My House

i only want to

be there to kiss you

as you want to be kissed

when you need to be kissed

where i want to kiss you

cause its my house and i plan to live in it

 

i really need to hug you

when i want to hug you

as you like to hug me

does this sound like a silly poem

 

i mean its my house

and i want to fry pork chops

and bake sweet potatoes

and call them yams

cause i run the kitchen

and i can stand the heat

 

i spent all winter in

carpet stores gathering

patches so i could make

a quilt

does this really sound

like a silly poem

 

i mean i want to keep you

warm

 

and my windows might be dirty

but its my house

and if i can't see out sometimes

they can't see in either

 

english isn't a good language

to express emotion through

mostly i imagine because people

try to speak english instead

of trying to speak through it

i don't know maybe it is

a silly poem

 

i'm saying it's my house

and i'll make fudge and call

it love and touch my lips

to the chocolate warmth

and smile at old men and call

it revolution cause what's real

is really real

and i still like men in tight

pants cause everybody has some

thing to give and more

important need something to take

 

and this is my house and you make me

happy

so this is your poem

Nikki Giovanni, theatlantic.com, November 20, 2020