Patron

Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: rikwrybac@yahoo.com. The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 400 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like. Thank you for my readers. Thank you for your comments.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

In Chicago, not at Home


There is no sense of home for me here
and I'm not even there anymore
except for now in my memory
as I wind through the streets
going from here to there
in the Green Mill
underground downtown
waiting for my love around the corner

The sense of home comes to each of us at birth
otherwise we are tumbling
through the waves of an electrified field
we are unfamiliar with
imprinted on us at the moment of conception
or perhaps the moment of our birth
or learning to sail through it as we grow
and from then on it is everything

This reminder came to me listening to Metheny
ask if I was going with him
and for that moment I was
standing on a train platform
heading for a studio downtown
to record a commercial for a furniture store
inconceivable to me now
that I would follow him into the city

But there is the power of music
the piper pulls you through another life
just listening to a melody or a beat
that passed through your world
a long time ago in another life
and suddenly you are transported
into the sights and feelings
the pain of not being at home where you are

But I can pull myself away now
and I'm back in the Black Hills
surrounded by my magnetic field
so comfortable and warm
and hearing another city move through my mind
I move back and forth
swaying between home and hurt
the pain of a city where love went away

Copyright (c) 2012 by Barry G. Wick

No comments: