Best Home(A) Poems


Free Dog To Good Home: a Biting Satire

Dog Free to Good Home

By Elton Camp

I have a dog to give away
One I picked up as a stray

Only good homes need apply
Who Brutus’ needs will supply

Recommendations you must give
And let me come see how you live

Also, Brutus must be kept inside
A fenced yard must be supplied

Pet insurance you must take out
Vet visits supplied without doubt

Table scraps you mustn’t feed
The finest food he does need

Just to take him in is not okay
An adoption is the only way

Your fur child he has to be 
In order for you to satisfy me

Also, his territory you must respect
Otherwise, it’s an attack to expect

If all of these things you will supply
Then to adopt him you may apply
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Home a Familiar Place

The smell of baking bread
A welcome at the door,
That comfortable armchair-
Paintings on the wall,
Gran-kids coming to call,
No ceremony or fuss
Family and us-
Bibles & books abound,
His love to surround,
Loyalty is found

Home- a Sickness

in metro city
A-PART-MENTS, FLATS, COMPLEXES,
is any house "home"


Home- a Place Where I Can Go

The blue coloured walls
with a roof and a floor ,
i call it a home .

A large peepal tree 
covers it and provides shade,
a nest on tree does not let its beauty fade.

A small  verandah with railings ,
where my kids  keep on playing ,
dark brown doors and windows 
will remind me of my vows.

A buddha painted on the wall
will add to the peace and luxury overall.
HOME a place where i can go
and would want my children to grow.

The  light brow wooden furniture and  yellow plush sofas 
will remind you all of a big stuffed samosas.
The texture on the walls
and an cupboard for all my handmade shawls, 
will cover the bedroom hall.

The shin steel utensils
light up the dull kitchen drawers.
The tiles on the wall
will remind you of a waterfall.

then comes the children's room, my favorite one.
When you will enter  and sit on the chairs, so very fluffy
you are surely gonna dose off in a jiffy.

The trophies and medals 
decorate the pale white shelves.
The toughened glass cupboard
will surely be adored.

Alexa fills the room with melody all over,
as artificial intelligence can not ignored.
Security will be priority
so the corners will have cameras in warranty.

My drawings cover each and every room with focus light,
the frames will have all the pictures of people that i care about.
All this will give my house a concrete shape ,
where memories is what i will create.

This is my home miles away from rome,
where the doors will always be open for you,
thank you

Don'T Make Home a Heartbreak

My heart
Was in a slumber so deep
Almost as if poison
Had put me to sleep 
But you 
You were the one
Just that one special person
Who could change that for me

Because 
Your smile
Was so gentle
So kind
Just like a fireplace 
With a warm embrace
I would get enlaced every time

Your words were so soft and kind 
It made my heart rewind
But with the rewind 
It also
Put thoughts in my mind
I felt as if
I wasn’t ready
To know what true love is 
Because I was a fool of so many others
games and tricks

It gave me that feeling that was deep in my heart
It felt like a shiver down my spine
But the good kind
The kind that made me want to stay with you forever
Together

I know I’m a lot to fix
Because of the damage that was done 
By everyone else
But with you I feel something greater
I feel safe
As if I have finally found my home

So please
Don’t make our love a mistake 
The heartbreak
Will just be too much to take
My heart will just fall asleep forever
Never again to be awake

~11/2/2017
© Jane Doe  Create an image from this poem.

Returning Home (A Past Experience)

Outside he walks 
along the streets 
where a legend was born 
and lived in his hometown
of Baltimore
Yes, none other than Babe Ruth

Standing there alone 
in front of his birth place
he daydreams into the past 
of how it once was
and how it is now 
but more of how it was

The poet's memory
is focus and he 
hear's the roar 
of the crowd at the stadium 
cheering on their home team

But the cheers stands 
for more than just a game
played to him they represented
the establishment for their city 
of Baltimore

He walks along the streets 
daydreaming of the stepball 
games he use to play in 
and watching the girls 
playing jacks in front 
of the house on the stone steps
Yes, the children laughter 
reminds him of how it use 
to be

Waking in the morning
to the smell of scraphle 
served over eggs
A tradition without an end
The poet's memory focus, 
he recalls once being a native 
of Baltimore

He daydreams of the peddlers
riding down the streets
Horses pulling their wagons
full with the hometown famous 
foods for sell 
Crates and baskets
full of all kinds of sea foods 

Crabs cooked and steamed,
sometimes brewed in pots 
of beer, shrimps raw 
and cooked, plenty of fish 

Yes, a grand place to him 
where his pride stands out
The city teaches him he 
is welcome
as they prepare their feast 
for the people to buy 
and enjoy

The past insist to surface 
on his return home
Memories of what once was 
and what is now but more of 
what was then

Looking into his past 
where  his roots lies
He didn't forget his strolls 
along the Harbor there forever 
resting Fort Mc Henry
there caresses in the warmth 
of Spring a fortress 
once protected by it's cannons
The site memories of home


Premium Member Home- a Happy Haven

 Home should be made a place of love
A stable shelter from all storms of life
Within the walls of a happy home, I avow,
There will be no room for spite or strife
Where all live in the spirit of peace as dove

A place to turn to when heavy with care
The love received there is balm to every scar
An abode to which, after tedious toil, we happily retire
A simple dwelling with not even a palace, on par
Where, in joys and sorrows, all have an equal share. 

A home is more than a roof above our head
But a haven where all dissensions disappear
Where each one is bound by love’s thread
And the river of life runs smooth and clear
Where God is revered, and prayers are said 

October.16.2022

Your Choice Again Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand


Three Stanza Poem in Quintain (Sicilian)
Sponsor- L. Milton Hankins







……………………………………………

Don'T Make Home a Heartbreak

My heart
Was in a slumber so deep
Almost as if poison
Had put me to sleep 
But you 
You were the one
Just that one special person
Who could change that for me

Because 
Your smile
Was so gentle
So kind
Just like a fireplace 
With a warm embrace
I would get enlaced every time

Your words were so soft and kind 
It made my heart rewind
But with the rewind 
It also
Put thoughts in my mind
I felt as if
I wasn’t ready
To know what true love is 
Because I was a fool of so many others
games and tricks

It gave me that feeling that was deep in my heart
It felt like a shiver down my spine
But the good kind
The kind that made me want to stay with you forever
Together

I know I’m a lot to fix
Because of the damage that was done 
By everyone else
But with you I feel something greater
I feel safe
As if I have finally found my home

So please
Don’t make our love a mistake 
The heartbreak
Will just be too much to take
My heart will just fall asleep forever
Never again to be awake

~11/2/2017                    
By Hannah Rothen & Pailey Gordon

She Made My Home a Church

She eased the dreams of my teens,

For,

An English home,

A Japanese wife,

By stepping into my home as a house-wife,

My home,with a wife,in pease is now like a church!

Welcome Home, a Vilerai Poetry

Welcome home 
And comfort me 
Today 
Dear Rosanme 
Come and join me 
Love dose  
After prayers of prophets at home
No one will separate you and me 
from Monday

You will turn my house rose
Strong parfum to my nose 
daily 
Visitors will sense it mostly
At our main entrance
Everyday  
Happiness will rise superbly
In our family 
As...I Say 

Well known couple from that Monday 
Which will be a blessed day 
To you and me 
Lesbian and  Gay
Will astonish  on our marriage day 
At home 
To see saulmates of the first Monday 
Of the year till to the last day 
Of life. 

March 14/2023
Written for contest sponsored by Kim Rodriguez

Premium Member Home, a word that people wear like a cloak of light

Home, a word that people wear like a cloak of light,
uttered like a spell of peace, a place where the heart finds rest,
but for me, it has always been a land of shadows and troubling echoes,
never a sanctuary of safety, but a silent struggle for survival.
Since I was a child, I felt the pain hidden beneath the mask of love,
but love should not leave deep marks that scream in silence,
fun should not push you to dissolve into nothingness,
I tried to make my voice heard, but the words turned into storms.
I don’t think I hate them, but I find no peace in their restless presence,
I long for space, for the silence that embraces the lost soul,
I want to be alone not because I am shattered, but because only then can I breathe,
when I hear the word "home," I don’t see walls, but a refuge for the free spirit.
A place where I can be myself, without hiding my wings for fear of judgment,
where I can follow the call of dreams and exist without restrictions,
where I am not afraid to speak the truth or live in vivid colors,
but such a place never existed within these cold walls.
And yet, my heart still yearns for that realm of light,
I don’t know where it is, but I know I’ll recognize it by the deep peace,
and until I find that place or weave it from threads of dreams,
I will continue to escape into the universe of my mind, for everyone deserves a home,
even those who have never felt like they have one.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

I want to be your home a music video

I want to be your home
to welcome you in, just so you know
you will never again be so alone

For though we are temporarily apart
and for this time we work on righting our apple carts
before the real mind meld dance card gets to start

But I know where my heart is
I know where my mind wanders
and where my dreams do tread

And it's with you I would rather be
though you told me not to wait for you
I know there is nothing, no one that replaces you

I want you
I need you
I desire you in my soul

It's rare to have a depth of feeling
the knowing of a kindred soul
someone you can unwind completely with
relax and know it won't grow old

I had no idea you existed
and you are far more than I could expect
Even had I made a list
you exceeded every spec

Our communication sizzles
even in chat it's off the charts
on cam it was hot, it would have set off fire alarms

You are charming and talented
intelligent and wise
worldly and silly, vibrant and alive

Even had I made a list
you exceeded every spec

Our communication sizzles
even in chat it's off the charts
on cam it was hot, it would have set off fire alarms

You are charming and talented
intelligent and wise
worldly and silly, vibrant and alive

You turn me on, so I wrote this song
Your virtues I can extoll for days
but I want to disrobe you too
I want to make you mine
and have you in turn, make me yours

Whoaaa 

I want you
I need you
I desire you in my soul

Dropping you a kiss in text . I had no idea it only took six hours to fall in love....

Dropping you a kiss in text .   I had no idea it only, took six hours to fall in love.

ohhh ...

Home a Lone

HOME ALONE
The vacation bean for winter,
Alone in home with my diary,
My parent at wedding season,
Being a kin at home ,
Loneliness  hugging me too tight.
My dear ones and pal,
At their own world,
Only me the only left,
In their ordinary world,
The room so big,
The being so small,
The things too many,
The mind so fresh,
The T.V seems to be my best pal,
But no longer, 
The sound of the thief rat,
Sound so scary.
Smell of the room,
The view of the crying cat,
View so scary.
If some one sending beside me,
My head don’t to turn back,
And my mind totally freak,
The heart beat so fast,
While hearing the bell ring ‘ting tong’’ 
Can’t wish to go move out from my second pal blanket.
But I have to move so.
Cause Am home alone.
No one seems to open the door.
And when the door was opened,
It was my best pal.

By  Nehamiah Theophylus Haokip
On31//3/2014

Ambulance Dispatched To A Nursing Home - A Ghostly Account

that call, a face
    porcelain 
pressed against glass
and dead eyes wrought
from an attic room
    watching us

her name badge was
irrelevant
  “No, those top rooms
  are not used, full
  of junk and all locked up”
yet the face watched us
leave; into 
  the further ghosts
    of night

Driving Home a Point

today his pickup has made its point,
  seems no place and time, no weather
    can be more apt for that purpose
      than this wet, sloping dirt-road bend

        right smack in the muddy middle
          of a desolate cornfield somewhere
            in the heart of a lightning-lit night,
              right in the eye of a nasty storm;

a few minutes ago, it roared,
  but then it wouldn't move an inch;
    its engine faltered, missed two beats,
      whimpered and then finally died;

        drenched in rain and desperation,
          he works the clutch and battery
            as he tries to coax back to life
              the ignition, but  all to no avail;

he gets out fuming mad, cursing,
  slams the steel door, slushes away
    in the soft mud, shivers in the rain,
      glancing back, he sees his pickup

        sitting on its shadow, chuckling,
          seems to him with malice, gloating,
            triumphant in its metallic conviction
              that it has driven home a hard point !

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