Pages

January 11, 2011

1st poetry class.

Well, lets just say that the people in my poetry class are prettttty eccentric. 
There's some purple hair, interesting piercings and long hippie skirts but you know...to each his own!

I do kind of feel like I'm the only one who didn't smoke weed before class though haha but we got our first assignment today! We had to imitate "Where I'm from"  by George Ella Lyons. It's funny cause I'm pretty sure I did this in 8th grade and now I'm doing it again for college.

But here are both of them so you can compare. We had to keep it pretty much the same format and we had to try and use the same parts of speech for each line.

This is the original



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.

This is my version...

I am from lily twinkle lights
from rod iron bed frames and cinnamon febreeze.
I am from a keyboard under my fingers
(flat, clacking,
it sounds like the rain)
I am from the Dogwood tree,
the Bradford Pear
whose fragrance I remember
as if I’d passed one today.

I’m from Reeses and guitar strings,
from Maddox and Bouldin.
I’m from the one-in-a-millions
and the always-and-forevers,
from live it up and tone it down.
I’m from Prince of Peace
with church seats six in row
and valued morals I’ve instilled in myself.

I’m from time well spent and southern roots,
From home cooked meals and peppermint coffee.
From the pride my grandfather gained
in the Vietnam war
the hand my Dad held firm so we’d grow up right.
Behind our navy front door rests my childhood
brimming with old memories,
a snapshot of my family
the people that caught my fall and carried my dreams.
I am from this life-
gently captured in my hands-
a wispy cloud in a bright blue sky.




5 comments:

Ashley said...

Haha! I did that assignment in middle or high school, too, and then again in college. So funny. But I like your poem! Much better than mine. : )

Ryan said...

Glad school is going well. Good luck this semester!

Anonymous said...

I had to do that too! Your poem is lovely : ) but then I always enjoy your poems

Lindy Maddox said...

I loved that :) so pretty!

Anonymous said...

You have a beautiful talent! You paint a vivid picture with your words! I would love to write like that, but I guess we are each given our own special gifts!