Where I’m From (throwback Thursday)

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I’m from corduroy jackets and denim jeans.

Running water and yellow Gatorade.

Sometimes when it rains for the window panes never lie,

I’m from wet sidewalks and damp fur.

If Scrabble is out and music pulses through my heart,

Then you know that’s where I’m from.

 

On occasion, if thunder and lightening lurk near,

The warm covers of my bed

Along with an old movie are where I’m from.

Warm pizza and Pepsi-Cola,

As well as silent laughter of a close friend are where I’m from.

When you can fall asleep to the cites

Of a fantasy land with a glass castle-

That is me.

 

I’m from oil paintings of mysterious night skies-

The kind of creases that fascinate my fingers.

The love and joy that I possess flows every so slowly

Onto the canvas before I am even awake.

When the lighthouse I’ve portrayed jumps off the page,

That’s where I’m from.

 

Every so often Harry Potter casts a spell on my world,

And nothing precious to me can be taken away.

My senses celebrate the magic I nourish them with,

For although they cannot tell a soul, they keep my treasures safe.

 

I’m from scraped knees and bruised shoulders.

One kiss and it is all better.

Where I’m from, long walks on the beach

Make for pleasant conversation.

“Mine the darkness and see the path you leave behind.”

Sometimes there is darkness in the distant trees,

But when the night sky is shimmering with shooting stars,

That’s where I’m from.

 

The place where I often dwell is in the front yard with all my flowers.

My lungs praise the October air, and the leaves delight my vision.

Sparkling bubbles from the fountain drizzle onto my body-

That’s where I’m where.

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I can’t take my mind off of you

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It was our very first date

You were right on time or a little late

I was so nervous I don’t actually know the time

You drove a silver Honda

The car was parked. And slowly,

You came out to greet me

I met you with nervousness but also glee

We traveled to the train station

Missed the train so we waited

And soccer vs. football we contemplated

I’m so very lucky conversation went so well

Because the entire time I thought,

I can’t take my eyes off you…

But now that it’s been over so long

I can’t take my mind off of you…

Ode to my English Class: Enormous Wings and Things to Carry

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Ode to Gadies and Lettermen

To sitting across from a complete stranger on August 26th

And reading “Hills like White Elephants”

Ode to Nicole the page princess

Ode to Liz Marie the 1st spiritual leader, blunt and fierce

To the chalkboard and that darn desk that is always loose

To the window that displays only a moment in time

Ode to Civil Peace, Building fires, and Sweat

Ode to living out a Saturday night live skit

For drinking water, coffee, or chocolate milk

And listening to Nick’s wise insight about a story

Or simple pride to say he man handles things

Ode to Ben for declaring a boy becomes a man at age 13

Ode to McKenzie for her insight during The Guest,

Choosing structure over freedom

Ode to Spencer for history lessons and beer critiques

To greasy lakes and Open Boats

Ode to Patrick’s memorable quote about what the blind actually see

To Paul’s open-mindedness – thank you for truly diving into the stories

And seeing so many details, giving us so much to think about

Ode to Scriveners, yellow wallpaper, red convertibles and rocking horses

Ode to Liz for being so peaceful, calm amongst the storm

To Megan for having her i-pod and head on straight, sitting in the back, a buffer

To Brian’s skepticism and humor and baseball caps

Ode to Vlad’s indifference and Antonio’s ability to answer

Questions on the flip of a dime when all seems lost

To Nell, my lucky ninja for sharing her frustration of violent video games

During the things we carried discussion

We all sat there quietly, I tried to imagine it but I just lost myself in realizing

We are not as desensitized as we may think

I foolishly went on and on talking like I had some right others didn’t

I apologize for my loudness and my annoying at times presence.

My many tangents

I apologize for calling foul and pounding on the table like the child

In The use of Force

Ode to Bill for reading

And always being able to say from beginning to end what happened

Ode to Mielas for pointing out the great depression and discussing Native Americans

Ode to chrysanthemums, happy endings, greasy lakes, cathedrals, and the guest

To Desiree’s baby and the newborn thrown…

Ode to Megan’s Solace on the side

Ode to Elly’s grace, glasses, giggle and spot on analysis

This is my Ode to Professor Davros for listening to what ever we

Had to say and for taking jokes with a gram of salt

For coming to class and getting a migraine no doubt

But for absorbing all of our babble into something that makes sense

We sit transfixed, bedazzled.

Some loud, some quiet

Some laughing some texting

Some tired, others pumped for discussions

Ode to Occurrences at Bridges, Necklaces, and Real Things

We came as ordinary people and learned where we are

And where we have been

Leaving my desk and chair I emerge towards the door, and stand realizing

“I prefer not to.”

(Memories from a great class, a poem I found that I’d like to share)