Poems de dos.

       I am from my dad’s sweet cologne,
    sipping pepsi and watching Sci-Fi for long hours.
       I am from two older sisters and two older brothers all loving and marrying off into the world.
       From learning every trail in the back woods of my old neighborhood,
    from rowdy friends that laugh and jump and run.
       I am from a blue vinyl sanctuary down the old worn-out highway,
    and the green chalk-littered streets just outside.
       I am from a screeching screen door and my mom’s giant curls,
    from the smell of freshly cut wood and sizzling chops on the grill.
       I am from the schedule of a school day,
    the mockery of enemies, and the joyous laughter of all my friends.
       From the branches of family,
    and the soft fur of my imaginary dogs and kittens,
    from the wild wolves and “snuggly” bears my mom would never let me have.
       I am from getting up at eight in the morning,
    from the smell of roasting coffee and fresh linen before church.
       I am from riding bikes and busted arms,
    from crying tears when my brothers used to pick at me.
       I am from homeade green tea and cool ice cream on a sticky summer day,
    from the shallow pool that all the kids in the neighborhood shared.
       I am from Mary Scoggins who took my puppet,
    and the eye-candy, Justin Hartman, who took all the girls’ hearts.
       From Georgia storms and a broken home,
    my little town blossomed into a thickly trunked oak.
    Daughter of Sheryl and Greg
    Lover of Evelyn, Amaroq, and nature
    Who feels anger at those with closed minds, love for canis lupus, and heartache for those who will never make it into heaven
    Who needs comfort when she is sad, funding to make it into the college of her dreams, but who does not need pity for her past
    Who fears consequences, spiders in the bathtub, and the loss of a companion
    Who gives hope when one is down, writing to anyone she can, and loyal love to all friends and family
    Who would like to see a hundred candles on her birthday cake, who would like to see and stand in front of the Taj Mahal, and to see my nieces and nephews grow up and marry off
    Resident of the smallest town in existance

These are a few poems I wrote half-way through my tenth grade year, that I just found in some dusty corner of my bookshelf. The first one I actually kind-a like, but this does show how much my writing has improved in just a short year. It was done for a projet my teacher gave us titled “My Life” or “Who I Am”, depending on your preference. I thought it was a pretty awesome assignment!

Kyle XY tonight…and Heroes…and Secret Life(..), and Gossip Girl! GOOD LORD! I’m happy, dunno about you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: