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Where I'm From Poetry
Where I’m From
by Lisa E.

I’m from heaven,
The sunflowers that reached up to touch it.
Warm earth between my fingers,
And the smell of lavender and mint after the rain.
From soy and carob, and oatmeal,
And glopy, sticky, tablespoons of peanut butter.

I come from the foot of Math Mountain,
And every list on the Wailing Wall.
Whole-wheat sandwiches with the crusts,
Why was I ever ashamed?

I’m from a cracked and darkened vanity mirror
Stained shucked walnut husks
And the familiar creaks and squeaks of an old house.

I come from the quiet moments of solitude,
Where I discovered myself
Because I was the only one around.

Where I’m From
By Alicia G.

I’m from a green house that my grandmother use to live in, in Mexico
From where my knees were always skinned
I’m from mango trees behind my house
From seeing my brother getting bit by our neighbors dog
From being poor
I’m from a broken down roof

From a lady giving us free food, but my mom would find ways to pay her back
I’m from an uncle who would always come home drunk with no money to feed us

From taking cold showers and heating the water on a gas stove
I’m from the stairs that scratched my face, arms and legs when I fell
From the tile floors that were always cold
I’m from learning to ride my bike for the first time on gravel

I’m from a mother who did anything to have food on the table
From a sister who would always rebel

I’m from a stove that rat was hiding behind and my brother and I would try to catch it.
From watching my mother wash clothes by hand in a concrete sink outside and then hanging them up on a rope out side.

I’m from having birthday parties and having everyone come that we knew
From being grateful for what you have that is what my mother use to say in Spanish to all of us

I’m from those moments
In Vera Cruz, Mexico a country that offers so little to their people

Where I'm From
by Amber LaPraim

I am from warm rain and salty air
from "because I said so" and "comb your hair"
I am from the torment of grasshoppers, a small earthquake in my fist.
From the hidden strawberry bushes,
holding hands, my first kiss.
I am from the classic Goofy Movie, raccoons, Chucky and "please help me!"
I am from climbing on the roof, three brothers, rug burns, and scraped knees.
From the cold hard wood floors, my friend Tessa that no one else had ever seen.
I am from the smell of wood chips, the heavenly taste of homemade clam dip
I am from the tire swing hung at the church, with my little brother screaming, "Superman!!"
From my dad saying, "I'll be fine."
But with the blood, I didn't understand.
I am from the hand-built deck by my dad, fresh paint glistening in the sun.
From the now peeling and worn look,
the way it used to be is now gone and done.

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
Vivian P.

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
Phil C.

I am from the trains under the Christmas tree
I am from wrenches and sockets, to spatulas and silver wear
Jordan B.

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.
Kristen M.

I am from SLUGS, mushrooms, Oshkosh, finger paint and curly hair.
I am from Strawberry Shortcake and broken legs
Ashley J.

From feeling cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs that I never minded having.
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 old age,
and the only survivng one holding on by his endless knowledge
of everything.
Kjirsten H.

Getting to the sink with the help of a stool
Krysta R.

Riding my bike, broken pedal to broken foot
Surfing boards like bananas floating by rain-setted air
Isaac B.

But I belong to these memories
Alvina C.

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
Brandon T.

From forts made of blankets.
(that were never worth the clean up)
Heather K.

Always more complicated, and yet still never finished.
Heather K.

I am from homemaded pizza and cookies from Play Dough,
Sara O.

Getting out of bed, standing in the door way as I watched the fish tank dance.
Brianna Y.

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.
Alex M.

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
Jennifer N.

The empty space was so big, as such a little girl only two feet tall.
Drifting into a different land.
The castle.
I'm a princess with my own unicorn.
Dancing around to Mickey Mousersize
Chelsea S.

I am from blue carpets that are stained with the memory of friends, siblings and parents.
Brady E.

And beating up girls i just so happened to like
Blake J.

I'm from Christmas eve traditions and lighting the menorah 8 days a year.
I'm from tap-dancing in the garage as the rain pours down outside,
Kelsey M.

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
Lauren H.

I'm from a house that never sleeps.
Zach C.

The cow always jumped the fence no matter how high it was.
Jonathan M.

From mud paintings on the side walk, And green crayon on the wall.
Molly C.

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
Taylor L.

I am from the house that went to Hawai’i
The sea water washing over my body while surfing
Ben P.

Where memories are stored in huge file cabinets.
Lindsey H.

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
Krys B.

I'm from hot summers in my small organized room
Lakecia H.

From riding bikes to playing with slugs
From marshmellow in my hair,
to my mom singing me to asleep.
Tanya K.

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 green chair.
I am from those moments
a branch that everyone climbs all over
Towers B.

Broken arm car ride to the hospital
Gross smells, casts
I'm a small town girl From the big sky state.
Natasha A.

A dog that always fell down the stairs.
I am from the world only seen through the television and a controller.
Shane M.

I'm from sweet potatoes and toothpaste.
Marcus H.

From the pirate ship that was just a pile of wood. secret forts that are now gone.
Ryan E.

I am from blueberries rising & childhood falling
Oksana K.

And the smell of lavander and mint after the rain.
Lisa E.

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.
Morgan S.

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.
Tim W.

I'm from spiders in the shower and clogged drains.
Sky S.

I am from the 88 Plymoth Voyager with the broken air conditioning
Jordan S.

From the crying of Jon Howard as he gets beaten up by his little sister
from Grandpa Roy and his Shake-n-bake Chicken
Tyler M.

From do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti.
Sarah K.

I'm from chances I should have taken, and roads I'm glad I lost
Candice H.

From the table in the basement that was our shelter from the tornado
Lindsey K.

To the banisters that jiggled from us sliding down it too much
Lillian H.

Getting a bloody nose in my turquoise kitty nightgown on the old shaggy brown couch right before bed
Jill B.

I'm from the squishy orange chair, which smelled like dead flowers and peppermint.
Natalie G.

I'm from burning bugs on the backyard deck
Kevin F.

From the boy down the street that called me Frosty, because my cheeks where so pink from the cold
Kelsey E.

From bugs and drugs laying anywhere
Kristi P.

I am from the good days when it was just us four girls.
Eve B.

I'm from the old smelly attic to the radio static
Benjamin R.

I am from Barbie's dream house, where Ken occasionally spent the night.
Lindsay H.

I'm from the parties, the barbeques, and the ruined-by-a-dog shoes.
Jordan B.

To cutting my finger cutting my first mango
Brian Vu

A place you were always welcome, unless you weren'> Adam M.

I am from neighbors with everlasting garage sales
Kory B.

I am from a pond frozen people ice skating all over me.
Julie L.

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
Jill P.

From tar, soap, and painful baths.
Melinda B. | © 2004-2005 | contact
Osan American High School