Wednesday, 12 December 2012

I Am From



I am from red clay pots sitting along hard grey roads,
warm sunshine and heavy raindrops tapping tills
lone animals treading quietly,  the swish of cattle’s tails mingling with the cries of the market.
Fiery dragons breathing columns of fire,
jaded pedants bearing rabbit pads.
Of crystal flutes chiming along to the deep rumble of the Tabla.

I am from Paramore and Taylor Swift
P!nk, Ed Sheeran and Three Days Grace.
I am from Jasport backpacks and shiny silver Macbooks,
of pretty dresses and black converse.
I am from spiced air and soaring skyscrapers
Embassy standing proud as hooves soar above striped oxers.

I am from blue china plates, dove wings fluttering across glass as tall flutes tinkle merrily.
The loud bark of a Yorkshire Terrier, golden brown and grey merging with light.
Gleaming stainless steel food bowls and knotted paw-printed leashes.
From opinions and beliefs, colours brightening and molding across a sheet of canvas.
Music notes black and fleeting yet lingering in the soul
fingers strumming guitar strings and pressing frets lovingly.

I am from crisp white paper stained with musings of my mind
of ink shaping ideas, of characters and places skirting through my dreams.
Paint spattered canvas, ink stained fingertips, charcoal covered palms.
Fine paintbrushes splashing life into grey and pencils sketching endlessly.
I am from battered Beanie Babies and scattered rainbows of rubber bands
messy buns and loose waves tickling the cloth on my shoulder.
Shifting dreams and warm, steady love from my mother’s open arms,
of my father’s never ending support and comforting, confident voice.

I am from the pale moonlight dappling lakes,
mysterious, tender silver setting the murky water aglow yet leaving some hidden.
Fluffy orange dipped clouds drifting slowly along the setting sun,
bursting with memories and full of glimmering hope tinged with acceptance.
I am from the trees, the flowers and the wind;
from the night sky and the breathtaking dawn.
I am from Cassopeia as she glows duskily against the stars,
from the abstract, storytellers of the universe.
Faint stardust spinning through space,
soft red powder forming my features in the timeless void of memories.

4 comments:

  1. You have an amazing talent. This poem is stunning. Thank you.

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  2. Wow. My students are much older than you are, but I think they still would have a lot to learn from this piece as an example of beautiful imagery and sensory detail. I will refer them to this page when we work on our own "I am from" poems. Thank you for sharing!

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  3. Simply brilliant, beautiful and real. Thank you.

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  4. Man! You have an amazing voice! This is my favorite line: I am from crisp white paper stained with musings of my mind.

    Keep it up! You are an excellent writer.

    Sincerely,

    Ann Krembs
    The Dear Librarian

    ReplyDelete