our old home
The prompt at Poets and Storytellers United asks us what conjures up "Home". There are perhaps many images that do that, and I would like to share this old poem (written and published here about a decade ago) about an old place I grew up in.
pencil sketch by dsnake1
our old home
looking out of the taxi from the viaducts
of the expressway
i saw the lights in the huge yards bathing the port
like day
the containers stacked as neatly as colourful
lego bricks
the cranes over them like metal brachiosauruses
breathing steam
once upon a time my cousin and i
catch catfishes
where the giant ships at the wharves
now berthed
not caring about the stings
or drowning
today as the last evening lights
scattered off
offices and warehouses ringed by a
chain-link fence
casting shadows and memories on a
concrete strip
there used to stand a house where I
called home.
15/11/2013
**********
"Tomorrow, we will be flying over the South China Sea
& home"
dsnake1 - lonely when away from home
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023
our old home
looking out of the taxi from the viaducts
of the expressway
i saw the lights in the huge yards bathing the port
like day
the containers stacked as neatly as colourful
lego bricks
the cranes over them like metal brachiosauruses
breathing steam
once upon a time my cousin and i
catch catfishes
where the giant ships at the wharves
now berthed
not caring about the stings
or drowning
today as the last evening lights
scattered off
offices and warehouses ringed by a
chain-link fence
casting shadows and memories on a
concrete strip
there used to stand a house where I
called home.
15/11/2013
**********
"Tomorrow, we will be flying over the South China Sea
& home"
dsnake1 - lonely when away from home
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023
posted by dsnake1 at 12:02 AM
21 Comments:
This really comes to life. It inspire to write something about the house I grew up in that no longer exsists.
Reminds me of the wharf just below Times Square in New York City.
Kids still fish there but that's about all they have space to do now.
..
Very moving. My own childhood home is standing, but remodeled to the point of no longer being recognizable. Worse, the yard my father grew was bulldozed flat.
Colleen,
Thank you!
I guess most of us have growing-up homes with fond memories. :)
Jim,
Thank you!
You made me look up Google Maps about the wharves near Times Square. Interesting place.
New York City. I would really like to visit it once in my lifetime.
Lisa,
Thank you.
Change is constant but to see something fond bulldozed to the ground is sad.
Your words painted a picture full of nostalgia, and the pencil sketch had the 'feel' of an urban landscape in a state of flux... An effective pairing, I thought. :-)
How wonderfully well you create those images for us! And, as always, I love your beautifully effective understatement when it comes to the emotional aspect.
A sad commentary, where once catfish could be caught and children roam, now lies a concrete strip. Often repeated. Everywhere.
Jinsky,
Thank you!
I am glad you see the pencil sketch as an urban landscape. It was intended this way. It was inpired by Piet Mondrian's artwork. :)
Rosemary,
Thank you!
Going past that place, I was amazed at how much changes had happened. The place I had grown up as a child has changed beyond recognition. The shophouse where I had grown up as a teen is now a hotel. :)
Yvonne,
Thank you!
Yes, it's happening everywhere, in the name of progress. Unless that building or land is tagged with "historic place" or "national monument", one can bet the bulldozers and wrecking balls will move in. :)
I suppose it is not unusual to find your childhood home no longer in existence It still exists in your mind and you describe it very effectively. Bulldozers cannot destroy that memory
Thank you, Rall!
Yes, bulldozers cannot destroy that memory. (Perhaps only old age. 😀 )
Sad to see the changes wrought on an old home and its memories.
Love the pencil sketch.
Thank you, Sara!
I have been trying to leave a comment at your blog, but I am unable to.
Childhood homes are very dear - bulldozed would be tough - but your poem proves memories are wonderful as well!
Super blog
Thank you, Rajani. :)
Thank you, Margaret!
Just saw your comment in the spam folder. Blogger is acting up again. :)
Some memories are just heartbreaking. Sigh. "Progress" can be such a downer.
Thank you, Magaly.
It is, but we have to live with it. :)
Bello poema rememorando el hogar. La vida suele llevar a vivir en varios sitios. Antiguamente no. Pero a fecha actual si.
Gracias.
Yes, we are like nomads, living in several places. And more relevant now, in this age of easy and fast travel.
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