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Poems On / About HOUSE  1/27/2015 7:21:54 PM
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The house she refers to

She first told me of this house when I was a child
She wrote it in her documents and filed
A house so wild
Where the people are very cold
A house like a wrestling hold
Everyone scrambling for gold
There are murmurs and calls for hate
Which spreads amongst the offspring they procreate
To go and lie in wait
Until they receive orders to fire
At anyone who aims higher
So that they get what they require
She documents a house of takers
Wanting to acquire acres
Which they are not the makers
She documents a house of doom
Where deception is a costume
And aversion is spread from a control room
She documents a house of pain
Where there is nothing to gain
And says to me again and again
Beware and tread with care
For there are fumes of hate in the air
This she makes me aware
She tells me of this house each day
So I would not be lead astray
What then can I say
Before the bee stings
I would pray for certain things
One is for God to carry me on a pair of wings
To fly me on a fast pace
To a new place
Where He would put a smile on my face
A place of joy and peace
Mark Nyamekye Boadi

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I consider my body a house
Wherein I am the lone inhabitant.
Here in this house see the bones
Forming spine ribs arms
Here see the legs are like beams
Crossbeams and pillar of body-house
The whole structure of this house
Is full of stool urine and covered by
Skin hair nails
This house-body is deteriorating day by day
And disintegrating
This body is flimsy one and filled with
Unpleasant elements always
Nine doors are here in this body
Two eyes two nostrils two ears the mouth
The genital and anus
I am neglecting my own house
That is going in to crushed in to powder
Cut in to pieces, drowned, burned, suffocated
The builder of the house is Almighty
I have forgotten Him who has the sketch map
And all the materials of repair works.
He is the sculpture and the mason and the well-wisher
Really I am committing mistake not remembering Him
And enjoying here alone without giving Him His dues.
And I am suffering and I am suffering here.
gajanan mishra

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Song for a Little House

I'M glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide:
I'm glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.

Our little house is a friendly house.
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees,
And makes friends with the rain.

And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the dutious bees
Are paying duty calls.
Christopher Morley

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King's Land

Stand thou forever among human Houses,
House of the Resurrection, House of Birth;
House of the rooted hearts and long carouses,
Stand, and be famous over all the Earth.
Hilaire Belloc

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Poems On / About HOUSE