My Beloved


They ask me what’s wrong with your beloved?
She looks sad, heartbroken, and in despair
Where is her smile you often praise?

I answered them my beloved is sick
She’s in pain, she has been for awhile
It pains me to see her this way

But I know she will heal
She will smile again
She will stand on her feet again

For I know my beloved
Hidden beneath all the chaos you see
Hopes, dreams, joy, and prosperity

Author’s note: This poem is about my home, which I miss and think of a lot, as well as my family, friends, and neighbors.  



Could have, would have, should have been on the streets, on my feet
Looking out my cell window like damn, I’m so far from a street
Staring at the wall like this isn’t where I should be
In the visitation room just looking at my beautiful niece
When I call home just talking and thinking like that’s where I should be
When they call my name at mail call, you should see the smile on my face, just the happiest as I could be
Under the jail if I die in prison I know that is where they’ll bury me
When pencil meets paper, my hand lets out the real me
When I read, I travel to every place but Southeast

On The Same Page Group Poem: My Home

We had an amazing On the Same Page session last week with the Georgetown University First-Year Orientation to Community Involvement (FOCI) program, which introduces incoming Georgetown students to social justice issues and opportunities for service and social change in Washington, DC. To close the session, the FOCIans (as they like to be called) and our Poet Ambassadors and staff co-wrote a group poem to the prompt “My Home.” We were inspired by the FOCIans’ commitment to social justice, and it was a great reminder for all of us: we may be coming from different backgrounds and different homes, but we all share the same need for love, support, comfort, safety, and family. And we all share the responsibility for making every community a safe, welcoming, and supportive home.

My Home

My home is where I have struggled, prospered, experienced pain, and rejoiced
Through it all
I have grown into the person I am today

My home is a place of comfort – a place of serenity + safety
No fear, no struggle
Surely, my home is not all homes

My home… 4 people
Sometimes in sync
Sometimes not
All doing their things
But bound by some things in common:
Caring, understanding, love

My home is governed by God
So joy + peace is not a façade

My home is bowls of warm tortellini
Late night Mets games
And hugs with my sister

My home is a place of support, humor, and hope
Grounded in the faith of my family
Committed to making ourselves live for others
By letting our hearts soak in the salience of unrecognized societal signs

My home is in the trees
Bark under my feet
Thoughts bouncing and breaking
Finding the places I keep hidden
I listen for the night to tell me
What’s inside myself

My home is what shaped me
My home is why I’m here
My home is what defines me
I did not choose my home

My home is a place of comfort – a place of serenity + safety
No fear, no struggle
Surely, my home is not all homes

Home is nowhere near
But is everywhere dear to my heart
Home… is my sanctuary
My place of hiding
Where my soul finds solace in me
Unconditional love from my mother
Weary and tired, I walk
Into my mother’s arms and cry
Until I have let it all out
Home will always be

I find my home in the love of my family and friends
It is where I feel comfortable yet challenged
Sharing life with others while being wholly myself

Three daughters with blue eyes
Two hard working parents
A fireplace on a cold autumn night
An Irish blessing on the wall
& Georgetown blankets on the couch

I look out the window and watch as the waves hit the beach
Unending patterns surround me
Do I notice the monotony anymore?
Sometimes I need to step away from it all
Exploring the unknown like the heron soaring overhead

Fresh, home-cooked food
Is a pleasure I have come to know
All too well
I have a bed to sleep on
Clothes to wear
And a family to love
But sometimes I wonder
What would I be like if those were gone?
Would I be different? Or would I be the same?
Would I frolic in the warmth? Or writhe in the cold?
I know what I have, and I am grateful for that
I praise God every day for what he has blessed me with
But sometimes I can’t help but wonder
What it would be like
If all that I had come to know
Were to change
A change that would challenge me
Alter the world as I know it
Force me to probe the inner depths of my soul
To find what I really feel
About the world in which I have come
To love
But then I realize that my home is my solitude
A place where I can go to drop
What the world has forced upon me
I can go home for a bed to sleep on
And a nice piece of blueberry pie
And then I realize, whenever this change comes,
My home is what will keep my life together
My home lets me go on

I am lucky to have a home
I am even luckier to call it mine
My home isn’t just a place where I live,
But more importantly it is a place where I love, laugh, smile
Not everyone has a house,  but I have been given a home
How did I get so lucky