|Where I'm From excerpts from poems
I'm from the noises of draining tap water
Whose path rounds in circles like ghost through your hair
From three cereal boxes in use at one time
Where the crazy neighbor girl with fire red hair yelled my name through
the fence and from my blind cat Cassie walking into walls occasionally
from the bully on the bus who wanted me to bring him 20 dollars and
my Ninja Turtle toys
my dad talked to him in person
I am from the trains under the Christmas tree
I am from wrenches and sockets, to spatulas and silver wear
I am from legalistic hippies
I am from meatloaf surprise to banister races,
I am from streets known not by name,
But by the friends who lived there.
I am from SLUGS, mushrooms, Oshkosh, finger paint and curly hair.
I am from Strawberry Shortcake and broken legs
From feeling cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs that I never minded
I'm from that big glass coffee table that got moved so much that we
decided to put it out in the garage. from grandparents I've lost to
and the only survivng one holding on by his endless knowledge
Getting to the sink with the help of a stool
Riding my bike, broken pedal to broken foot
Surfing boards like bananas floating by rain-setted air
But I belong to these memories
I'm from riding my bike to school without asking.
I'm from sounds of my parents fighting,
and from worrying of what is going to happen next
From forts made of blankets.
(that were never worth the clean up)
Always more complicated, and yet still never finished.
I am from homemaded pizza and cookies from Play Dough,
Getting out of bed, standing in the door way as I watched the fish
I'm from the fireworks, always with high hopes to ignite the fuse.
I'm from the forts, a place of privacy, shielding me from much more
than the rain at times.
I am from a hole in the wall, which brought Pain and turmoil between
father and son.
From dad's half empty bottle that Makes mom so unhappy.
I am from those moments- A flower trying to bloom
But only surrounded by shade
The empty space was so big, as such a little girl only two feet tall.
Drifting into a different land.
I'm a princess with my own unicorn.
Dancing around to Mickey Mousersize
I am from blue carpets that are stained with the memory of friends,
siblings and parents.
And beating up girls i just so happened to like
I'm from Christmas eve traditions and lighting the menorah 8 days
I'm from tap-dancing in the garage as the rain pours down outside,
From a front yard with a special handmade path with the handprints
of the children
I am from a family with many hardships and less grace
I'm from a house that never sleeps.
The cow always jumped the fence no matter how high it was.
From mud paintings on the side walk, And green crayon on the wall.
Being away from mom and dad for ten hours a day was torture
Living with divorce was part of my life Iwanted to forget
Sometimes walking up with dad not there
I am from the house that went to Hawai’i
The sea water washing over my body while surfing
Where memories are stored in huge file cabinets.
I'm from a mommy all alone.
I am from a sister of half blood,
from a mothers position in a sisters body.
I'm from fresh oatmeal with surgar, butter, and milk.
I am from two fathers worlds apart
I'm from hot summers in my small organized room
From riding bikes to playing with slugs
From marshmellow in my hair,
to my mom singing me to asleep.
At night going to sleep meant listening to the freeway all night
instead of music.
I'm from when my dad got home from work I had to get out of his comfy
I am from those moments
a branch that everyone climbs all over
Broken arm car ride to the hospital
Gross smells, casts
I'm a small town girl From the big sky state.
A dog that always fell down the stairs.
I am from the world only seen through the television and a controller.
I'm from sweet potatoes and toothpaste.
From the pirate ship that was just a pile of wood. secret forts that
are now gone.
I am from blueberries rising & childhood falling
And the smell of lavander and mint after the rain.
From the hidden embarassment from being the last to be picked up,
again and the smell of happiness,
the smell of mom.
From stories read nightly and the triumph of reading a book by myself.
I am from the tree swing at the bus stop, And all our backpacks neatly
waiting in line.
I'm from Lego city, where Lego me lived.
I'm from spiders in the shower and clogged drains.
I am from the 88 Plymoth Voyager with the broken air conditioning
From the crying of Jon Howard as he gets beaten up by his little
from Grandpa Roy and his Shake-n-bake Chicken
I'm from chances I should have taken, and roads I'm glad I lost
From the table in the basement that was our shelter from the tornado
To the banisters that jiggled from us sliding down it too much
Getting a bloody nose in my turquoise kitty nightgown on the old
shaggy brown couch right before bed
I'm from the squishy orange chair, which smelled like dead flowers
I'm from burning bugs on the backyard deck
From the boy down the street that called me Frosty, because my cheeks
where so pink from the cold
From bugs and drugs laying anywhere
I am from the good days when it was just us four girls.
I'm from the old smelly attic to the radio static
I am from Barbie's dream house, where Ken occasionally spent the
I'm from the parties, the barbeques, and the ruined-by-a-dog shoes.
To cutting my finger cutting my first mango
A place you were always welcome, unless you weren't.br> Adam M.
I am from neighbors with everlasting garage sales
I am from a pond frozen people ice skating all over me.
The streets with the house with the biggest basement
I'm from going to grandmass and always eating Top Ramen and skinned
apples in the dining room with the old fuzzy wall paper
From tar, soap, and painful baths.