I Am From MAG

July 29, 2008
By WriterDancerLover GOLD, Fontana, California
WriterDancerLover GOLD, Fontana, California
15 articles 1 photo 25 comments

I am from
My green blankey and
Climbing out of my crib
From playing mermaid in the bathtub.

I am from walking my dog,
And the noise he made when I step on his tail.

I am from my sheep nightlight
And Blue’s Clues and the Berenstain Bears.
I am from spinning until
I can’t tell where I am and
Seeing the world upside-down.

I am from long days at school
And hurrying home to watch Pokémon.
From chocolate-chip cookies at
Grandma’s house.

I am from July days in the pool
And running through the sprinklers.
From my imaginary friends and
The games we used to play like
Doctor and patient and teacher and student.

I am from trips to the grocery store
And that time I fell out of the cart onto the
Sticky linoleum floor.

I am from the tap tap tap
Of my tap shoes that one week
That I decided to be a dancer.
I am from trying new things.

I am from rainy days
And board games,
Saturday cartoons and Cheerios.

I am from walks on the beach
And the sand on my feet,
And not wanting to go home after vacation.

I am from Barbies and Polly Pockets
From playing with my sister,
The other half of me.

I am from books and flashlights
And pens and paper.
From silence to screaming.

I am from tears on my pillow
And unanswered cries.
From holding your hand
And that look in your eyes.

I am from past and present
And dreams of the future.
I am from hard work and
Harder play.
And I am from writing down my thoughts
On a midsummer’s day.


The author's comments:
Recently I was thinking a lot about the good old days when i was just a little kid. This piece is mainly about some of my favorite things about my childhood, and it truly shows how i got where i am now.

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This article has 356 comments.


Katherine_F said...
on Apr. 27 at 1:32 pm
Katherine_F, Wyoming, Michigan
0 articles 0 photos 2 comments
I like the ending with the "Midsummer's day"

on Feb. 12 at 6:23 pm
malearemele BRONZE, BROOKLYN, Connecticut
4 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
It's not having the strength to go on, it's going on when you don't have the strength.

I wrote something similar for my English project it's on here too

i love this !

elizabethb11 said...
on Dec. 30 2017 at 5:58 pm
elizabethb11, Buford, Georgia
0 articles 0 photos 3 comments
Can a piece of writing that was published let's say, a month ago be published in this month's magazine?

really is an amazing poem

Fantastic poem,very nice

PB1-2 BRONZE said...
on Nov. 22 2017 at 6:30 pm
PB1-2 BRONZE, Parkland, Florida
4 articles 0 photos 1 comment
This poem was beautiful, I loved how you connected the past and the present so perfectly.

Bueriah SILVER said...
on Oct. 4 2017 at 11:52 am
Bueriah SILVER, Miami, Florida
7 articles 0 photos 4 comments
I am from the bed that I sleep on everyday, from the icecream that fell on the floor yesterday and the mouse in my room that won't go away.

NJacobY GOLD said...
on May. 2 2017 at 12:22 pm
NJacobY GOLD, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
15 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

Beautiful peace of writing. Love how you made your transitions.

Homer BRONZE said...
on Feb. 25 2017 at 5:58 am
Homer BRONZE, Kuala Lumpur, Other
1 article 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
Ancora Imparo

This is so beautifully written! Warm and feel-good in the beginning and touching in the end, I might say this really is one of my favorite TeenInk poem.

CoolK said...
on Feb. 16 2017 at 8:07 am
CoolK, Center Valley, Pennsylvania
0 articles 0 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The best place to hide a penny is in a jar or pennies."

Yeah! This lists all the things I used to do... It's REALLY good.

CoolK said...
on Feb. 15 2017 at 10:33 pm
CoolK, Center Valley, Pennsylvania
0 articles 0 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The best place to hide a penny is in a jar or pennies."

This poem is worded so perfectly! I can relate to all of it!!

on Jan. 12 2017 at 4:59 am
LeisurelySketches SILVER, Mohali, Punjab, Other
8 articles 3 photos 67 comments

Favorite Quote:
Your life has a limit but knowledge has none. (Zhuangzi)

Loved the 'I am from..' at the beginning of each stanza, and how it adds meaning to the poem. Simple but beautiful, and something that everyone can relate to.

on Dec. 21 2016 at 6:42 pm
Patrick82432 PLATINUM, Cheektowaga, New York
49 articles 0 photos 65 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where voice had failed
my pen prevailed
and like the winds, became a gale"

~Me

I like this piece and the message of how time changes the way you live your life.

on Oct. 16 2016 at 9:41 am
socialkaysualty PLATINUM, Dover, Delaware
25 articles 0 photos 39 comments

Favorite Quote:
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.



So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?



And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.



And should I then presume?



And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head



Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;



That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:



“That is not it at all,



That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

this is so hauntingly true... love it!

on Oct. 14 2016 at 3:11 pm
legitannah GOLD, Akron, Ohio
19 articles 3 photos 27 comments

Favorite Quote:
Ce n'etait qu'un renard semblable 'a cent mille autres. Maus j'en ai fait mon ami, et il est maintenant unique au monde.- Antoine Saint-Exupery

Ahh you just named like half of the pleasant things I knew as a kid. And I love your ending!

SallyW. BRONZE said...
on Jun. 6 2016 at 2:15 pm
SallyW. BRONZE, Atlanta, New York
4 articles 0 photos 23 comments

Favorite Quote:
"There's no point in being an adult if you can't act childish sometimes." - Doctor Who, The 4th Doctor.

I relate to this so much. This is beautiful!

on May. 26 2016 at 12:37 pm
Kalianah_Wogoman BRONZE, VENETA, Oregon
4 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
You may See me struggle but you will never see me quit.

i like this poem. I like how you worded it.

on May. 3 2016 at 6:12 pm
miaH.505 PLATINUM, Albuquerque, New Mexico
33 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
Love doesn't expire. It doesn’t just go away. And if it does then that wasn’t love at all.

I really like this poem. You took a rather mainstream concept of writing about your child hood "Where I'm From" and really made it your own. You made it unique. Great job!

on Apr. 23 2016 at 5:35 pm
Slampoet BRONZE, Limerick, Other
2 articles 0 photos 2 comments
Brilliant love it , Please check out my work @slampoet




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