Shattered, or: Built anew

A ‘Garland’ Shadorma

I've returned
from imposed exile
that my child
may belong
that she never need reclaim
a lost legacy

even as
freedom's native son
belonging
eludes me
pulled between societies
nearly stretched to shreds

homeland-born
never asked to be
raised away
far, so far,
from grandparents, aunts, cousins
from my truest self

the worst- was
not realizing
that I was
a stranger
navigating my life through
a foreign culture

as a child
with home so distant
my mind was
wholly filled
with romantic ideas
inherited hopes

adulthood
realizing dreams
new viewpoints
painful blows
having what I thought I knew
shattered; built anew

I've returned
freedom's native son
raised abroad
a stranger
with romantic ideas
shattered; built anew

‘Garland’ Shadorma?

The ‘Garland’ Shadorma was created by Sylvia Cognac, modeled after the ‘Garland’ Cinquain. Essentially, it is a Shadorma series of seven stanzas, with the seventh and final stanza being composed of lines from all six previous stanzas.


d’Verse Open Link Night

I am sharing this poem for today’s OLN at d’Verse.


Let’s write poetry together!

When it comes to partnership, some humans can make their lives alone – it’s possible. But creatively, it’s more like painting: you can’t just use the same colours in every painting. It’s just not an option. You can’t take the same photograph every time and live with art forms with no differences.

Ben Harper (b. 1969)

Would you like to create poetry with me and have a completed poem of yours featured here at the Skeptic’s Kaddish? I am very excited to have launched the ‘Poetry Partners’ initiative and am looking forward to meeting and creating with you… Check it out!

55 thoughts on “Shattered, or: Built anew”

  1. Although these immigrant communities of exiles and refugees are more tightly knitted.
    Well not all, but with certain nationals they are able to form a home away from home and in so doing pass on traditions, culture way of living and ultimate build a legacy outside of the country.

    My tummy knots as you write about these feelings of being torn between two worlds.
    Yet oft when thinking of motherland for many it is a charred mess, why go home, to do what.

    What a privilege to travel and to return to a safe country, a warm and comforting bed. Family and friends there to welcome, eager to listen to your globe trotting stories. A bright contrast to leaving home with uncertainty

    And after so many years
    Returning home
    That strangeness feelings can be sooo overwhelming
    Starting anew, it ainโ€™t easy David.

    Havenโ€™t you posted this one before?

    1. ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป Abi ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐ŸคŽ ~ yes, I have! Every two weeks, I repost an older poem for the d’Verse community.

      Thanks for the kindness and empathy โค๏ธ

      1. Itโ€™s a saying in urdu. Iโ€™ve some experience of it via my 13 year old grandson who spent 5+ years in the US and has to reacquaint himself with our language and culture

          1. Yes, it only the name. Itโ€™s spoken in India and Pakistan. In Pakistan itโ€™s our national language

  2. What an interesting story of your life experiences. Interesting that you are embedding your daughter in her roots. Do you think there might be a possibility she will grow up and head out into the world far from home?

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