Poetry - Workshop - Where I'm From - Free Write
Where I'm From
As Kentucky's 2015-2016 poet laureate, George Ella aimed to collect a "Where I'm From" poem from every county in Kentucky. Kentucky’s ‘Where I’m From’: A Poetry of Place” is the central theme of a project that touched all 120 of Kentucky’s counties.
Where I'm From
I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments--
snapped before I budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments--
snapped before I budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.
Where to Go with "Where I'm From"
While you can revise (edit, extend, rearrange) your “Where I'm From” list into a poem, you can also see it as a corridor of doors opening onto further knowledge and other kinds of writing. The key is to let yourself explore these rooms. Don't rush to decide what kind of writing you're going to do or to revise or finish a piece. Let your goal be the writing itself. Learn to let it lead you. This will help you lead students, both in their own writing and in their response as readers. Look for these elements in your WIF poem and see where else they might take you:
- a place could open into a piece of descriptive writing or a scene from memory.
- your parents' work could open into a memory of going with them, helping, being in the way. Could be a remembered dialogue between your parents about work. Could be a poem made from a litany of tools they used.
- an important event could open into freewriting all the memories of that experience, then writing it as a scene, with description and dialogue. It's also possible to let the description become setting and directions and let the dialogue turn into a play.
- food could open into a scene at the table, a character sketch of the person who prepared the food, a litany of different experiences with it, a process essay of how to make it.
- music could take you to a scene where the music is playing; could provide you the chance to interleave the words of the song and words you might have said (or a narrative of what you were thinking and feeling at the time the song was first important to you (“Where I'm Singing From”).
- something someone said to you could open into a scene or a poem which captures that moment; could be what you wanted to say back but never did.
- a significant object could open into a sensory exploration of the object-what it felt, sounded, smelled, looked, and tasted like; then where it came from, what happened to it, a memory of your connection with it. Is there a secret or a longing connected with this object? A message? If you could go back to yourself when this object was important to you, what would you ask, tell, or give yourself?
Remember, you are the expert on you. No one else sees the world as you do; no one else has your material to draw on. You don't have to know where to begin. Just start. Let it flow. Trust the work to find its own form.
Write your own Where I'm From poem. Use George Ella Lyon's poem as inspiration.
I am from blue skies and endless spring
ReplyDeleteWhere trees are green and flowers are always in bloom
I am from freshly squeezed orange juice and handmade tortillas
From home grown avocados and lemons
I am from famous food that the United States tries so hard to replicate
Where beans and rice and cheese are served for breakfast
I am from beautiful landscapes but also from great despair
Where children roam the streets begging at stoplights
I am from a beautiful culture but also great corruption
Where politicians and drugs have tainted the name of my country
I am from the cold,
ReplyDeleteFrom the bone chilling winds on my birthday,
To the snow that covers me nearly half the year.
I'm from intensity,
from the screaming of parents trying their best,
to the chaos that rang through my home.
I come from chaos.
I am sunny days to others,
from the smile and warmth from my grandparents.
I'm come from blaring speakers,
saying words,
asking things that make people jump.
I come from curiosity,
from the simple knowledge of knowing.
The sight smile on a friends lips,
the way people dodge certain topics,
The way you get to know people.
I am from the country
ReplyDeleteFields of empty land
I am from a small town
Everyone knows everyone
I am from an agricultural school
I am from a place where I feel free
I am from peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream
I’m from sweet iced tea with extra sugar
I am from cornbread and biscuits
I am from The Tavern and Buddy’s Place
I am from the dollar general being an exciting adventure
I am from riding bikes down steep hills
I am from fishing and sunsets
I am from picking strawberries
I’m from grandmothers house out in the middle of nowhere
I am from love and kindness
I am from home, my happy place
The family split before it could begin,
ReplyDeleteThe houses together through me,
The tug of war,
house to house,
neighborhood to neighborhood,
Friend group to friend group,
So many homes yet still empty,
So much family yet still not loved,
So many friends yet loneliness still prevails,
The room smothered in darkness,
The t.v screen pumping out light,
My mind filled with joy,
Laughter filled my room,
My pearly whites finally showing,
Squinting and stomach cramps because of the laughter,
Yet, in such a time of joy, those around me must squash it,
To live in the dark and be filled joy,
May be better Thant ok I’ve in the light and be filled with sorrow
To love in the unknown rather to live in known,
I have passed the point and now live in the light of the knowing
*may be better than to live in the light (correction for line 18)
DeleteI come from the knobs and old barns of Kentucky.
ReplyDeleteI come from too sweet tea and Ski cans in my great-grandmother’s garage.
I come from holidays that always turned into sleepovers.
I come from Corn Flakes with sugar sprinkled on top.
Sugar sprinkled from that old red plastic cup.
That cup that still sits in the sugar jar at my grammy’s house.
I come from the daughter of a farmer and a son of a conservative.
I don’t disregard my father’s father’s occupation to say he’s a conservative out of disrespect.
That’s just the thing he’s known to be. Loudly. Aggressively. Without change or sway in stance.
I come from a house you can run laps in.
I come from a house where it’s expected you come in muddy and messy.
I come from a house where tidiness is key, but so is playing together.
I come from a house where Barbies and American Girl are the biggest name brands a girl could have.
I come from a house where you wait for everyone on the stairs before rushing down on Christmas morn.
I come from a house where Yankee games and poker playing are both acceptable pastimes.
I come from a house where it is expected you share in the faith. Whether that’s a good thing or not, I’m still figuring out.
Safety and security. I am from a home of love set in the suburbs. I am from where kindness is the only way of life. I am from a living room filled with laughter at Christmas where the room smells of pine, chocolate chip cookies, and my mom’s perfume. I am from a small town that’s just close enough to brerathe the city air. I am from the place where strangers say hello as you pass by when walking your dog. I am from where dad’s mowing their lawns will offer a smile and wave as you drive to school in the morning. I am from where we watch the city with wide eyes from the comfort of our deck. I am from the culdesac where kids all over our neighborhood convene to kick a can.
ReplyDeleteI'm from farms and open land
ReplyDeletecows grazing and chicken coops.
I'm from a large household;
clothes strewn everywhere, children running and screaming, a noisy atmosphere.
I'm from "Jesus is watching", and "Because I said so."
I'm from my grandma's cooking every night
the effort and stress she would put in to maintaining a full household and taking care of so many kids.
I'm from "You have to share with your siblings",
and the excitement that came with privacy or peace and quiet.
I'm from small town gossip
recognizing almost anyone you'd see in public
the southern hospitality
or the old-thinking ignorance and disapproval.
I'm from "Respect your elders" and "Children speak when spoken to."
But I am also from "I'm so proud of you", and "You're going to do great things."
I'm from dance competitions on the weekend
hard work paid off despite our lack of support of excitement from our town.
I'm from bonfires and s'mores on fall nights.
From only having two restaurants to choose from, the grocery store that everyone would frequent.
I am from a stereotypical middle-class family.
ReplyDeleteI am from parents who have important values
that reflect my hometown city.
I am a spitting image of my city.
Hard-work, grit, and discipline are in my blood.
I come from wooden floors;
the floors meant for basketball.
I am from the dinner table,
where I spent a lot of time,
eating and doing homework.
I am from the old oak tree
ReplyDeleteThe front steps of the orphanage
I am from my parents who gave me up
I come from the books on my shelf
The cup of tea on my desk
Zoe Brewer
I'm from a cozy, suburban town in central IL. Too far to be considered Chicago, but too close to be considered the middle of no where. ISU game days. Sweet corn festival. Friday night lights-- Community vs. West. State Farm Classic tournament. Home of Avanti's gondolas. The Cornbelters play this Saturday. Cookie cutter neighborhoods. Five big high schools. It's so cold this time of the year-- it's really kind of cold all year except during summer. The kind of town you loved growing up in, but maybe don't want to move back to. Cute little BloNo.
ReplyDeleteI am from the city of immigrants and the side of the south
ReplyDeleteI am from police towns, rap songs,
and Irish blood
I am from the family of a union head
I am from pizza on saturday night and pork chops on monday
I drive in the road construction that will never end
I sit on the train that speeds through the lowest and the highest
I am from the snow and the wind that hurts my face and teeth on a December morning
I am from football where the best boys are the worst ones
I go to the city for a drink but stay in the borderlines for a party
I watch the small little ponds from my window freeze, defrost, melt, and liquidize
I am from a little fish in a big pond.
I’m from the most beautiful upright city that the United States have ever seen
ReplyDeleteWhere the city gets bigger and the renovations never stop
Im from the cities favorite hotdog shop thats on the corner of west main and south harrison
Im from the most welcoming and friendly faces in the midwest, raising me never to know a stranger
Im from the backroads and potholes that the city never tends to
Im from the “heys” and “how are you”s from people you will never be able to escape
Because when your born and raised in fort wayne
Youre stuck
Ask the generations and generations of people before me who tried to break the cycle
ReplyDeleteWhere am i from?
Its a question whose answer will leave you weary
I am from nowhere,
No really!
And where is nowhere,
You may be inclined to ask
Well its south from Somewhere
And just east of Over There.
What’s Nowhere like?
You may come to ask
Well its a lot like Everywhere,
and very different for everyone
It’s always moving,
Like a cloud of a city
Sometimes it resembles a southern sweet tea
And other times it feels more like a New England clam chowder
And on a rainy day, it almost resembles steamed blue crab
It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?
The superbulous world of Nowhere.
But i warn you now, once you enter, you dont really leave
There are no friends in Nowhere, and there are no enemies
It’s quite the lonely home, and I hope you never know it
Camden Hedrick
DeleteI am from the mitten
ReplyDeleteI am from the motor city
From the Rouge River and meter sized pot holes
I am from the five greats lakes
From summer days at the lake on Grandpa's Boat
And winter days skiing down Boyne Mountain
I am from a place where all four seasons come and go
I am from the suburbs of Detroit
From the Detroit river with Candas beautiful skyline on the other side
From Ford Field to Comerica Park, and Little Caesars Arena
I am from a place where my escape is up north
Not down south
Where the stars shine bright
And the northern lights can be seen
I am from the city
From a high school with four buildings
That saw 7,000 students walk in and out of their doors every day
I am from the mitten
Where I’m from
ReplyDeleteI am from the sound waves echoing off a typewriter singing it’s song
From in between the stripes of a rainbow flag
Under and around and twisted about spirals of curls sprouting from my head
I am from the grass that gleams blue with dewdrops when the sun hits it
To snug between pages in books, old and thick,
looking beautifully packed with knowledge.
From the rose bush that crawls on the side of the house,
Japanese cherry tree that grew taller and taller,
as if to reach the sky and stars beyond.
I’m from jambalaya,
from all the Alberts and french Cordonniers.
I’m from the smart alecks and the know-it-alls,
from sit-up-straight and pipe-down and speak-up.
I’m from the divine savior with the holy feast,
and going to mass on Sundays.
I’m from horse country and Lisa Renée,
from Mac & Cheese and honeyed ham.
From the knee that weakens Mama with each step,
to the sickness that dwells in my Grandma’s mind.
On my worn desk sits all my trinkets from years past .
I am from writing in cursive to hide my messy handwriting
and from watching musicals and plays late into the night,
And being taught to live in the moment.
I’m from mountains
ReplyDeleteFrom small town parking lot meet ups
From everyone knows everyone
From churches on every street
From country roads
From a loving home
From more stop signs than streetlights
I am from bipolar like seasons
ReplyDeleteWhere it rains for 2 minutes, then the sun shines down seconds later.
I am from Sunday nights being reserved for family dinners only,
And Fridays being pizza followed by Saturdays being restaurant nights.
I am from Sunday afternoons being full of skyline,
Where I meet with my family each week.
I am from Andrew and Janis
Who love math more than they love life.
I am from cherry delight
And Apple crisp each Sunday night
I am from spring break trips to the same place every year
And holidays being spent at my house.
I am from Hilliard,
Where people can be kind in person, but rude when driving.
I am from Lake and Lori Dawson
ReplyDeleteKnown as "the LD's"
Lori radiates sunshine
Lake radiates passion
I was formed through laughter
Created through mutual respect and understanding
I am from loud family dinners where no one's ego is safe
I am from a kitchen filled with bread and butter
I am from a 5-person soul train line
where the rhythm of Marvin Gaye saturates the room
I am from 90s jam sessions
where sweat permeates our skin as Mary J. Blige carries us 'All Night Long'
Lake and Lori
a match made in heaven
a love that causes you to put the other's needs before your own
No argument is too deep to break the bond of two souls in agape love
I am from partners
I am from teammates
I am from Lake and Lori, who fit each other like a glove