As you can tell, I've been on a huge poetry kick. Here's one inspired by our activity in class:
I’m from the top floor corner room
Where not even a cool summer breeze could save me from the heat
And the cold of winter nipped at my toes
(until my dad installed central heating a month after I left, of course)
I’m from fresh scabs covering my knees and elbows
(the most victorious wounds coming from first place in the neighborhood roller blading races)
And two or three drawers full of grass-stained clothes
That my mom didn’t mind me wearing to church because
God gave us these resources to use, and we may as well show it
I’m from seven-minute intervals of loathing as I practice my cello
(knowing that, if I wanted to, I could play much better
But refusing to, because my mother would NOT reap that satisfaction)
And moping in silence once her footsteps finally faded, listening for the stern
“I can’t heeeeear you”
I’m from miles upon hours upon late nights of traveling to sporting events
And orchestra concerts
And volunteer retreats
And other miscellaneous extra curriculars that would be “good for me”
I’m from a 2005 Black Ford Ranger
And the joke “are you sure you don’t live in this thing?”
Due to the fact that I kept, at any time, seven to ten outfits in the back
With accompanying shoe, accessory, and make-up options
Because the twenty-minute drive to either parent’s house to pick something up was,
To say the least, annoying, so I was always prepared
I’m from late night pond hockey sessions
Fighting through numb fingers and burning lungs because
the score was 9 to 9, and there was no way I was letting my little brother win
I’m from Saturday cleaning days as a kid, scrubbing toilets while throwing a tantrum
And Sunday morning cleaning as a hungover teenager, filling my dad’s Svedka bottle with some water and scooping up forgotten Jello shots to cover my tracks
(You really didn’t expect me to throw parties while you were at your girlfriend’s?)
I WAS from the church Christmas play spotlight and the center of the youth group
until one day, the spotlight faded and my friends left me
And I was tossed out with my little brothers, being accused of my parent’s divorce
So now I’m from a new ownership of faith; a new place for my heart and soul to be
At home
I’m from 45 minute drives to the beat-knick town of Le Sueur, Minnesota which,
Much to the amusement of my friends,
Was not a trip to a very French sewer system; it really wasn’t that clever of a joke to begin with, but I would laugh lightly every time it was said
I’m from Miles, Miles, Crocodiles
And Addison Regina, Po-Po Perina
And Ally Cat and Buster and Elly Jelly Coco Ba
All with accompanying theme songs, all rights reserved for my mother
(and no, I did not receive a nickname OR theme song, because apparently 1992 was not a creative year for her)
I’m from family movie nights every Sunday
That my dad would only attend if we watched the movie “Armaggedon”, meaning I have watched Bruce Willis’ acting far more times than any one person should
I’m from broken love, but love nonetheless
And those fine fractures in my heart
In our hearts
will always remind me of
Where I’m from.
I’m from the top floor corner room
Where not even a cool summer breeze could save me from the heat
And the cold of winter nipped at my toes
(until my dad installed central heating a month after I left, of course)
I’m from fresh scabs covering my knees and elbows
(the most victorious wounds coming from first place in the neighborhood roller blading races)
And two or three drawers full of grass-stained clothes
That my mom didn’t mind me wearing to church because
God gave us these resources to use, and we may as well show it
I’m from seven-minute intervals of loathing as I practice my cello
(knowing that, if I wanted to, I could play much better
But refusing to, because my mother would NOT reap that satisfaction)
And moping in silence once her footsteps finally faded, listening for the stern
“I can’t heeeeear you”
I’m from miles upon hours upon late nights of traveling to sporting events
And orchestra concerts
And volunteer retreats
And other miscellaneous extra curriculars that would be “good for me”
I’m from a 2005 Black Ford Ranger
And the joke “are you sure you don’t live in this thing?”
Due to the fact that I kept, at any time, seven to ten outfits in the back
With accompanying shoe, accessory, and make-up options
Because the twenty-minute drive to either parent’s house to pick something up was,
To say the least, annoying, so I was always prepared
I’m from late night pond hockey sessions
Fighting through numb fingers and burning lungs because
the score was 9 to 9, and there was no way I was letting my little brother win
I’m from Saturday cleaning days as a kid, scrubbing toilets while throwing a tantrum
And Sunday morning cleaning as a hungover teenager, filling my dad’s Svedka bottle with some water and scooping up forgotten Jello shots to cover my tracks
(You really didn’t expect me to throw parties while you were at your girlfriend’s?)
I WAS from the church Christmas play spotlight and the center of the youth group
until one day, the spotlight faded and my friends left me
And I was tossed out with my little brothers, being accused of my parent’s divorce
So now I’m from a new ownership of faith; a new place for my heart and soul to be
At home
I’m from 45 minute drives to the beat-knick town of Le Sueur, Minnesota which,
Much to the amusement of my friends,
Was not a trip to a very French sewer system; it really wasn’t that clever of a joke to begin with, but I would laugh lightly every time it was said
I’m from Miles, Miles, Crocodiles
And Addison Regina, Po-Po Perina
And Ally Cat and Buster and Elly Jelly Coco Ba
All with accompanying theme songs, all rights reserved for my mother
(and no, I did not receive a nickname OR theme song, because apparently 1992 was not a creative year for her)
I’m from family movie nights every Sunday
That my dad would only attend if we watched the movie “Armaggedon”, meaning I have watched Bruce Willis’ acting far more times than any one person should
I’m from broken love, but love nonetheless
And those fine fractures in my heart
In our hearts
will always remind me of
Where I’m from.