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On Feeling Homeless, Yet Again





Life's too ironic; more clear it was
when I planned for vacation at home
a long time ago; nowhere will I find
this enigma but in planning
for those holidays in the place I grew up.
Sometimes I feel like a vagabond
but then I realise I have found
my home in being rootlessness.
In this plight, I have lost
all my connection, and if not for the rare
adrenaline rush when I think back,
yet I feel so detached.


Then I was looking for ways
to climb out of the mire;
now the very ascension is, I found,
the way of life and so, any preceding predicament
gets itself lost as the clock ticks forever.

Home is where the hatred is.
And I didn't know the line can be read
so plain but when
the self-acclaimed saviours become the savage,
I see new meanings of what hatred is,
and I can see so plain the nights of pain
will find it hard to see the light of the dawn.
More detachment.

But the memories keep deceiving me:
Of my parent telling me I'm better
without a home, in some pursuit
of some fucking dreams, far away from
the glaring eyes of greed and guns;
Of many of us attending to
the election campaigns, arguing
it's no use chopping just a branch
of the big fat tree; and I was
high and disillusioned all the time that I wish
now I could repossess those kicks rather than
feeling at home in being homeless.    

Memories, memories, memories.
But I'm happy to be homeless than
feeling at home, where strange beliefs
lead the processes and functions,
and in every annual horoscope of the land
it has been predicted that
the cops would kill,
the rebels would be spoiled,
the government would keep fucking,
enjoying themselves, and everyone
would be depressed and dejected...
— and am I happy to feel at home
in being homelessness?
Forsaken. Forsaken happiness.

Now I have lost my way, my connection.
Now it is painful to live without a home
even if I drive my point home that
I have found a home in a dingy street corner.
Now I feel home is where the hell is.
Now I feel so homeless, yet again.
Now I have fallen out of the mainstream.
Now I don't even want to continue.



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