avatarNasar Karim

Summary

The poem reflects a deep yearning for a return to the sanctuary of the author's childhood home, a place that exists vividly in memory and offers refuge from the present.

Abstract

The poem "Your world does not exist" is a poignant reflection on the concept of home and the search for comfort in a world that feels alienating. It paints a vivid picture of the author's longing to return to their childhood home, a place of solace and familiarity, which frequently visits them in dreams. The poem describes the emotional resonance of this home, depicted with a green door and a garden, as a sanctuary that contrasts sharply with the disorienting reality of the present. Despite the physical distance and the passage of time, the author finds solace in the memories of this home, suggesting that the true essence of 'home' is an internal state, unaffected by the external world.

Opinions

  • The author expresses a profound emotional connection to their childhood home, which they associate with comfort and safety.
  • There is a sense of displacement and a desire to escape the present reality by retreating into the past.
  • The poem suggests that the concept of home transcends physical space; it is a state of mind that can be accessed through memory and imagination.
  • The repeated requests to "go home" imply a struggle to find a sense of belonging in the current environment.
  • The caregiver's response, "You’re already here," indicates a misunderstanding of the author's longing for the past, highlighting the disconnect between the author's internal world and external reality.

Your world does not exist

A poem about sanctuary

Photograph of my childhood home. Image Credit: Nasar Karim

I want to go back To the house with the green door, It comes back to me Whenever I sleep.

I’d asked to go home Screaming in small hours, She showed me the door Discoloured by the streetlight.

Tired arms cradled me Face worn with worry, Repeating the words “You’re already here.”

I sit at the windows Looking into the garden, I live there again Eyes closed, body limp.

I am in those rooms Wherever I am, Your world does not exist Inside these walls.

Poetry
Poetry On Medium
Poetry Sunday
Childhood
Memories
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