Read the "Where I'm From" pieces by George Ella Lyon and Willie Perdomo. Click on the "comments" button below, type your emulation then hit the "post comment" button.
Writing Directions:(20-30 lines)
--Emulate the repeating, sometimes parallel structure of these poems ("Where I'm From... I am From...I'm From").
--Emulate the usage of concrete sensory detail-- the first 5 lines of the G.E. Lyon poem illustrate this.
--Use at least 2 lines of figurative language in your writing
--Write about your own life, heritage, family names, conflicts, culture, food, travel etc.
Where I'm From
By George Ella Lyon
I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments--
snapped before I budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.
Where I’m From
by Willie Perdomo
Because she liked the “kind of music” that I listened to and she liked
the way I walked as well as the way I talked, she always wanted to
know where I was from.
If I said that I was from 110th Street and Lexington Avenue, right
in the heart of a transported Puerto Rican town, where the
hodedores live and night turns to day without sleep, do you think
then she might know where I was from?
Where I’m from, Puerto Rico stays on our minds when the fresh
breeze of café con leche y pan con mantequilla comes through our
half-open windows and under our doors while the sun starts to rise.
Where I’m from, babies fall asleep to the bark of a German
Shepherd named Tarzan. We hear his wandering footsteps under a
midnight sun. Tarzan has learned quickly to ignore the woman who
begs her man to stop slapping her with his fist. “Please, baby! Por
favor! I swear it wasn’t me. I swear to my mother. Mameee!!!” (Her
dead mother told her that this would happen one day.)
Where I’m from, Independence Day is celebrated every day. The
final gunshot from last night’s murder is followed by the officious
knock of a warrant squad coming to take your bread, coffee and freedom away.
Where I’m from, the police come into your house without
knocking. They throw us off rooftops and say we slipped. They shoot
my father and say he was crazy. They put a bullet in my head and say
they found me that way.
Where I’m from, you run to the hospital emergency room because
some little boy spit a razor out of his mouth and carved a crescent
into your face. But you have to understand, where I’m from even the
dead have to wait until their number is called.
Where I’m from, you can listen to Big Daddy retelling stories on
his corner. He passes a pint of light Bacardi, pouring the dead’s
tributary swig onto the street. “I’m God when I put a gun to your
head. I’m the judge and you in my courtroom.”
Where I’m from, it’s the late night scratch of rats’ feet that
explains what my mother means when she says slowly, “Bueno, mijo,
eso es la vida del pobre.” (Well, son, that is the life of the poor.)
Where I’m from, it’s sweet like my grandmother reciting a quick
prayer over a pot of hot rice and beans. Where I’m from, it’s pretty
like my niece stopping me in the middle of the street and telling me
to notice all the stars in the sky.
Where I'm from...
ReplyDeleteBy: Natalie Kolba 8B
Because he liked the way I live and the way I walked as well as the way I talked, he always wanted to know where I was from.
If I said I was from 72nd Avenue and Ingram Street, in the most beautiful place in queens, where the humming birds fly, and the smells of nature come flooding into every house, do you think then he might know where I was from?
Where I’m from, peace is a law, and nature is observed but not touched. The butterflies roam free, never knowing the interior of a jar.
Where I’m from, neighbors remember your birthday, and sing under your window to remind you. If you loose your tennis ball in their backyard, they won’t get angry at you for coming to get it, they will treat you with brownies, and say come again!
I’m from the wind in my hair as another ant crawls by my chair. When my mom calls out, ohyat yest gotovi! [dinner is ready] and I don’t want to leave.
Where I’m from, the houses are squeaky clean as the smell of wood cleaner fills the area. I’m from the words in my mom’s throat as she says chiszch za shiebie! [clean for yourself] Not a cockroach in sight, the floor is just as good as the bed to sleep on.
Where I’m from, there is a picture of God hanging in every room, the essence of prayer hiding behind every corner, whether you look for it or not.
Where I’m from, there is direct transit into the most busy and yet most incredible city in the world, the lights of cameras’ and neon signs always visible.
I’m from the full moon in the sky that got uncovered, as the furious tornado ripped up my street. It tore the trees up like hair from a frustrated person’s head, flinging them as far as it could, like a weight lifter showing off his strength.
Where I’m from, I’m safe and secure, with only sound of the wind against the leaves of trees, and a common dog barking in the distance.
Where I'm From
ReplyDeleteLeila Menkor-Ono
Where I'm from, laughing comes easily.
Where I'm from, Music fills corners of every room
Where I'm from, hopes and dreams are encouraged.
Where I'm from, Friends stick together through thick and thin.
Where I'm from, the sun always shines and animals are always going about their business.
Where I'm from, competitiveness is strong, sometimes too strong.
Where I'm from, the streets are filled with people always running to late to go somewhere.
Where I'm from, the city never sleeps.
And I am from safe friendly neighborhoods.
I am from many cultures with amazing foods, music, and customs.
I am from naps on the sunny beach.
I am from Astoria, where every block I hear at least four different languages.
I am from childhood memories and dreams of unicorns.
I am from curiosity, patience, friendliness and love.
I am from the dependable shoes on the shelf.
I am from used up pens.
I am from the heart shaped sunglasses.
I am from the block where I learned to ride a bike.
I am from the stage, life is a never ending play of friends and enemies.
I am from the unfinished scrapbook on my desk; I am from black and white pictures of my family, to computer decorated photos of me and my friends.
I am from Starbucks mocha frappuccinos and brownies.
I am from the hours and hours poured into homework.
I am from canvas paintings from the light rose petal pinks to the dark neon blues.
I am from the tapping rain on windowsills to the silent slow snow.
I am a a snowflake in a snow globe, always fluttering and falling in a new direction.
Where I'm from the walls are splashed with grape jelly purple, sunset orange, cocoa brown, granny smith green and a strange turquoise.
ReplyDeleteWhere I'm from there are little red envelopes with a surprise inside in February,
And some shiny wrapped presents under a fragrant pine tree in December.
Where I'm from my dad is always talking to China on the phone unaware of how loud he gets.
Where I'm from one side of the room is neat and tidy while the other is decorated from ceiling to floor- head to toe.
Where I'm from the kitchen smells like mint and lamb one night and the steam from chipotle rice the next night.
Where I'm from Europe is the next summer trip... =]
Where I'm from Aunt Sue's garden shelters devilish roses that poke you this way and that.
Where I'm from Grandpa drops by to bring English letters and Grandma's sticky rice wrapped with lotus leaf.
Where I'm from if it's too late for the bus, the next thing you'll say is "Mom, can you drive me?"
Where I'm from random baking is the norm,
And cooking treats for another person's birthday is allowed.
Where I'm from cashmere and knit is my haven.
Where I'm from it's a big thing when the orange round thing goes into that net.
~Ryan Tam 8B
Where I'm from... By Andalib Khokhar
ReplyDeleteWhere I'm from the first vibration of my alarm clock starts my day.
Where I'm from everyone knows eachother.
Where I'm from I feel like an only child even though I have sibings.
Where I'm from the delhi on my block always makes me feel welcome.
Where I'm from the traffic sounds don't bother us at all.
Where I'm from I smell melted chesse from the pizzeria near me.
Where I'm from I see my best friend a block away from me.
Where I'm from the ice cream truck song walks through the window and into our ears.
Where I'm from the Christmas decorations are put up in the delhi now. I help them put twinkly lights all around the small, plastic tree and we all feel glad that we have such a friendly neighborhood.
Where I'm from my house is always colder than it is outside.
Where I'm from we get gifts for others that we barely know, but at the same time are close to.
Where I'm from even though I feel cold in my house, I have a warm feeling inside of me beacuse I'm apart of this neighborhood.
Where I’m from.
ReplyDeleteBecause he liked the way I laughed and the way I played the piano as well as the way I talked, he always wanted to know where I was from.
If I said I was from Water Street near Montgomery and Cherry, with its wind-touched summers and its winters where snow piled up on the sidewalk, where we were close to the brown projects, do you think he might know where I was from?
Where I’m from, everything is quiet. Old people sit on the blue benches enjoying the breeze and talking about the old days as gangsters and crazies swagger around the project block.
Where I’m from, there are at least seven dogs in the building. We know they’re friendly when they run over to us tails wagging with their tongues lolling doggishly and hear the sounds of their paws scrabbling madly on the sidewalk in their joys. They quickly learn that squirrels are forbidden objects, and chasing them is a no-no.
Where I’m from, Hope’s garden reaches along the building and makes a sharp swerve around the corner where it the fence joins the building after three more feet. The garden brims with life in the summer, filled with daylilies, roses, carnations, and bright yellow tulips.
Where I’m from, I can bike along the highway and get to Seaport, where the streets are cobbled and the black water reflects the lights and colossal museum boats dipping up and down in the serene water. The stores along the boardwalk are open late on weekends; during the summer the streets are clogged with tourists walking arm-in-arm.
Where I’m from, I can see the highway from my window, the sleek cars rushing past. On sleepless nights I peek through the blinds, count one hundred yellow cabs before I go to sleep.
Where I’m from, some neighbors are crappy neighbors, like the family across. They have so many children I can’t count, and the younger ones make so much noise in the mornings in the hallway with their loud wails of surprise and defiance, and I would really appreciate it if they all just moved away because they’re nice, but they’re always interrupting my morning sleep along with the neighbor upstairs who is clumsy and not to be trusted with heavy things because there are bangings at eleven at night that makes me wake up with eye bags. There’s the old Chinese woman who is troublesome because she selfishly makes us old the elevator while she throws her trash down the chute, and by then we’re late because we never left on time last year.
Where I’m from, cats stroll through the grass, well fed by the old ladies, secure behind the short chainlink fence. The black cat responds to the name of Blackie, who is unafraid of the meanest dog in the world because it is attached to a line while he is free.
Where I’m from, the sound of the waves colliding in the river is like a lullaby. Where I’m from, it’s pretty, the way you feel the fresh spring breeze after the rain and you’re walking down the cobbles on the side of the street, with no care in the world.
~Ariel Leung 8D
If I said I was from New York City, the city that never sleeps, where you can have pink hair, worn out old boots, and a polka-dotted tutu and not be known as a freak, would you know where i was from?
ReplyDeleteWhere I'm from once your 14 you go to starbucks everyday on the way to school.
Where I'm from most of the people you know drink and smoke, and it's sad to think that one of them end up with lung cancer, or need to get there stomach pumped.
Where I'm from you can find a party anyday of the week throught-out the city.
Where I'm from you can't find one block that doesnt have any trash or even a peice of gum on it.
Where I'm from you are up all night listening to the wife next door crying for her husband to stop hurting her.
Where I'm from a roof is not on the 5th floor but on the 21st floor.
Where I'm from you either take a week or 6 months to finish a book.
Where I'm from you need to hit the gym and make sure you can outrun the men that see you everyday and look and whisper stuff to you.
Where I'm from you would find yourself very lucky to find a star on the sky, most people say make a wish it's rare to see one.
Where I'm from you never walk alone when the sun hides below the horizon, if you don't have any guy friends to walk with that are pretty strong and you feel safe with, it's time to.
Where I'm from during the summer you get a new alarm clock you wish you had when there was school, we call it "The Ice Cream Truck."
Where I'm from you need to start buying blankets in the fall, because in the winter it's colder inside the out.
Where I'm from if you were on a street with others around and a man walked up to you and stabbed you with a knife and ran away with your purse, you jope you phone was in the pocket to call 911, because the people standing around staring wont.
Where I'm from your new lullaby is the sound comming from the cars honking at each other because the drivers are too stupid to realize that it wont do anything.
Where I'm from you have a chance to still fit in with others, but if you don't then that sticks with you for your whole life.
Where I'm from when you look up at a building you get lost counting the floors after 7.