Home

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where is home?

is home where you were born?

is it where you wish to die?

is it where you wish to live in between?

is it where you find yourself?

is it the one you love?

is home something you carry with you in your soul?

is it all of these things?

what if these things are scattered all over the earth..and buried under it?

Someone once said to me: once you’ve crossed the ocean, you feel you’re always on the wrong side..

I’ve published these poems about leaving Montreal, which is a home

https://hatsorveils.com/2016/11/20/freefall/

https://hatsorveils.com/2016/10/25/last-snow/

 

and here is a poem about going back home..home-home

They’re contradictory, but true

 

 

As I step off the plane

I let out a breath

one I didn’t know I was holding

Though it’s all beige and bland

with some sea and sand

To my sore eyes

it’s a sight to be-holding (close)

I feel safe despite wars

And breakneck speed cars

I feel fair cloaked in my abaya*

Best of all I blend in

And completely fit in

No longer …a pariah

  • Abaya: long black cloak worn by women in Saudi, over their clothes
  • Finding Your Place
    image:https://www.google.ca/search?q=abaya+in+desert&safe=active&espv=2&biw=1534&bih=837&tbm=isch&imgil=UqzXbGT7hIVkvM%253A%253BkL1Blt0RpFKpaM%253Bhttps%25253A%25252F%25252Fwww.tussah.ae%25252Fproducts%25252Fdesert-butterfly-abaya&source=iu&pf=m&fir=UqzXbGT7hIVkvM%253A%252CkL1Blt0RpFKpaM%252C_&usg=__PVDDLVkvCJtsr7E1aDsn5-iqVes%3D&ved=0ahUKEwiWl87l6PvQAhVi34MKHWHlA7YQyjcIJQ&ei=tX5VWNboOOK-jwThyo-wCw#q=abaya+in+desert&safe=active&tbm=isch&tbs=rimg:CX_1do3e6ZoPGIjh46KSYdJK1fbShL8MDSyKP_1-Iv_17sr8gah-r1k8MihRdk6uOEPpdo1VaI-Rmd6t0ZZGmB4Sl03PSoSCXjopJh0krV9EX2LeHl6TyHFKhIJtKEvwwNLIo8RuLx8mCmKyxEqEgn_14i_1_1uyvyBhELbNN6vIzSjSoSCaH6vWTwyKFFEbNk1OMbfynwKhIJ2Tq44Q-l2jURb44ul_1-WoIcqEglVoj5GZ3q3RhGt-igEnioMsioSCVkaYHhKXTc9ETFWDkZT6_1a9&imgrc=f92jd7pmg8bkCM%3A
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Freefall

fall.jpg

 

It’s supposed to snow this week. I’ve been putting off this poem, but it’s time.

Winter’s coming.

 

I feel my heart fall

 as the leaves fall

in my last fall

in Montreal

I feel my heart break

It’s so high stakes

wish time would slow

To a crawl

It’s my last shot

In the pool game

It’s the black one

Eight- ball

But I’m going home

To remake a home

I won’t be alone

After all

Still it’s so unknown

Though it’s called my own

Have faith, close your eyes

freefa

               a

                   a

                       a

                           a

                               a

                                    a

                                         a

                                             a

                                                   .

                                                         .

                                                                .

 

Wid Kattan

Ghosting Smoke

smoke.jpg

I recently read a blog entry on “ghosting”, a phenomenon I didn’t know about.. I think it’s  when a person deliberately disappears from your life. Painful.  I imagined the writer’s feelings..and came up with this.

ghosting loves..

disappearing acts..

gone in a whiff of smoke..

 

 

I hold back tears

that clog my throat

feel like I’m going to choke

 

 

Again?!

Again?!

a broken heart?

My love life is a joke

 

 

 

But hope..

it springs eternal

next love, a luck of stroke

 

 

 

Please!

Smoke

 

image retrieved from : smoke

Diamond Sun Heart

To all the people who tell me of their broken hearts,

be it broken by your partner, parent, child, friend..

Your heart is stronger than to ever truly be broken.

I give you this poem.

Give it to yourself.

 

 

I thought

I was broken forever

My heart lost and ruined and gone

But that was before knowing

My heart’s strength,

and then it dawned

My heart was not of glass or stone

But something ever more strong

A brilliant blinding diamond that

Shines more when cut or wronged

As sweet as your breath

As dark as your spell

As seductive the threads you’ve spun

Have you ever heard

Of a blow of breath

To put out the light of the sun?
Shine

Last Snow

 

Today, I witnessed

My last first snow

My first now seems

so long ago

I was not prepared then

No hat, no gloves

Head tipped back

Heart warm with love

I’m not prepared now

To say goodbye

So this time

As it snows..

:

:

I cry

Wid Kattan

Image retrieved from:

https://www.google.ca/search?q=last+snow&safe=active&espv=2&biw=1423&bih=839&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwil3sLAg_bPAhVlyoMKHXMHBPEQ_AUIBigB#safe=active&tbm=isch&q=snow&imgrc=vsxlZmr0GgCqXM%3A