Our Host: Tammi & Students
Tammi is a middle school ELA teacher, Gifted Intervention Specialist and creative writing coach for her school’s Power of the Pen creative writing team. Tammi joyfully shares her love for reading, writing and poetry with her students. Residing in Cleveland, Ohio with her husband and youngest daughter, she delights in attending musicals with her daughters and taking strolls through nature. She is the author of the contemporary young adult novel, Perchance to Dream.
Inspiration
Let’s revisit George Ella Lyon’s “Where I am From” poem, a mentor piece we explored as a community of teacher poets during the pandemic. Today, I’ll show you how my students used this poem to examine character traits and showcase their understanding of their beloved novel and movie characters.
Process
Step 1: Step into the shoes of your favorite character. Make a list of your favorite character’s attributes. List details about the story: setting, conflicts, important plot points, themes, etc.
Step 2: Using the template, create a “Where I Am From” poem about your favorite character.
Step 3: Think of opposing figures in your novel (antagonist and protagonist) and juxtapose these two characters to create a poem for two voices — What I call the Uber Challenge for my 6th graders!
Teaching Tips: I had my students explore the poem over several days. They used the mentor poem to write about themselves first before using the template to step into the perspective of their character. I did not require my students to adhere strictly to the form.
Teaching Extension:
After students have written their poems, have a poetry open mic. Allow students to share their poems and peers to guess the characters revealed in the poems. Or use the open mic as a replacement for book talks/reports.
Student Poems
Whewe i am fwom
By Eva
Inspired by George Ella Lyon & Text from My Universe
Fwom my univewse i am one
One pewson without feeling
From a woom filled with the people i loved most
Fwom stuttewing and useless Rs
And a useless dad who left before i was bown
I am fwom a grave of loneliness and tewwow
Covewing me in a cloak of invisibility
I am fwom the speech classes and the well
Fwom my mom who loves and cawes for me
Fwom kindness and pancakes in the mouwning
Fwom the lovely memories of my youth
I am fwom the silence in the night
Fwom my family and fwiends
Fwom the memory of being stuck in the well
Suwwounded by dawkness
I am fwom those moments
Where the Universe was mine
Where I Am From
By Reagan
Borrowed and adapted from George Ella Lyon & Text: Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief
I am from Camp Jupiter ,
from humans and gods.
I am from water
I am from the pen,
Disguised as a sword, from which I have grown.
I’m from swords and shields,
From Sally and Poseidon
I’m from the warriors
and the adventurers,
from waves and currents
I’m from power and intelligence.
I’m from Friends and enemies ,
From villains and heroes,
from Tthalia and Luke.
On the opposite sides of the passage
sat monsters,
and a cave of horror,
waiting to end our journey soon.
I am from those moments
where death is seemingly certain,
but is always averted and conquered.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
I am from Oklahoma.
I am from potato soup and bedtime prayers.
I am from Alan Jackson and Little House on the Prairie.
I am from watering the garden and reading under covers.
I am from “use your manners” and “I love you.”
I am from a family who pushes and supports and loves.
Character: Sanguinius from 40k.
I am from my sons
From gene seed and goblets of blood
I am from the dirt of terra destroyed by my brother
Cracked and smoldering (Horus had burned the city away)
I am from the wings my father gave me
The fangs he gave me haunting me as well.
I’m from blood and art pieces
from astartes and my favorite sons
I’m from the Lamenters and chapter masters
From “For the Emperor” and “For My Brothers.”
I’m from he sundered my brothers soul \
With a twist of his claw
And my body on the floor
I’m from Dante and Horus
One to keep me going
And one to put me in the ground
From the life I lost
To the spirits I’ve left behind.
In the warp is my soul
Where I revive my son
And My golden armor grows old
My wings no longer spread
Did this have to be the end?
Nathan,
First off, I love that you wrote this about a game: too cool! I had to look it up — it looks great!
I also loved all of the onomatopoeiac words in here that gave this poem such great movement and passion.
I loved how the last stanza changed the beginning word of the first line — arresting — and I loved the rhetorical question at the end.
Great poem!
Tammi, this was a tricky one. I went through so many options and ended up with a Harry Potter “Dramione” fan fiction.
Leviosa, not leviosa.
I’m from muggles & mudblood and
I’m from crimson & gold.
Bitchy, blond, bombastic.
I’m from Death Eaters, dark magic,
I’m from silver & green.
I’m more than “blood” and
More than my colors, more than
What the words belie.
I’m from wherever
But where I want to be is
Wherever you are.
I wrote a sort of “Where I’m From” poem without saying “I’m from”
The day I felt the paper
Its creamy, smoothness
I knew that this was destiny
The day I put pencil to paper
It was the world
My imagination had no limits and the paper didn’t either
Sure, call it a power complex
But it wasn’t
It was a little boy escaping from school and drama
To a world of heroes and fairies
My parents ears were worn thin
Raw and practically bleeding
Stories of triumphs and failures
Reflecting my own hardships
To this day I sit and wish
That I can go back to that world
The world of pencil and paper
William,
Boy, do I get this. I used to write as a child, tween, teen…and all on paper. I still have some of those stories. Now the keyboard has taken the place of the pen — and, unfortunately, I love the change (it’s also easier on my arthritic hands). But I sure do miss pen and paper. Beautiful tribute to them.
William, I love how different this poem reads without the “I’m From” beginning each line. The line “My parents ears were worn thin” is especially touching. Family can be present for the most formative parts of our growing and becoming.
Tammi, I was thinking about the prompt all day yesterday, but never had a chance to write to it.
I’m reading Huck Finn and Percival Everett’s James with my classes right now, so I have Huck and Jim on my mind.
On the Raft
[Home] is this earth that we have explored,
theese humans who, despite their flaws,
we try to love and those who try to love us.
-Nikki Giovanni
I knows I’m supposed to turn Jim in–
t’ain’t fair to Miss Watson that he just
stole off like he did,
but sumthin inside of me says to a body
that just ain’t right.
I ain’t never had no daddy, really,
and Jim ain’t no father to me,
but I know in the dead of the night,
when he’s ‘posed to be asleep,
He’s awake the whole time
keeping one eye on the stars
and one ear on the river,
making sure nuthin’ bad happens to me.
And that sure seems like something
a daddy would do.
Dave, I loved this spin on the story, having Huck openly comment on how Jim functions as a father figure to him — loved your use of dialect to enhance the authenticity of this monologue.
Tammi, thanks so much for today’s prompt! I’m posting at 12:03, lol, as I’m on vaca in Texas visiting my bestie, who is such a crazy character, himself, that my poem is about him, one of my favorite “characters.”
“Pacing It”
I am from bold bridges.
From Italian food, cheesy pizza
I am from the mountains of Alleghany,
green, lush, quiet.
I am from the Kinzua Dam and Stony Lonesome,
looming large above Warren, Pennsylvania
and fueling my imagination.
I am from family love, limitlessness, and tolerance.
From Rita and Amy
I’m from laughter and hunger that’s fed.
From “you can’t be who you are” from foes and “We love you as you are”
from family.
I’m from Catholic cushions and intolerance, moving to spiritual wonder and to
more welcoming spaces.
I’m from the hills of Pennsylvania,
from lasagna and red wine.
From crazy uncles and aunts;
from dad, who wasn’t around long enough
before heaven claimed him,
from stacks of mementos,
reinforcing continued family mantra that
“We’ve got your back.”
What a wonderful poem depicting your friend. Love the mantra at the end! Enjoy your trip!
Wendy, such a rich and moving tribute to your bestie. I linger on many lines – like “I’m from laughter and hunger that’s fed,” for the literal meaning of an Italian family’s amazing food, and figuratively, as in hungry for “imagination” and “welcoming spaces.” I think of my own “crazy aunts and uncles” – some of whom were crazy-funny and some plain ol’ crazy. I feel the loss of a dad gone too soon…most of all, this poem is ribboned with great love. I hope you’re having a wonderful time together!
Wendy,
Love that your bestie is one of your favorite characters. What a great celebration of ffriendship. The image of “bold bridges” gives me the sense that he and his family are fearless and resilient with “from laughter and hunger.”
I love how you chose your friend as your favorite character. I especially appreciate how much knowledge you have about him as you write it.
Tammi, thanks for hosting. I’ve been driving all day so coming late to the site.
I’m a gap toothed voluptuous beauty
who’s been around the block a time or two
I love fresh young men in my bed
meek, mild and wild to please
who have the good sense to fall over dead
before I do
variety is the spice of life, you see
meet me at St. Thomas Beckett’s Shrine
if you know what I mean
Barb Edler
25 April 2024
Barb,
You chose one of my heroines. I love the Wife’s sexual freedom. Have you read Chaucer’s source material for her tale and prologue? I used to include it when we read her tale.
Barb,
This is such a fun poem. It’s been a minute since I ‘ve read Canterbury Tales. Your poem takes me back to college and my trio to England.
Barb — This is such a fun poem. It has been a minute since I’ve read The Canterbury Tales, but this line really brings the Tales back “I’m a gap toothed voluptuous beauty” Your poem takes me back to college and our trimester in England where we took a trip to Canterbury.
See what I mean, Barb? You are knocking the balls out the park this month!
I had ZERO recollection of this but loved her and wanted to read more. Thank you, my fellow commenters, for sharing where this is from, and for reminding me that I paid no attention in English classes at UCLA. I may need to read Canterbury Tales again thanks to Barb. 😂
👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽
Tammi, thank you for the interesting prompt! This was really fun to do!
I’m from a mirror
that births truths
and makes you face them
I’m from a mirror
made by meddling gods
to create soldiers
I’m from a mirror
meant to be a pawn
for their useless wars
I’m from a mirror
made in your image
meant to battle with you
I’m from a mirror
that you shattered
making me ‘incomplete’
I’m from a mirror
and I have wings
that let me soar freely
I’m from a mirror
that births truths
which means I’m the real you
Marisa, your repetitive line works effectively to build a clearer picture of your character. I love how you end this one. I really enjoyed the “meddling gods” detail. Clever poem!
Marisa — love your use of the mirror to reflect true character and “that births truths.”
The concept of battling one’s own truths “I’m from a mirror/made in your image/
meant to battle with you” is powerful.
Tammi, all day long I thought about a where I’m from poem, but by the time I got to the writing, a where i’m from Haiku was all I had in me!
Where I’m From
My nose knows black sage
fragrant, earthy purple blooms
marks this place as home
Photo on my blog: https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2024/04/25/from-black-sage-npm24-day-25/
I’ve had the same feeling a couple of days this month! I love how the sage marks home.
Kim, great metaphor! Thanks for sharing your blog photo!
Kim —
“fragrant, earthy purple blooms” — beautiful. Haiku can say so much in so few words. Love this!
Tammi,
thanks for this prompt and your students’ wonderful poems. Getting a very late start—starting at bedtime, but enjoying thinking about the characters I’ve gotten to know through reading.
Reading
I am Sethe and Paul D
our shadows holding hands
at the fair
I am Anne with an E
enchanting Matthew and Marilla
with my talk of the white way of delight
I am Lily Mae Watson
the elevator operator
relying on intuition
I am Samuel and Adam and Lee
discussing the Word of God
marveling at the meaning of Timshel
Sharon, I like your approach, as it was hard to choose one character to write about. Your firm works well with your choices.
Sharon,
I love how your piece is not over one character but multiple characters! I love the references to Beloved and Anne of Green Gables.
Sharon — I like the incorporation of a variety of characters in your poem. Yet, another twist on “Where I’m From.” I think this would work well as a summer reading list recap.
Thank you, everyone for your poems and your interaction with my students’ poetry. They loved reading your comments. I really enjoyed reading, guessing and sometimes reminiscing about books. I’m also adding new novels to my TBR list! If I’ve missed anyone tonight, I will catch up tomorrow. But for now, I’m signing off.
If you really want to read a good book, I suggest that you read “The Strange Case of Origami Yoda”. It is like if Roald Dahl and Rick Riordan worked together to create a mystery. It is written in a case file format and includes the story of a presumably autistic boy and how he created a living origami puppet.
Tammi, you have made me a fan of George Ella Lyon’s “I’m from” poem by putting a twist on it.
I’m from the cupboard under the stairs,
From Bertie Bott’s and Butter Beer
I’m from Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Candle-lit, multi-storied, and circuitous
I’m from the Whomping Willow,
A supernatural force to be reckoned with
I’m from Christmas at the Burrow and hand-knitted sweaters
From James and Lily Potter
I’m from the purest of a mother’s love and the undying devotion of friends
From “Your parents died in a car accident” and “The dark lord killed your parents.”
I’m from a muggle household in Little Whinging
I’m from Godric’s Hollow
Pumpkin juice, custard tarts
From capturing the Golden Snitch
The Mirror of Erised and Marauder’s Map and Invisibility Cloak and Nimbus 2000
The vaults of Gringotts
Defense against the Dark Arts.
Ah, we’re getting your reading list, Katrina! Your use of alliteration helped to make this poetic rendition flow.
You’ve captured Harry’s world perfectly, Katrina. The line “From ‘Your parents died in a car accident’ is a really good line.
Katrina,
I love your piece! It has so many references to the Harry Potter series and I could visualize each one of them!
Katrina,
I smiled from line one through to the end. We need more “Defense against the Dark Arts” these days, so I’m hoping folks will find their inner HP and fight on. Also, this sparks a memory of ordering each book in advance for my son.
Katrina — “I’m from the purest of a mother’s love and the undying devotion of friends” — love this line! These are my favorites themes in the Harry Potter series.
Katrina, I love your highlighting of this character I grew up with. It’s really fun reading highlights as I go through your poem.
I know that I don’t have to make excuses, but life right now is absolutely bananas. I am, however, still showing up every day. Thank you for hosting today.
I am from
Dayton
as in Ohio
from the buckeye
and the Miami Valley
I am from
blue collar workers
as in laborers
from Frigidare
and General Motors
Donnetta — I am also from the buckeye state — Cleveland. Grandfather worked in construction, uncles in manufacturing and steel industry.
What’s the quote, something like, “Ninety percent of success in life is just showing up”? So, let me not only thank you for being here, Donnetta, but, also, tell you that I really enjoyed the mirroring you’ve crafted in your poem!
Hi, Tammi! Thank you the prompt today. I was excited about the prompt early in the morning because I used to do very similar activity with my high school students and in the lower-level of survey literature courses in college. Your students are amazing, and I enjoyed their thoughtful poems, but the third one had me at “Maybe we aren’t so different [After all].”
I wanted to choose a character that many, hopefully, know. So I based my poem on the main character from Daniel Keyes’s novel Flowers for Algernon.
From the Place of Progress and Regress
I am from Beekman University in New York,
Where dreams soar like skyscrapers
And corridors echo with brilliance,
Yet I struggle to spell simple words.
I am from Miss Kinnian’s lessons,
Her kind and caring nature,
From Mr. Donner’s family bakery,
Where I think I have true friends,
Until I pull “another Charlie Gordon”
Yet refuse to admit the joke is at my expense.
I am from Dr. Strauss and Professor Nemur,
Where emotions rule one’s conscience,
While fat ambition drives another,
I am from the lab’s sterile instruments,
Where the scalpel carves hope into my mind,
Yet leaves me with doubts, fears, loneliness.
I am from an IQ of 68 to 185
In a mere spin of few months
I am from the maze of memories,
Where innocent childhood whispers
Blend with conscious adult regrets,
Yet faith keeps me searching for solution.
I am from the city of progress and regress,
Where streets wind like the maze
Where Algernon’s invasive intellect gives in
To the flaw in a grand scientific design.
I am from the living heart,
Where love and pain entwine,
Regardless of my brain capacity.
………………………………………….
Please, bring some flowers to Algernon
When I am gone.
Oh, I am loving reading poems about favorite novels. This novel had an influence on me in middle school. It is so powerful, and your lines bring back all the important characters and events. These lines:
and that whole stanza are so sad.
And “where love and pain entwine” Golly, I’m going to have to add this to my reading list again.
Oh, yes. Your last lines still have the power to bring tears to my eyes. These lines were so beautiful:
I am from the maze of memories,
Where innocent childhood whispers
Blend with conscious adult regrets,
Yet faith keeps me searching for solution.
He never gave up. I loved teaching this story. Thank you.
Leilya,
Beautiful. You have transported me to a time long ago when I read this heart-tugging novel and fell in love w/ Algernon and possibility. That was in the early 1970s. My favorite parts of your gorgeous poem are the contrasts beginning “Yet” at the end of each verse. Thanks for reminding g me of a favorite book from my youth.
Leilya — Flowers For Algernon — I remember this book having a profound effect on me when I read it years ago and your poem and these lines —
“While fat ambition drives another,
I am from the lab’s sterile instruments,
Where the scalpel carves hope into my mind,
Yet leaves me with doubts, fears, loneliness” — remind my why it was such a heartbreaking novel.
Leilya, those last lines are unforgettable – the power of love triumphs over any brain capacity! This is moving, and what a perfect choice! Oh, how I cried in this book.
Leilya, I love this book and I so enjoyed all the character and plot details you were able to capture in your poem. I really enjoyed “I am from the living heart,
Where love and pain entwine,
Regardless of my brain capacity.”
Compelling poem!
Wow Leilya. Others have pointed out some of my favorite lines. This is beautiful for Charlie. I only read this book for the first time a couple years ago. Simply amazing.
Hi Tammi and students! Thank you for today’s inspiration and twist on Where I’m From. Coincidentally, my students just finished their Where I’m From poems last week and I look forward to them sharing tomorrow. I don’t think I’ve ever thought to write from a character’s point of view. I found myself realizing how much I know the character when I began to compose this poem. This was fun!
I will respond tomorrow, we have awards at school tonight and I don’t do well with a 12-hour school day and no time to rest in between. 😩
I’m From The Land
I’m from the stories
Mildred D. Taylor’s father
And grandfather shared
I’m from her wildest dreams
Of her ancestors
Someday having freedom
I’m the black son of Edward Logan
And his enslaved lover,
My mother Deborah
From being property at birth
To a son, emancipated
To loving my sister, Cassie
I’m from being bullied by Mitchell
To teaching him how to read
And to our brotherhood as teens
I’m from moving out on my own
To beating the segregated systems
I’m from finding the Hollenbeck land calling me home
I’m from burying my best friend
To falling in love with Caroline
I’m from tragedies that could have broken me
I’m from having nothing but dreams
To owning 400 acres
I’m from a legacy of resilience
My name is Paul Edward Logan
©Stacey L. Joy, April 25, 2024
Stacey, this was the first Mildred’s book I read when I just came to the U.S. I fell in love with her writing and then read Roll of Thunder. You captured Paul’s character so well. The last stanza with “I’m from a legacy of resilience” is a powerful ending.
Stacey, what a powerful “biography” of Paul Edward Logan. I have not read The Land yet. I feel like I need to though, because i see it’s part of the Logan family series. I need to get that. Wow, well said:
Thank you, Denise. It’s the prequel to Roll of Thunder so you definitely have to read it. My students usually read it in the fall and then we follow up with Roll of Thunder. I usually can finish off the year with the sequel, Let the Circle be Unbroken but it looks like I’m running out of time this year. 😟
Thanks, Stacey! I will definitely. I see that it was written a generation later after Roll of Thunder. I’ll be curious to compare the two.
Stacey,
This is beautiful. The Land is one of my favorite books, and my son is currently reading it. As I scrolled down, I saw Mildred Taylor, and I immediately was sucked into her world. I love how you have represented the story in this!
Stacey,
“I’m from tragedies that could have broken me” & “I’m from having nothing but dreams” — really captures the essence of this amazing story and the resilient characters. I read Roll of Thunder Years ago after being introduced to it in a student teaching experience. After reading your poem, I want to reread it and share it with my students.
Stacey, I really like the title of your poem. Your three-lined stanzas build a detailed illustration of your character. I really enjoyed your last stanza and especially “I’m from a legacy of resilience”. Powerful poem!
Hello Tammi and Students! I got a little “squirrley” with this prompt today. Enjoyed it and had fun.
I am from the forest
walking to Grandmother’s
in my red cape
and basket of sweets.
I am from the forest
with secrets,
eyes watching me,
and a voice that questions.
I am from the forest
where Grandma’s house
is a refuge.
I stop to pick flowers.
I am from the forest
My eyes are big,
my voice is deep,
and a drooling
mouth is big enough.
I am from the forest
where I chop firewood
but hear screams
and run with my ax.
I am from the forest
where an ax
(more threatening than teeth)
saves the day
and chases the wolf away.
Hi, Susan! I love your “squirrley” poem. You managed to represent all characters from the Red Riding Hood. The second stanza is the one that builds up a suspense, and I like it. I also like the “wolf” stanza. This is a fun poem!
Susan, it looks like you had fun with this Little Red Riding Hood poem. I like the repetition of the first line throughout. Hooray: “the day / and chases the wolf away.”
Susan — Thanks for your fun and “squirrley” poem. Love all the different character perspectives’ interspersed within your poem.
Susan, you’ve done a terrific job taking us to the forest with you and experiencing some of the scary things there. Your use of strong verbs and specific nouns left us with no doubt that the ax you mentioned is needed for more than chopping wood! Thanks for the adventure!
Tammi,
Thank you for hosting and for offering your learners a creative way to explore characters they meet in stories. Today I subbed in a MS class where the teacher is having her students write “Where I’m From” poems similar to your students’ poems. Lately I’ve been thinking about Hawthorne’s TSL and how timely it is once again. You may have heard the SCOTUS oral arguments regarding Idaho’s viscous anti-women law.
——
“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.”
— Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
Men condemned me for
their sins, imprisoned my soul
to theocracy,
juxtaposed church and
state to justify their self-
determination.
They stood me on a
scaffold, marked and shamed me with
a crimson symbol.
I fucked their story,
gilded their ignominy:
Pearl, my jeweled revenache
They control our bodies—still
stitch religion to our beasts.
Glenda Funk
2-25-24
#StaffordChallenge
100/366
#VerseLove
25/30
This is precisely what is happening! Brilliant poem, Glenda.
Glenda, the Hawthorne quote you chose from the novel is golden. It is the truth. And your line, “Pearl, my jeweled revanche” is just masterful!
Oh, yes, I have not read this novel since high school, and your poem is a great invitation to do so again. I remember loving Hester and Pearl so much. Thank you for the reminder. My favorite lines:
Yes, she did! (Is that last word French?)
Glenda, I love The Scarlet Letter and taught it in my college American Lit survey course focusing on the hypocrisy of the Puritan society, which was established by the people who came to the New Word for freedoms and change yet began with jails and public shaming.I agree the story is quite relevant today. Your first stanza is a strong conviction and gives a clear voice to Hester. The line “Pearl, my jeweled revenache” is exquisite!
Glenda–so true. so frightening. Everything we fought for has been taken away. Religion stitched to our breasts, indeed.
Truth! The Scarlet Letter was one of my favorite novels when I was in high school. I haven’t thought about the classic in a long time. It is terrifying that this –“They control our bodies — still/stitch religion to our beasts” …” is relevant today.
Glenda, your words, “They control our bodies—still stitch religion to our breasts” could not be more fitting of our current climate.
Glenda, this book was a favorite in high school. I loved the era, the story, the message, the lessons so much of what I notice today in the world is the underpinning of the sins of others and the lack of reasoning that we all have things to hide. No one is an appointed letter stitcher, but plenty forget the lessons of this novel. I need to revisit this book and enjoy it again!
Sucha a powerful poem, Glenda. I loved so many word choices and details you shared. Nice job of tying in this classic with how it connects today. Loved your second to last stanza and “Men condemned me for/their sins” Yes, they did. Brilliant poem! Gorgeous Canva piece, too!
Glenda, this is one of the most memorable books I read in high school. Thank you for bringing me back to it.
Thank you, Tammi! This was great fun. There is so much more I could write…
all happy families are alike
I am from
shining grey eyes and thick lashes
low-cut black velvet dress
very small, slender hands
ringlets of curly hair
slipping out
proprietary air of men
invisible married women
spinning waltzes mazurkas
infidelity passion confessions
desire
this powerful sense of
I cannot do otherwise
winter winds blowing transformation
black clouds foreshadowing
salty air of Petersburg
cold facades
homely ears propping up hats
moroccan chaises in lonely gilded parlors
shunning walls closing in
gasping for air
squealing brakes on freight trains
I am from the 1800s
I am now and always
So enjoy the naming of places and the senses of place that resist precision and are yet so familiar like “winter winds blowing”. But there are key words here that narrow in like “black clouds foreshadowing ” and “cold facades” which I read as country and individual.
Great poem.
Maureen,
Excellent choice. My favorite line: “I am now and always,” which marks a classic for many of us. Your title is perfect and needs no additional explanation. What I notice most is the atmosphere you create w/ the blowing wind and “gasping for air,” such important elements of the novel.
Maureen, this is beautiful. It feels cold. I like “black clouds foreshadowing” as the novel does too. And “shunning walls closing in / gasping for air” and that last line: “I am now and always” is so expansive. I don’t know if it is from something about Anna, but I think it’s true for all the characters in great novels. They live on passed the time in the setting.
Thank you for this journey into the world of Anna Karenina, Maureen! I guessed from the first stanza. The tone is sad and hopeless. Tolstoy could write the grim stories. These lines were and are still often true in that society seemingly stuck in medieval “morality” still:
“proprietary air of men
invisible married women
spinning waltzes mazurkas
infidelity passion confessions
desire”
Maureen,
Love the mood and picture you paint.
“winter winds blowing transformation
black clouds foreshadowing
salty air of Petersburg” and “squealing brakes on freight trains” really make me feel as if I am with Anna in Russia.
she just needs some space, my dad’d say, sipping tea, trimming toes, humming
Gregorian Chant on the front porch: hairline cracked by thorny roots of Rose Bush
siena, verdant, wanting blood/crimson so desperately in blooms: blades spike,
mark Sister’s shins coming home late from her date: evidence courtesy of Rose Bush
honor thy father and mother: we settle into pews turning from the Crown of horns
to kneel under Father Duffy, nodding to Mom that we’ll make confession on Wednesday
who’s the main character here, who’s the villain of the story: Rose Bush’s thorns or
maybe the roots we’ve cultivated in the plotted scenes of where this family’s from
Your italics are captivating…and that “my dad’d say”…love the couplets filled with so many Rose Bush descriptors ‘siena, verdant, wanting blood/crimson” and “cultivated” …I cannot name your book/character, but I am absolutely spellbound.
This is my family’s book. I am playing with a way of writing Where I’m From with a fairy tale/fantasy tone.
Sarah, wow, I can see that you did capture the tone you were striving for. Is this going to be part of a verse novel, perhaps? The villain as “Rose Bush’s thorns or /
maybe the roots we’ve cultivated in the plotted scenes of where this family’s from”
“Crown of horns” is so interesting and surprising. You got several of your family members introduced in these few couplets.
Sarah — I could picture these scenes –“the front porch: hairline cracked by thorny roots” and ” … verdant, wanting blood/crimson so desperately in blooms” so beautifully rendered.
I also love your idea of writing a family “Where I’m From with a fairy tale/fantasy”
This poem definitely has the feel of fairy tale/fantasy.
You are posing a dilemma-like (insolvable) question in the end of your poem, Sarah. I like the way your phrase it. The word play is amazing throughout the poem. Maybe, “where this family’s from” is just from humans. Your poem makes me think about people with all their strengths and flaws, where at least once in life each person can (may) be a villain in actions or intentions. Thank you for making me think!
Who Am I?
I’m a lady from Texas back in
the late 1800s
I taught
helping
students to read, write and
do ‘rithmetic
Many suiters approached me but I wasn’t
smitten until
I met Sam.
He fixed
my windows, my floor
and his spirit met mine.
The fact that we had different backgrounds
and different colors
didn’t matter to
either of us.
But the hate and prejudice
of the men in power
destroyed Sam, my love and my heart
I left the school and children behind
sought money and became vengeful
I robbed, kissed, and killed
all the bad men I encountered.
I stole, buried my loot and
laughed my way to oblivion
forever looking
for my Sam.
by Seana Hurd Wright
Inspired by a novel my class is reading currently.
Oh, the confession here in the stanza of “I left the school” and “sought money” toward “became vengeful.” This with the “laughed my way” it at once main characters and villain.
I am fascinated! I cannot guess this book…I am wondering what your students think of a tale where the teacher –
“left the school and children behind
sought money and became vengeful
I robbed, kissed, and killed”
Maureen, its Holes by Louis Sachar
Seana, what an interesting couple. It seems this novel is based on a true story, right? I’m sure this book is holding the attention of the class. Wow, that last stanza of what set her off in vengeful oblivion is so stark and harsh, as it makes sense to be!
Seana — This sounds like a fascinating character and a fascinating story. “But the hate and prejudice/of the men in power/destroyed Sam, my love and my heart” –heartbreaking.
Reading this with my students too!!
Seana, what a poem! I had to research the novel and the character because I didn’t grow up in this country, but now I know. Thank you for that! Your poem clearly shows how society can turn good people into villains.
This project was probably really fun for your students! I love the Percy Jackson poem. I was glad to see a sci-fi/fantasy example because those books have such imaginative settings and characters, and I used a sci-fi character in my own poem.
Pretty fun prompt.
Feel free to guess, but don’t use the internet!
Across the desert and through a mountain
He chased the man in black
Nothing could stop him from reaching the tower
Dark and tall in a field of roses
Holding universes within its walls
Capable of bending time itself.
Friends he made and would sacrifice
Chasing this stealer of dreams
Through worlds and shimmies
Until, finally, the Man from Gilead
to the dark tower came.
Love it! With this poem, it is obvious that you have not forgotten the face of your father. Thankee Sai! Long days and pleasant nights!
I have no idea what book it is, but each line is interesting and fascinating. I can’t think of a tower except in LOTR. I don’t think it’s from Gilead. “Friends he made and would sacrifice / Chasing this stealer of dreams” Powerful.
I cheated. I googled it. I enjoy Stephen King’s books but have never read The Dark Tower.
I really like the contrast between dark and color in this line — “Dark and tall in a field of roses and this line “Holding universes within its walls” was really cool!
Where I’m from – I just read Eleanor and Park so this was fresh on my brain.
Park,
Where I’m from the world is Gray,
The lights are out, the insects stay
The rodents chatter in the broken walls
Throughout the house I hear snarly calls.
Where I’m from there’s never peace,
Children run free on the streets.
The parents are gone but only in spirit
Screaming and calling where all can hear it.
Where I’m from the world is cold
Until I met you in the story told.
Eleanor,
Where i’m from the world is lonely,
tons of people but always phony
I never knew what the world could bring
or how beautiful the birds could sing
Where I’m from the world was dark
Begging for your cheerful spark
I need you now, to light the way
And always brighten up my day.
Imagine this being written as letter from one character to another.
Beautiful, Katherine! So sensory, and having two characters writing letters to each other is a pretty cool framework 🙂
Katherine — These poetry letters are perfect! I loved this book, and I think you’ve really captured the characters of Eleanor in this –“I need you now, to light the way
And always brighten up my day” .and Park in this “Where I’m from the world is cold
Until I met you in the story told.”
Spot on, Katherine, I don’t know the book, but I love what you did here. It sounds like it has a good outcome for the two characters. Good job on the rhyming couplets.
Katherine, I am intrigued. Now I have to read Eleanor and Park.
Katherine, I love this book. It sweet, sad, and painful at times, and you captured both characters so well. Beautifully done!
Tammi, I enjoyed reading your students poems this morning. Eva, your poem really hit home to me because I went to speech in elementary school and couldn’t say my r’s. My brother too! I could hear your poem so clearly as I read it.
And Reagan, your last two lines are really powerful–where dealth is seemingly certain. I got chills!
I wrote two this morning. My first I wrote similar to b.r. crandall (Thank you!) and took one memory to write about. My second I tried to rhyme and it didn’t really work, but I’m going to work on this one since I’m reading The Hobbit with my students right now.
Haute Alpes, France, (1992)
I stand at the Route Des Aubins
High on the mountain pass
Look back to the villages of my
Grand Fathers and Mothers
Where lies the hat of Napoleon.
Blood runs the river between it
Where the boys of one village
Were called to the front lines
By Napoleon himself
All died
Every
One.
Somehow one must have survived
Or escaped
Because my blood runs there too.
At I turn my head, look down the twisty road
Sprawling green hills lay below
Church spires reach toward me
Beckoning
Feet to flee to them
Where my ancestors went to pray
When life was hard
Like it is.
Below me the city of Gap
Are my cousins I am just now meeting
Welcoming
Raise your eyes upward
To the cliffs of Ceuse
To all the ones
Who have gone before
And are revealing
Who I am.
Bilbo
I am from comfort
A hobbit hole in the ground
Filled with rooms and rooms
Plenty to go ‘round.
I am from a world of second breakfasts,
Sometimes three
Where no one goes adventuring,
Especially me.
But in my veins runs the blood of Tooks,
Or so I’m reminded
I’m called on adventure
But I’d like to stay blinded.
I am from comfort
But, even forgetting my handkerchief, I leave it
To face trolls and goblins, wood elves and wolves
Whose lives are nothing like a Hobbit.
I have moments of regret
Until the giant spider I kill
Save my friends, the dwarves,
Trudge, starving, uphill.
Somewhere on my journey
The comfort of home is forgotten
I’m finding adventure
The world I am caught in.
And so I brave on
To The Lonely Mountain’s Great Hall
Defeat the dark dragon
Discover destiny’s call.
I absolutely love the Hobbit poem. You don’t need to rhyme, btw 🙂 It’s still good
Emily — Thank you for both of your poems. Your memory of your visit to France was vivid
Whoops, posted before I was done.
“This stanza was vivid and a powerful reminder of lives lost:
Blood runs the river between it
Where the boys of one village
Were called to the front lines”
Love the Hobbit poem. I feel this stanza really captures the Bilbo —
“Somewhere on my journey
The comfort of home is forgotten
I’m finding adventure
The world I am caught in.”
I think your poem would be a fantastic hook to introduce the novel.
Tammi, you’ve got us writing an argumentative poem in first-person? What challenge. Well, it’s something many of us have dealt with all our lives. Here’s mine. I’d asl my students what is the assumption of each speaker about race? Who changes in this “story”)
I’m From
I’m from Africa.
No, you’re American.
I’m from the Elephant Ear.
No, you were born right here.
I was born in Michigan.
Then how are you from Africa?
Look at my skin.
Yeah, and…
The skin I’m in tells my ancestry.
The state I was born in tells my accent
The education I’ve had tells my degree
So, why are you challenging me?
I am who I am, so deal with it!
Who’s not dealing? You’re appealing
Just the way you are,* Anna Jamar!
*(BTW, my name is Anna Jamar Small Roseboro.)
Anna — I love how your first person argument challenges assumptions.You really capture the importance of embracing oneself — “I am who I am, so deal with it!” people are complex and don’t fit into neat little boxes.
I never knew about yourJamar name, Anna. What a great sounding name and now I am curious about it’s origin. Love the truth in the poem and the description of all the “baloney” you have had to hear from people.
Thanks for a great prompt, Tammi. One of my favorite writers is Isak Dinesen, who wrote Seven Gothic Tales and Out of Africa, among other things. I think she was a fascinating woman.
For Isak Dinesen
By Mo Daley 4/25/24
I am Karen, from Denmark.
I’m from a time when men were men
and women were women,
but I was always my own woman.
I’m from falling in unrequited love with a Baron
and settling for his twin (big mistake!).
I am from Kenya, the rhinoceros spring
of the Ngong Hills
a place where coffee vehemently refuses to grow.
I am from daily doses of mercury and arsenic
to treat the gift my parttime husband gave me.
I am from a tender love later in life
that came crashing down almost before my eyes.
I am from solace in writing
gothic tales, fiction, and memoir
while being snubbed for the Nobel Prize
perhaps because I was a boss Danish bitch
who answered to no one.
Mo– Sounds like Dinesen is a force to be reckoned with —
“perhaps because I was a boss Danish bitch
who answered to no one.”
Mo, Karen does sound like a boss. Wow, wow, wow:
That is something else! But the next line, I just want to enjoy “I am from a tender love later in life” and not hear about the crashing down of it. You have intrigued us!
Great prompt today, Tammi! What a wonderful challenge for your students.
I went with a fave book of mine . . . The Shoemaker’s Wife by Adriana Trigiani. It focuses on two characters–Ciro and Enza–so I thought I would do the same.
Love and Loss
“Beware the things of this world that can mean everything or nothing”
Ciro Lazzari
I am from tragedy
among the sharp Italian Alps
in the village of Bergamo.
I am from a father who has no choice
but to head off to the Land of Opportunity
to work and send money back to us.
I am from a collapsed mine
with him buried under the rubble
stopping the money flow.
I am from a broken mother
who sends Eduardo and me
to live at the convent
with sisters who try to provide.
I am from Godly men
who can’t keep their vow
and when I see their abuse,
I get banished to America.
I am from the cobblestone streets
of Little Italy
and the dank, musty smell of leather.
I am from the trenches of the Great War
and mustard gas and murder
“Life is not about what you get, but what is taken from you. It’s in the things we lose that we discover what we most treasure.”
Enza Ravenelli
I am from the rugged mountains
of Schilpario
I am from baby sister Stella dying
from fever
and my heart being yanked
by the gravedigger.
I am from tragedy and leaving
for America with Papa to send money
back home.
I am from stitching dresses in Hoboken
and a fortuitous rise
to the Metropolitan Opera House
as a seamstress, becoming Enrico Caruso’s
favorite.
“Sometimes we get our hearts broken, only to have the right person come along to mend them.”
We are from the Italian Alps
with mountains so harsh
traversing them is a daily challenge.
We are from gnocchi and freshly-churned butter
and roasted chestnuts.
We are from Five Points and Mulberry Street
in Little Italy with its cheeses and fine fabric
We are from trying on other loves but discovering
they are as poor fitting as a too-small shoe or
a dress altered by the wrong seamstress.
We are from nostalgia leading us back to Italy
but opportunity taking us to the white-capped lakes
of northern Minnesota
We are cobbled and sewn
together in spite of
poverty and death
sadness and death
war and death
illness and death
“La famiglia eterna”
~Susan Ahlbrand
25 April 2024
Susan, I love the voices you bring, the way you structure this and tell the story. Oh, the cobbling and sewing ~~~ the common threads of all of us that transcend time and circumstance, these are the wonders of reading, and the worlds where they transport us. You’ve captured it all here and sparked an interest in these characters and the book. Oh, Little Italy….I can smell the leather and taste the cheese and wine.
Susan — I love the way your poem unfolds like a the story, starting in Italy and moving to the US. I just found another book to add to my TBR list.
This last stanza is so beautiful!
“We are cobbled and sewn
together in spite of
poverty and death
sadness and death
war and death
illness and death”
Oh, Susan, this book sounds heartbreaking and yet hopeful. You have done a beautiful job of tying together so many details in these characters’ lives.
Eva, I’m fascinated by the speech of your character. that grave of “tewwow” wow. I enjoyed reading your poem with the /w/ sounds. Your poem makes me love that character.
Reagan, you have captured Percy Jackson in your poem. I so loved the power of those last two lines:
“where death is seemingly certain,
but is always averted and conquered.”
Noah, you took the Uber challenge and wrote for two voices. Wow. It is a powerful comparison, and the last “Maybe we aren’t so different after all” is thought-provoking.
I am Demon Copperhead
(After George Ella Lyon and Barbara Kingsolver)
I am from somewhere in Virginia
Southern Appalachia
from a two-hungry teen mom and a drowned father
whose demon was spawned by starving hearts
from a single-wide rental
and a soon drug-satiated dead mother
From the Dog of America getting kicked
I am from F-ed up foster care,
child labor, and a dog urine bed
I am from snakes and hillbillies
(and with up-yours pride I wear the label)
From lovers of my broken life–
from Maggot and the Peggots
from June and Emmy
and from Dori and Angus
from my youth being used up way early
and my brief football stardom
I am from art pencils and markers,
the release found in creating
I am from busted knees, pain killers,
and sports doctor malpractice
I am from lost boys in a Dickensian tragedy,
from Fast Forward and Swap-Out
from big corporate greed
who blow the tops
off our mountains
who strive to remove the cooperative land economy
of my once-thriving people
and green growing place,
from the companies who demand
we use the taxable cash system of the city
I am from Redneck superheroes, like Tommy Waddles
I am from the moments marked from the get-out to lose
but turning out happier-ever-after than most
————————————————————–
Tammi, this is a great prompt for sharing about a character.
Your prompt was a good way for me to remember and think about this memorable character from Demon Copperhead, which I finished this week. I italicized the words that came directly from the book, phrases I had highlighted on my Kindle.
“I am from Redneck superheroes, like Tommy Waddles” yes, definitely.
One of my favorite parts of this novel was when Demon meets Angus. Great scene. Great poem, Denise.
Great job capturing the novel in your verse. I liked that book way more than I expected to.
Denise, this book has been at the top of my book list a few times and I still haven’t read it. I am more than ever fascinated with the story line and all those things that happen. Your last line reassures me that this is a book worth reading – – – and I will. Thank you for sharing this!
You have such amazingly succinct descriptions in your poem, The details are incredible, Denise. Another book for me to read.
Denise,
You chose a brilliant, heartbreaking character. I love the way you call out corporate greed and amplify Demon’s voice. How many towns have been destroyed through Capitalism’s nefarious underbelly? And while I love the line “I am from F-ed up foster care,” I want you to use the word! 😉 Of course I love hearing Demon say how important art and creating are to him. I’m glad you picked Kingsolver’s masterpiece. I thought about it and am glad I didn’t because you honor Demon and Kingsolver so well.
Denise — I just read this book a couple months ago. It was heartbreaking and so eye-opening. You’ve captured all the pain of Demon Copperhead in your poem, in these lines especially –“From the Dog of America getting kicked/I am from F-ed up foster care,” and this “from my youth being used up way early.”
I really loved this book; I couldn’t put it down. You have written a fabulous I Am From book for this. I am struck by the lines,
and know that this creativity was such solace for this traumatized character. Beautiful to remember this.
“from a two-hungry teen mom and a drowned father
whose demon was spawned by starving hearts
from a single-wide rental”
This book has permanently rooted itself in my head. Wonderful poetic retelling!
Denise, I’ve read Demon Copperhead and you’ve paid tremendous homage to Damon, and to those who’ve suffered similar circumstances, to whom Kingsolver dedicated the book. Too many don’t overcome…as your last borrowed line shares. This is magnificently crafted!
Denise, you capture so much about Demon, who I feel is one of the best title characters I have ever met. You pull so many apt details to reveal him so well.
Denise, wow, you’ve captured so many details to show your character personality and experiences. Place is such an important detail here, and you’ve nailed.
Hi Tammi & Students!
Thank you for all the helpful directions and options/extensions. I’ve offered the I Am poems as options for students while reading a novel but never this. Great idea. The Uber Challenge sounds so neat! I like how many similar lines are in the one by Noah, makes a great point.
Eva, wow, deciding to write this with ws replacing rs is creative. “From a woom filled with the people i loved most
Fwom stuttewing and useless Rs”. So meaningful.
Reagan, I will have to share your poem with my sixth graders as many of them are fans of Percy Jackson too and will appreciate.
Thank you so much for the prompt. It allowed me to look back at my favorite book that I’ve read so far this year: The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBride which I cannot recommend enough. I didn’t think much of the first ten chapters – a lot of character description, even of minor characters but it gets good after that. So good! My poem does contain some spoilers but even though it’s long there is so much more that happens that is not in the poem, so many heartbreaking and beautiful things. As I was writing it and decided to not say everything about Dodo, it seemed like I was writing a book review or like a trailer or something that might make a person want to read the book so hopefully it does do that for someone! Ok the end.
Dodo
He is from the stove that blew up and killed his hearing when he was nine
From his mother’s life ebbing away when twelve
From children like him
From his Aunt Addie and Uncle Nate who said, “God opened up your heart when He closed your ears, boy. You got a whole country in there.”
From dodging the police so he isn’t taken away
From the sleeping in the cold theater to hiding among the colors of the rainbow in Bernice’s backyard and then going to crippled, childless Chona who said, “Bring him home.”
From faking that he liked to read, for her.
From being sensitive, necessary, sunshine, a toast to life, a boy living a life.
From balloons, comic books, fishing, marbles, bottle caps, chocolate, jelly apples, roasted chestnuts, peaches sunflowers 🌻
From the sound of his own heart cracking when Chona had a seizure and KKK Doc took advantage of her
From the first time he touched a white man being when he protected Chona from him
From nothing to do but run
From railroad tracks
From sweet blackness like the silence that lived inside his head
A silence so real.
From Pennhurst State Hospital for the Insane and Feeble-Minded
From playing dumb, being stupid, not saying a word, from knowing that’s the only way
From light in a land of darkness
From the friendship of Monkey Pants
and his Uncle Nate’s eyes burning with dark, murderous rage.
From the mind of James McBride.
Wow. I love this and I loved this book also. It is my favorite adult read of the year so far. You included some really powerful lines from it that I remember being moved by (Sweet black like the silence that lived inside his head) There were so many powerful characters in the book and you captured Dodo so well in these lines. How you put the line “nothing to do but run” and then your line From railroad tracks and the next two lines. Powerful.
Also, Angie, I forgot to add that I LOVED the first 10 chapters BECAUSE of the character descriptions, but I think a lot of people had a hard time getting through them and didn’t finish the book because of them (My book club group anyway). I told them to keep going!
Yea I’ve heard many gave up because of those chapters. What a shame. I knew I had to keep going!
Angie, my aunt just sent me this book and told me I had to read it. Her book club finished it a couple months ago, and I’m the usual recipient of all things amazing between the covers of the book. I can’t wait. Thank you for sharing the impact and all it meant to you. I can’t wait to hear the aunt’s words:
From his Aunt Addie and Uncle Nate who said, “God opened up your heart when He closed your ears, boy. You got a whole country in there.”
Curse you, Angie, for putting another book on my TBR list! Your poem does read like a book trailer. It’s fascinating!
OMG. I just went to Audible to see if it is available and it’s on my Home Screen as a suggestion!
🩵
Angie — Just put this book on my TBR! I can’t wait to read this. Your poem is so compelling, especially this — “From sweet blackness like the silence that lived inside his head” and this “From light in a land of darkness” — Wow!
Angie, this was a good reminder of this book. I like your assessment of those first ten chapters. I listened to the audiobook, so I was often lost. I did enjoy the ending more, though. There were really well-developed characters, as you so eloquently describe Dodo.
sand sand sand
sand I sand
sand am sand
sand Paul sand
sand Muad’Dib sand
sand Atretides sand
sand from sand
sand the sand
sand planet sand
sand Arrakis sand
sand and sand
sand I sand
sand have sand
sand sand sand
sand everywhere sand
sand I’m sand
sand talking sand
sand everywhere sand
sand everywhere sand
sand places sand
sand where sand
sand the sand
sand sun sand
sand does sand
sand not sand
sand shine sand
sand everywhere sand
sand if sand
sand you sand
sand get sand
sand my sand
sand meaning sand
sand sand sand
sand sand sand
sand sand sand
_________________________________________________________
Thank you for your engaging and creative prompt and for sharing your students’ mentor poems with us, Tammi! I just saw Dune: Part Two recently and that may have informed my decision sand of sand what sand to sand write, lol.
everywhere! Cue eye roll and chuckle. Thanks, Scott.
I haven’t seen Dune:Part Two, yet, but I was able to catch on pretty quickly what your poem was about. I think students would love to see this as a mentor text. I found it kind of dry, LOL.
Lol! This is brilliant! I saw Dune 1, but I haven’t seen Dune 2 yet. I imagine a lot of sand. Thank you for making me smile!
Scott, I haven’t seen Dune (gasp!) but I take it that sand is a major character-?!? :):) I loved literally reading between the lines here! Astoundingly creative, as always.
Thanks for the teaching tip. I chose Quenton Cassidy from Once a Runner.
I’m from miles of trials
and trials of miles.
From the secret:
the slow erosion of
the soles of
my running shoes.
I’m from early morning runs
through the mist
with nothing but cattle
and the slow easy
breaths of my teammates.
I’m from a cabin in the
woods with a grass track
and endless revolutions
around that worn out
oval.
I’m from the building
bubble of anticipation,
the knowledge that it’ll
hurt, and the joy of testing
the limits of my
endurance.
When all is said and done:
the clock won’t protect you.
It won’t lie about you
or to you.
Channeling the runner in me (of yesteryear) and loving everything about this poem. I still wake up in the morning thinking I’ll go five or six miles, knowing that if I do, innards will fall out of me. So I walk, instead. But I feel everything in these words and celebrate it.
I’m from a cabin in the
woods with a grass track
and endless revolutions
around that worn out
oval.
i really love this stanza. It could describe my old school.
The power and truth in this clock personification:
“When all is said and done:
the clock won’t protect you.
It won’t lie about you
or to you.”
I mean it’s simple but a beautifully worded truth.
I’m feeling the miles, figuratively and literally. Feel like this can be a metaphor for life.
That last stanza made me chuckle. The clock does NOT lie!
Nice poem about running. I love this phrase: “bubble of anticipation,” I like the second stanza with “nothing but cattle and the slow easy breaths of my teammates” A lovely image.
Thanks, Tammi, for the prompt. I took liberty to alter the “where I’m from” ubiquity, to play on ‘where I once was.’ The character prompt was intriguing to work with. Perhaps on ‘the opposite side’ sits all of our ‘monsters’ and ‘caves of horror.’
(Thanks, Toto) London, 1992
b.r.crandall
I still wait outside Elena’s house,
wondering about Sicilian pizza,
the kind my Ukrainian grandmother
used to make on a camp stove
while the stars bathed in her lake.
Nostalgia always explodes in my face,
burns the flesh, & leaves its scars…
(I learned from Alfredo,
mentorship is blinding).
I went forward.
I never looked back.
I was always left behind.
(& when I returned
everything would change).
Life isn’t like the movies
….it’s harder.
But we were just 19
living the “real world:
a year before it debuted on MTV.
There were no cameras.
We met in London lines of Prince Charles,
knowing Piccadilly Square belonged to us all.
It was the first time I picked up a pen to write.
I still play the village idiot well,
listening to the orchestration
of Ennio and Andrea Morricone,
(well over 100 days & nights).
I’ve memorized the soundtrack, the bildungsroman,
before the priest edited the story away.
I wouldn’t mind those film reals, though,
the ones where I have someone
who splices the edited scenes
for all the kissing,
the romance,
a collage
of yesterday
that brings us to tears.
…like that day
we were unable
to get out of our seats.
I wouldn’t mind those film reals, though,
the ones where I have someone
who splices the edited scenes
for all the kissing,
the romance,
a collage
of yesterday
that brings us to tears.
This is beautiful!
Wow. I really enjoyed reading your poem this morning. I went back and re-read these lines about 5 times-
I went forward.
I never looked back.
I was always left behind.
(& when I returned
everything would change).
For some reason (probably because I just saw Willie Nelson in concert last night) it made me think of the image of “one step in back of themselves and their slow-moving dreams” (My Heros have Always Been Cowboys)
I like the image that conjures up. It’s sad, and I relate.
And your last two stanzas! Really beautiful.
Also, I was 19 in 1992 also!
I love this approach and the tone you created, especially this line:
“while the stars bathed in her lake.”
Bryan, these snips of London take me right there – – a place I have visited three times in my life, loving it more each time and never, not once, being in the eye without seeing Peter Pan flying with John and Wendy Darling. You bring me to Piccadilly and to the lines of waiting, to Covent Garden and holding the pen:
There were no cameras.
We met in London lines of Prince Charles,
knowing Piccadilly Square belonged to us all.
It was the first time I picked up a pen to write.
I think of A Separate Peace, the bildungsroman, and wish that I were there in Europe sitting among the pigeons and people watching. Your verse takes me places.
Bryan — This poem is absolutely beautiful. From your first stanza —
I still wait outside Elena’s house,
wondering about Sicilian pizza,
the kind my Ukrainian grandmother
used to make on a camp stove
while the stars bathed in her lake —
The nostalgia your feel for your formative years is expressed so vividly. I feel like I am watching the movie of your life unfolding in clips.
So many compelling images, Bryan – and how true, life is not like the movies, it’s harder, but nevertheless often accompanied by an amazing musical score…
Where I Be.
I am backwoods, uptown, no-good, hillbilly,
College educated, reformed, serious-not really,
Dignified countrified wanna -be ganster,
Storytelling, crybaby –history teaching prankster.
I’m from dirt roads and city lights,
I Work early and party nights.
Bass fishing, rabbit hunting,
Turkey calling, deer grunting,
Trail hiking, mountain climbing,
Bike riding, abstract rhyming,
Junkie. Gym rat, football fan,
Grass cutting, pine-straw man.
Chop wood for fun, and sell I too,
I’ll take the grilled, not the bar-b-que.
I’m from the briar patches and the mountain top,
My favorite artists are Everlast, Chevelle, and Tupac.
I’ll float the Flint and jump off the bridge,
Flip off the rock and climb the ridge!
Ride my bike through every alley in town,
Skate off curbs and 360 around.
Ill write a poem then haul some hay,
Work-out, cuss like a sailor then pray.
I’m the mixture of renegades and Cherokee,
Got lost in dark, but now I see.
Coached every sport they offered me,
Still fighting with my complacency.
Where I’m from, is not my reality,
I long for creativity.
I haven’t designed my destiny,
My road keeps turning in front of me!
Creations of imagination control my sanity,
When it arrives, it will be my finality.
But Which of the two is it?
I won’t stop, I’ll never quit!
You’ve written lyrics to a country western song here!! I love the contrasting pieces of this, and that last question.
I was just going to write that! Some great country song lyrics in here for sure! I love this line–I’m from the briar patches and the mountain top
I know the rock. I’ve jumped, canoed, kayaked, floated that Flint…..but never climbed that ridge. Fun! Will you come to our new songwriters’ group on the square in September? The 21st night of September……Earth, Wind, and Fire will kick us off. Bring this poem.
heck yes, count me in!
Boxer — Love this! Especially the way you layer the fun “Storytelling, crybaby –history teaching prankster” with the serious “Still fighting with my complacency/Where I’m from, is not my reality,/I long for creativity/I haven’t designed my destiny.”
This is my teacher. Mrs Belko is a slay queen.
I am Nate Wright
I am from Rackleff, Maine
But I am from many other places
I am from doodling in my notebook
Instead of obeying the Godfrey
My burning flame of misguided love
Sending my life to ash
I am from drooling over Jenny and Penny and Many, Many others
I am from hating Artur
With the very passion
That I use
To admire him
I am from supporting my friends
I must admit the feeling isn’t mutual
But most of all
I am from trying to be better
And to surpass all others
William, I love your description of your teacher. I’ve come to find out it’s true for me too. Mrs. Belko is a slay queen.
I love your description of Big Nate here. Well done! These lines jumped out at me today.
“My burning flame of misguided love /
Sending my life to ash”
Such a strong image.
Omg why do I feel like a fan girl, feeling so special to be able to comment on a poem of a student of Mrs. Belko?! Awesome.
i am drawn to these lines:
“I am from supporting my friends
I must admit the feeling isn’t mutual”
a sad reality of life, but the honesty is real. Great poem!
William — You slay, too! Love the way you’ve captured your character through “doodling instead of obeying” and “drooling over” all the girls and “hating” while admiring. This truly demonstrates the complexity of your character.
How to choose? This is such a rich prompt that I started ten different poems in my mind and discarded them. Thank you for this, Tammi and students!
I Am From
with thanks to Munro Leaf for one of my favorite stories
I am from loving the smell of fresh flowers under a cork tree
I am from a green pasture filled with fighting.
I am from not belonging in a world of strength and head butting,
where machismo was the code.
I am the odd one out,
the exception to a rule.
I could only watch in bemusement
as I sat and smelled the flowers
and they fulfilled their destiny.
I am from an accident, a bumble bee.
I am from ending up in the wrong place,
at the wrong time,
in an arena filled with violence
that I did not understand.
I am from looking like something that I am not,
choosing my true self
and just smelling the flowers
in the lovely ladies’ hair.
I am from peace in a cruel world.
I am from staying alive
because I would not fight
against all those angry men.
I am from sitting under an oak tree,
smelling the flowers, just quietly.
GJSands
4-25-24
From being “in an arena filled with violence /
that I did not understand” to “sitting under an oak tree, / smelling the flowers, just quietly.” This shows so much characterization and love the way you ended it like that.
Gayle, I am intrigued by this character, sitting quietly under the oak tree smelling flowers. I love all the lines but really relate to
I am the odd one out,
the exception to a rule.
Oh, yes! Poetry reaches out and brings us to identify with those we don’t fully know, to relate and feel understood.
Gayle — I am unfamiliar with the story “Munro Leaf” but your vivid description of the character and his/her emotions make me want to know more. Love these lines and the powerful message of being true to oneself –“I sat and smelled the flowers/and they fulfilled their destiny” and “I am from looking like something that I am not,/ choosing my true self “
Munro Leaf was the author–this is The Story of Ferdinand the Bull. I did not mean to mislead everyone–this is where assuming that EVERYONE knew this book was a mistake. Interestingly enough, the book has been banned in many countries and was burned by Hitler. Its pacifist message was seen as a political statement. I didn’t know any of this–I just loved when my grandmother read it to me!
Here is a reading of it:
Gayle, of the many, many lines I love, these I love best:
I am from peace in a cruel world.
I am from staying alive
-this is a captivating poem!
Oh, Gayle, I love this sweet poem by Ferdinand. It is a great old story, before its time really. I loved hearing it as a kid and reading it to my own kids.
You really captured his personality.
Gayle,
There are so many pastoral images to love in your poem. I’m smiling thinking about this lovely flower-smelling bull who eschews fighting. Such wonderful details in your poem. I need to get my grandson a copy of Ferdinand the Bull.
Tammi, thank you for hosting us today. This idea is truly amazing – – the Where I’m From twist is a powerful and creative way to use poetry in the classroom to deepen understanding and build relatability to characters. I rewrote my own Where I’m From poem today in the traditional sense and then went back and wrote one from the perspective of a character. It has a lonnnnng way to go to sound the way I want it to, so I created an etheree based on Elie Weisel’s Night that can be read top to bottom or bottom to top. Today I’m going to our high school to work with students on writing Holocaust poetry, so I appreciate this idea to add to the choices for them as they culminate a unit with poetry.
Who I Am
To the hell of a concentration camp
To the death showers of Zyklon B
To separated families
To long lost baby shoes
To Hitler’s nightmare
To starvation
To ghettos
To hate
I
Am
From love
From living
From just like you
From family meals
From falling deep in love
From dreams and aspirations
From the freedom to live and choose
From the tribe of Father Abraham
From my ancestors’ strong family tree
We are starting Night next week, Kim, so this poem is very timely for me. The double etheree works so well for this. I continue to wonder how you create what you do in such a short amount of time in the morning.
Even before reading the top of your post, Night and Elie Wiesel really echoed throughout this poem. The “to-from” structure really encompasses his horrific journey, but lines such as “from my ancestors’ strong family tree/from the tribe of Father Abraham” are a beautiful homage to heritage.
I see the wings here, Kim. The hope. Many are led towards evil, and we must remember where we’re from to guide other what is good in this world.
Wow.
This is an amazing structure idea for a poem about the contrasting parts of who a person is. So cool that you are going to a high school to work with students about Holocaust poetry.
Kim — I love the visual to this poem. These lines —To the death showers of Zyklon B/To separated families/To long lost baby shoes — truly capture the horrors of the Holocausts and Weisel’s novel. The way you contrast the horrors with the hope is truly beautiful.
Kim,
Your poem has the appearance of wings, of freedom. I’ve been thinking about Night often as we witness a rise in authoritarianism and antisemitism. (and, of course, anti-islamophobia) Each line echos past wrongs as well as righteousness. This is a gorgeous mentor poem for the students you worked with today.
Kim, the double etheree is beautifully crafted, for all of the horror, suffering, and hatred. The most haunting line to me: “From just like you.” Over and over, humankind forgets exactly that. The rising above – on these word-wings of the heart – is profound.
Kim, what a powerful to and from poem. I like how you mentioned we could read it top to bottom, too, which I did. It is very biting that way, ending with “To the hell of a concentration camp”
Before I even think about my poem—these are so, so good! I loved each one differently— but the voice in Eva is inspired!! Thank you for this prompt. Now I have to pick my own character.
Wow, what an interesting prompt, Tammi! I’d love to use this in my English class next year. I really had fun with this one. I will play the guessing game. Can you guess my character?
Where I Am From Poem
A character poem . . .
Most would say I am from a quaint
French village, provincial to a fault.
They also say I am from a crazed father,
Delusional in his quest of knowledge.
The same voices echo It’s too sad
About her mother, if only a woman . . .
If only she would marry, they chorus,
If only she didn’t hide a pretty face in pages.
They do not understand I am born
From ink and paper. I do not hide
Behind heroes, but instead, breathe
Their courage into my lungs, my
Blood boiling with adventure. I am
From faraway lands I soar to
On magic carpets, dragons, a Pegasus.
My tongue dabbles in languages I dream
Of knowing. I am born from invention,
A mother’s love for stories, for her daughter.
It is where I am from that will allow me
To slay my dragons, conquer lands,
Tame the beast who torments, unfurling
Beauty in his form like rose petals.
Jordan, you produced an amazing poem about one of my favorite
Disney Princesses. Thanks for this Beauty. I love “They do not understand I am born
From ink and paper. I do not hide.” Phenomenal !
Blood boiling with adventure! Great words! Oh yes Beauty for sure!
Jordan — Love these lines “On magic carpets, dragons, a Pegasus./My tongue dabbles in languages I dream.” I am on this adventure with Belle.
They do not understand I am born
From ink and paper.
Belle would love this description, and this poem!!
Ah, yes – – Belle of the books! Beauty inside and out, who can look past beastliness to see true love. Gorgeous, and I love the couplet format here. That rose at the end leaves the scent of love lingering.
-I am singing, Jordan! I love these lines:
They do not understand I am born
From ink and paper. I do not hide
Behind heroes..
Brava!
I attached my poem because I could not get the alignment to work in the textbox.
Ashley,
I just met with my students whose poems are posted, and I wanted them to see how our community interacts and responds to each other’s poetry. I asked my students to help me craft a response and here is what they said:
“I am intrigued by the images in this poem and want to read this book”
“Cool lines — ‘lonely, loveless,/cold as ice’ ”
“I want to know what the “Black and the Mechanical Hound” is.
“Wait, I think I am reading this book right now!” — My student holding up Fahrenheit 451.
LOL. I love that “Wait, I think I am reading this book right now!” as your student holds up Bradbury’s book.”
Tammi,
Thank you so much! This brought tears of joy to my eyes. Today is my birthday, and this is a lovely gift!
Ashley, this is great! I love “the look” of it, and I think you’re spot-on with your character descriptions/motivations!
Tammi, I love this twist on I Am From poems. It’s such a creative way of allowing students to get to know a character. And your mentor texts here show such depth of that understanding. Kudos to you! As I considered today’s prompt the first book that flashed into my head was Goodnight Moon! What? I kept coming back to that beloved bedtime book that finally I gave in to it and here’s my draft for the day. Not sure if this is funny or deep! Hehe
I am from
the perfect bedroom
Where walls
Are green
And a telephone waits
I am from
a place of idealism
where three bears sit
and the cow still
jumps over the moon
I am from
a place of harmony
where kittens patter about
while grandma knits
in her rocking chair
I am from
peace and serenity
where bedtimes comes quietly
as whispered voices
say goodnight
Christine,
Your first stanza made me wonder if you would start peeling wallpaper or have a room to your own. I was delighted at the whimsical nature that followed!
My favorite, favorite bedtime story! I can still recite i. You captured the mood of this lovely book perfectly. I feel comforted, just sitting here. Good night…
Christine — I read this book hundreds of times to my children. One of my favs. I was transported into the book through your words and truly felt “peace and serenity/where bedtimes comes quietly/as whispered voices/say goodnight.”
Oh Christine, you brought me back to the nights I read this to my niece and nephew. Tears. Misss that. Thank you.
Christine,
This is lovely. Goodnight Moon is a book for the ages, one I enjoy w/ my grandson as I did w/ my children. Goodnight, poet friend.
Christine, my little Micah (age 2) loves this book – my husband and I read it over and over to her. Idealism, harmony, peace and serenity – you have found just the right words for it!
Tammi, this is a truly enchanting prompt. Each of the students’ poems is captivating – Eva’s amazing rendition of the speech issue, Reagan’s clear and haunting imagery, and Noah’s embodiment of both Batman and The Joker, who realize they are “not so different after all.” Each is pure joy to read – I can imagine the students’ joy in crating and honing these poems to shine as they do. Thank you all for this great adventure today!
Where I Am From
After George Ella Lyon & Texts: The Chronicles of Narnia
I am from war-torn London
and a long ride on the train
to the countryside
from dead blue bottle flies
in the windowsill
and soaking rain
I am from a sister
and two brothers
who don’t believe me
when I say I’ve discovered
another world
(and a new friend)
I am from forgiveness
of betrayals:
my new friend
whom I sought to save
from a bewitched fate
of stone
my brother
who tormented me
who mocked me
who fell in otherworldly battle
until I paused
to heal him
until for him
the Lion atoned
I am from the lamppost
In the wood
from an open door
In the spare room
—Spare Oom, my new friend
the Faun calls it,
a Daughter of Eve
from the bright city
of War Drobe
I am from a ship
sailing in darkness
where nightmares
come true
I am from the whisper
of the albatross
who led me through:
Courage, dear heart
—it is the Lion’s voice
I’d know it anywhere
coming on the wings of prayer
leading me ever onward
and upward
to the world
he’s prepared
I am from
crowns and jewels
honorable rules
I am from laughter
and overcoming
dancing on and on
with my beloved friend
the Faun
Fran, I’ve read of your love of The Chronicles in previous posts so I wasn’t surprised you chose these characters. And you captured them so lovingly. “I am from crown and jewels honorable rules” sing out to me.
I think it’s time I pick this book back up and share it with my grandchildren!
Fran,
The Lion the Witch and The Wardrobe was my favorite book as a child. Love the details here: “from dead blue bottle flies/in the windowsill/and soaking rain.” Thank you for your poem and reminder of why I love this book so much.
Not only do I love everything about his poem…this choice, Fran, I love the way the single lines pinch the rhythm with poignancy: “leaving me ever onward” – “Courage, Dear Heart”.
I’ve been thinking of Narnia much these days. Thank you for your creativity this morning.
This detail amazed me:
“from dead blue bottle flies
in the windowsill
and soaking rain”
and the rest of the poem took me back to this wonderful book. Thank you!
Fran,
I’m drawn to the musicality and pace of your poem, especially the lines “I am from / crowns and jewels / honorable rules.”
I recently read Grief is for People, a book I’ve mentioned to several people as it helps me understand the way we define ourselves through things we treasure. Your poem honors that idea.
Ah, Fran, what glorious lines here about such a classic wonderful series. I love these short lines so action and detail-packed. One of my favorite sections:
I love the rhyme of jewels / rules too. And “I am from laughter and overcoming” I just keep wanting to add all these old favorites to my reading list. Beautiful!
Fran, I predicted either Chronicles of Narnia or Charlotte’s Web. I love all the detail and rich imagery (war torn London) of your poem. The ship sailing in darkness where nightmares come true is haunting – there is no escape on a ship. Add darkness and it just makes it all the more terrorizing. I can see you dancing on with the faun – what lovely music, forgiveness of betrayal, laughter. I love that you use words onward, upward, overcoming – resilience!!!
Noah, from Flush by Carl Hiaasen
(this is the novel we are reading in class right now)
I am from these Keys,
these dotted islands
jutting out
off the toes of Florida,
born kicking in the car
on Highway One
I am from Paine
I am from Donna
I am from Bobby
I am from Abbey
I am from the desire
to make this world
a better place
I am from mangroves,
and ocean currents,
from dinghies and
Loggerheads
I am from following
your heart to do
the right thing
I am from, as my mom says,
what goes around,
comes around,
from Karma and from
Poetic Justice
— Kevin
Kevin, while I am not familiar with this book I am drawn in with your final line. I’ll have to check out this book!
Kevin,
I haven’t read Flush but have read Hoot and am familiar Carl Hiasen’s writing. I really enjoy the way your last stanza captures the essence and message of Hiasen’s novels. So much truth in those words.
“I am from, as my mom says,
what goes around,
comes around,
from Karma and from
Poetic Justice”
Kevin. I loved this book. You capture the essence of it perfectly.