfume
Of sickly sweet chemicals
That waft through the house
Eau de fake
High on the idea of home when
You know
You know it’s all just sharp edges,
corners
and plaster.
Don’t put posters up, it’ll ruin the paint
Don’t express yourself
It’ll ruin our image
Pretend to be perfect
Your room is anyway.
Take a tour of the house(jail)!
Stainless steel
Sterile, BLEACH
Bleach brightens our walls, our floors, and
our smiles
Disgustingly perfect white
Don’t move, don’t touch
Don’t
Breathe.
Air conditioning
F r i g i d
Causes the heart to shrink
Embrace the technology
Choke in its grasps
Headphones to wrap around
Never mind warm arms
Family portraits
Grin or you’re grounded
Were we ever a family?
Microwave dinners (ovens are the latest decoration)
Television on the table,
In each room
Blank stares, silent meals
Talking not permitted
Screaming with a mouth closed
Living rooms aren’t meant for living
Closed doors, closed hearts, minds
Love never existed here.
Mourning
This house is not a home.
this is why we are friends <3
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