Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

I Am From...

I am from adventure, exploration
Heat and grass.
From the blistering summer sun,
Cracked earth and a splintery wooden porch.
I am from dried grass in my field
And collecting bugs in jam jars.
I am from questions, wood smoke, yarrow,
From a snow covered ground and lady bug plants.
I am from imagination
And hours spent under a porch.
I am from the pumpkin’ and tadpoles,
Love and hate, and a hide away.

I am from dusty arena’s and horses.
From swaying forests that go on and on.
I am from bodacious, wilderness, the untamed
And plains of nothingness.
I am from daydreams and no T.V.
From pie, sitting alone, Santa Anna’s
And sunrooms.
I am from layered bloomers, kueamaka lake,
Hikes and climbing boulders.
I am from stickers in a drawer, Summer Dog
And fairy pancakes for a circle.
I am from Quarts, tree climbing,
And hours spent in the dirt.
I am from magic, make believe and water.

I am from unknowing, new family,
And culture.
From traveling the world, castles,
Millions of gardens,
And natural wonders.
I am from Christmas, Thanksgiving,
And homemade Hallow’een’s.
From meditation, quiet, and inner peace.
From the theory learn fast,
Understand more, sand paper letters,

Animals and respect.
I am from paint and a chisel,
“Up On the Roof”,
And nailing stump.

I am from The Ranch, late nights and
Business calls.
From parks, museums,
And antique Japanese stuff.
I am from sun, San Diego, and the beach.
From surf comps, sand, pools and tandem.
I am from Spanish, Horatio,
And goldfish.

I am from spicy, plain and piles.
From crunch, fresh cut carrots, and salad.
I am from tastes, picky to perfection and
New flavors,
From free range chicken, Mexican rice and fajitas.
I am from fud, toad food, and Fred.


I am from cold nights, long days, wet muddy fields
From apples thrown from a window.
I am from pelting rain, the earthy smell of dirt and rot,
From green and hedged lanes.
I am from endless fields, amazing sunsets
And hidden beaches.
From Blackpool, pubs, trees
And the Dart.
I am from dripping leaves, moss
And seasons.
I am from the Moors, warm rooms,
And ironing beads.
From radiators and the gurgles,
From smelly pens, jet lag
And story tapes.
I am from the Dawn Treader, Pippin and Tom.
From trampolines, seed-copters, war memorials,
And slow worms.
I am from Ballet, Dartmouth baked beans on toast,
And prawn and cocktail.
I am from muddy walks, farm roads and headlands.
From tea shops, Dartmoor ponies, B&Bs
And from heather, gorse, and bracken.

I am from the earth, connecting
In every way I can.
A leaf collection, broken porcelain,
A pound found,
Under a rainbow.
Everything everywhere I am connected.
A twin in a Berber village,
My mark on a distant mountain pine.
I have roots everywhere.
A million faces of family
And friends,
That fade with time and then
Reappear with provoked memories
And deja vué,
Only to fade away into
The corner of my mind.
A thousand summer days,
that dissipate into
The tapestry of my life.




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback