Sun Chaser: Where are you from?

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Where are you from?

"Where I'm From" poems are simple, beautiful, and as unique as snowflakes.

I wrote the one posted in the right column of this page. Writing them is always an interesting experience, because I think of so many things that were a part of my childhood. I've written more than one, and the really great thing is they're always different and I learn something new every time.

If you'd like to write one, you can find the template here. If you aren't sure where to start, check out the one written by the founder of this style of poem, George Ella Lyon. There's even a place to listen to her read it aloud which I strongly encourage you to do. Poetry is mean to be voiced!

If you write one and don't mind sharing it, I'd like to read it. You can e-mail it to me....at least I think there's a way to do that.

-Apple

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Where I'm from

I am from library books, from SPAM, eggs, and grits for breakfast, five days a week.

I am from a trailer on half an acre, from a clover and weeds lawn standing up sharp like beard stubble.

I am from blueberry bushes in fall, and strawberry patches in spring. From potted mint leaves on the steps, and the water-stained wood around it.

I am from octopus hugs and un-funny jokes, from Mema, and Papa, and Grandaddy.

I am from five different types of crazy, and everybody talking at once, from “I’ll love you forever” and “Homey don’t play dat.”

I am from Baptists and BBN, from a preachin’ daddy and a silent mama.

I’m from Wake Forest, North Carolina, from riblets and collard greens.

I’m from the scar over my little brother’s left eye where I hit him with a rock, and the family read-alouds when mama “did all the voices.”

I’m from melted audio tapes and VHS recordings of me and my brother’s adventures, from water-damaged half-finished scrapbooks, and smoke-stained photo albums worth so much more than the house that burned down around them.