Strictly Necessary Cookie should be enabled at all times so that we can save your preferences for cookie settings.
If you disable this cookie, we will not be able to save your preferences. This means that every time you visit this website you will need to enable or disable cookies again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjg4Kv-BTJ0
De donde yo soy?
Where am I from?
Questions navigate my path- mi camino
Answers are hidden,
Like the underground cracks submerged under the dirty ocean water
Answers blatantly shouting in my mind
Popping in one by one, like the hot coking oil under the dimming kitchen light
Qien soy yo? Who am I?
I am an emotional creature.
I am what I touch, what I feel.
I am what I see and fear.
My skin is marked
Marked by the aunts and uncles
who I have grabbed, hugged, caressed.
With the smell of “agua bendita” on their shirts,
mixed with corona breath-
I am their touch, their voluptuous, curved bodies
filled with habicuelas, arroz, y pollo.
I am the “ay dios mio’s” of their generation.
Of the hugs instantly linked with “dios te bendiga”.
I am the dark, the light, and the cameral skin.
I am what I see.
The year is 1999,
a year where I am the epitome of broken English.
Factory working parents,
mother on welfare.
I am the endless check of WIC,
filled with the excitement of free cereal and milk.
I am the hand me down jeans,
squeezed into me like a pair of too tight gloves
The heirloom sneakers
shamelessly snuck to us by the next-door neighbor
The cheap broken down coats fitting halfway,
and me begging for it to fit the whole way.
“nosotros no somos ricos,”
“We are not rich”.
I am the production of a working woman,
with her faint standard English responses to everything:
yes,
no,
I no speaky English
I am the production of struggling nights;
endless tears falling hard like the slammed dominos
constantly thrown by the Dominican players
on the small gathered tables in Villa Francisca.
I am the expected production of desire
to quit, to give up, and to stop.
But there is rejection.
I have rejected those desires- those emotions.
I am a Castro.
Not of the dictator kind-
just of the powerful type.
“Somos de Guerra”
were the words my Tio Cheko use to clamor
after dancing endlessly to the banging of the cooking pots,
and the clinging wine cups.
I am the production of 20 minutes,
a bedroom apartment,
a cup of wine and love.
I am the discussions, bible verses, and kingdom hall meetings.
I am the sights of do-rags, gang signs, do-this, do-thats,
Eso es qien yo soy
The endless eating of frio- frio on a cooling night.
Uncles, moms, dads, cousins, unknowns,
sitting outside talking about the ancient myths
haunting me like the childhood nightmares
that one can never forget.
Inscribed like the deep drawings on an Egyptian tablet-
inerasable…unforgettable.
That is who I AM.
The insides of me with stories of el cuco, la llorona,
light shutouts, spirits, demonios.
Stories running through my very intestines…
I am what I feel.
I am the rhythms and beats
of the pounding merengue music in Washington heights.
I am the beats and drums
the trumpet sounds
echoing through the street fairs at night.
I am the drunken shouts and slurs
shouted in the middle of the night,
breath of beer expelled through the broken window
in the pale two-room apartment.
The sound of my dad tumbling into the room-
blasting the stereo,
My ears suddenly filled with music
my eyes blinded by his alcohol driven dances.
Eso es qien yo soy
I am like the 3 beat drops echoing slowly during bachata
The wandering movement of left to right,
the lift of the foot.
That is a dance, my dance-
that has become a walk.
A walk that has transformed itself into a guided path.
I am the platano con salami,
consumed like the last gaps of airs you fight for.
No break- just gulping.
4 passenger cars, 7 people in it.
Loudness, yelling, rudeness,
clapping your hands while laughing.
Everyday bodega visits.
Eating arroz religiously.
Eso es quien yo soy.
I am what I am.
An emotional creature.
I am what I touch, what I feel.
I am what I see, what I fear.
Like the underground crack submerged under the dirty ocean water
Answers blatantly shouting in my mind
Popping in one by one,
like the hot coking oil under the dimming kitchen light
Qien so yo? Who am I?
I am me- me I am.
The rest is unwritten.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xms4B9VhIJs
I am from the apartment building down the street. Literally.
The One bedroom that we all shared.
o that empty space on the blue carpet where the stereo system used to be.
o The model cars and dinosaurs scattered everywhere
o From Bathing in the sink.
o From a mother who couldn’t cook better than her husband.
o From The mom that tells me to close the bedroom door so that the curry smell doesn’t get into the clothes.
o From a mother who went on leave from her job to take care of us.
o From a mother who dropped me to school everyday.
o I am from mischief and troubling my sister in her crib everyday. And then getting caught (it was worth it).
o I am from A dad who worked. A lot.
I am from a family that started small but grew.
o From Being the oldest
o From Responsibility
o From Taking the blame
o From Getting the most love
o From Mom
o Dad
o Amirah
o Aneesah
o Adam
o I am From Aunts with their gossip
o Uncles with their drinks
o Grandparents with their care
o I am from Cousins…all 28
o From seeing them ever weekend
o From live but simple house parties
o From growing with them, from fighting with them, from crying with them, and from memories with them
I am from trees and bushes.
• From a New environment.
• A new jungle.
• A safe place
• A boring place.
• A quiet place
• A good place to grow up. I guess.
I am from being a minority in middle school.
• From Trying to fit in.
• Succeeding?
• No—–failing.
• From being different.
• From keeping a low profile.
• Discrimination anyway.
• From being ‘Osama’s’ son.
• Doing nothing and being attacked.
• Fighting back
• Outnumbered
• Overwhelmed
• Beaten
• Broken
• Disgraced
• Shamed in front of the school.
• Head down.
• Quiet.
• Coping.
• Silence
I am from a high school where being on a sports team is more important than being in an honors or AP class.
• Not caring about school functions
• Not caring about life
• Ignoring people.
• Being an outcast.
• Waiting to escape.
• Being freshman
• Robbing myself of life experiences
• From Hating life
• From Hating people
• From doing bad in school
• From silence.
• From Sleeping through school
• From not getting along with anyone. And not caring.
• From being alone
• From people trying to make friends with me… but never gave them a chance
• Then I joined Track
• From slowly realizing that people aren’t bad
• From realizing how stupid id been all this time
• From finally finding my own people
• Basketball
• Music
• Smooth Sailing
• The big 3
• Feeling the love
• Parties
• Friends
• Prom
• Finally
• College
• Finally
• Finding myself
• Accepting myself
• Being myself
• Me
• Finally
• Life
This is what I am From. And more. Take it or leave it. Bitch.
I am from the Stones.
I’m from do what you’re told, and Do What Is Right. From Do Good Get Good and Do Bad Get Bad.
I’m from Stay Calm, and think clearly.
be Kind and Be Good.
Encouragement and discipline
Just me,
Three weeks younger,
Oldest niece, cousin, grandchild. Youngest friend, girlfriend, student.
There were first day photos, early morning mischief, late night whispers.
Stuffed animal fights, scooter races, kindergarden haircuts, and telepathic communication.
Protected and protecting, talking and listening, arguing and agreeing.
From bittersweet elementary, miserable middle, forgettable end.
Always held strong by the three week older Stone.
I am from Madeline, Madeline and Eloise, Scarlett, Anne with an E, and Betsy, Tacy and Tib. Books, old, musty, meaningful. Read aloud and read alone, read again and again.
I am from stories, written down and typed up.
I am turquoise, sea blue, sky blue, baby blue, summer blue, pure Caribbean blue and deep Mediterranean blue,
With islands in my eyes, I speak both little and much.
Silent mouth, but eyes quick to talk.
Rapid mouth if to the trusted one.
I am from water, from sea water unpredictable and changing, yet always constant, from water bottles piled in the car, from lake water lapping against the dock. Diving through waves, riding them in, rope swings, and kayak paddling, chlorine dips and nighttime sound visits.
I am from fire hot showers singing loud and kitchen dancing dinnertimes.
Living for warmth, for comfort, for safety.
Living for summer nights, white shorts against tanned legs, shoulders bared, and bare feet covered in sand. From sweet caressing breezes, and salty wild hair, sun burnt noses, ring tans and sticky ice cream hands.
I’m from parking lot get togethers and music blasting from a toaster car camaraderie, secret manor walks, raucous, genuine laughter and quiet contemplation.
From us two, to us three to us three to us five, four, eight, twelve.
To us two.
Us two and moons on lakes, sunsets by the sea, fresh start, first start.
From city dinner dates, and lazy Sunday beach escapes.
Train rides in solitude, heartache goodbyes, and sweet Mediterranean eyes.
I am from a locked up cage and I am from a free expanse of land.
Yes and no, go and stay, do and don’t.
From a father who made every game
Sprinting down the field, quick dodge, hard shot.
From a mother who made every game.
Forgotten jersey, extra water, another layer.
I am from that pregame anticipation
Turf field heat
I am from the mountains, fresh pure green and pine needle scent
Fires, canoe rides, cold lake water baths.
From travel, exotic lands and foods, accents and palm trees
I am from many houses, ours and his and his and hers. From no knocks and walk right in. From daily workouts, made-up words, snowboard attempts, hot-tub Februarys, bagels, Ingrid playing on car rides home, How to Save a Life our guitar lesson, and Halo our private dance.
I am from disagreements on private life decisions, endless memories, awkward hand-holds, sanctuary hugs, beach runs, pillowcase tears, three on a love seat, motor boat wakes, boat house sleepovers, space heaters, big dogs, analyzing and hour long phone call conversations.
I am from quick, precise action, and indecisive thoughts.
From home alone, to out too long.
From organized planning to sudden panic to refocusing, to keeping things in perspective, to blowing things out of proportion.
I am from plans. Planning where it is I hope to end up
Looking too far ahead; building myself around stories in my mind
I am part from a Stone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RF8XweA6B9U
I am from a makeshift house perched on the hip of a hill
The only place I’ve ever known as home
Red floor greets you. Yellow banister. Shabby-always-needed-paint stairs
Glass door later changed to bulletproof
Dusty statue of an orange cat
Antiques.
Memorabilia on walls.
And a flag, oh yes, every West Indian home had a flag
Like we would somehow forget where we come from
And a cocoyea broom hanging from the wall
A new broom sweeps clean but an old broom knows all the corners
I am from buckets on top of heads
From floating basket women
With strong backs, quick tongues, and an affinity for losing men
Stay out of grown folks business
Women with hard eyes and soft fleshy bellies
& scars
Childhood scars
Baby making scars
Scars from former lovers and former lives
& they don’t tell quick
These women hold their hearts close
And their secrets closer
They hide them well
They clutch invisible rosary beads,
Cuss strong and Carry caskets
God hears the prayers of his children
Women with bad english & accents that never die
They mix drinks & stir spices
& chew ice like men
With laughs like demons
Like little girls
Like hard tracks & creaking screen doors
Island loving, banana boat, sea shook women
I come from Sunday-cook-before-you-leave-for-Church lunches
Lentils, always Lentils
Soups & dumplings
Dasheen, cassava, and polouri
Pallou and callaloo & fried fish
Eat everyting on dah plate. Doh waste food.
I’m from doorways with hinges and no doors
Back rooms & backyards
Red dirt & pots to catch the water when it floods
Brown dirt that color brown bodies
We rolled down hills for fun,
Come inside!
Washed our cut knees under water tanks,
And snuck in through kitchen doors
I come from Pierre’s
All Pierre’s
Been Pierre’s
The women never married or took their husband’s names
Something about 2 parent homes
Never worked out too well
Alla we is one famalee.
I come from the sun
My people’s next of kin
With his glorious rays, he was only god we saw
Some distant relative who always wanted to show he missed us
So he colored our skins
Beat down on our backs
Beat harder when we snuck for shade
Woke us up with his rising
Set reluctantly
We measured the time by him
Come when sun hot
Resembled him
Some immature lover,
One day we were kicked out of the garden
Fell
He wants us back
I come from steel pans,
I come from scarlet phoenix feathers & struggle & regal grace
I come from afternoon gossip
& country-sides
& reds
& whites
& flower skirts
& limbo sticks
& afros
& Sparang
& hummingbirds
& Calypso
& hills
& Radios
& folk songs
& skinny knees
& a sister twin
3-yrs apart but still twins
Siamese
Stay together. That’s your only sister
& family lines that never made sense
& hiding from mocojumbies and soucouyant
& you consider everyone who ever kissed you a parent
& no one gets sick
No one likes hospitals
Everyone sees death at their door and either fights or smiles
He has respect; doesn’t enter until some bad-will neighbor lets him in
He’s scared of island obeah and middle passage black magic
I come from a people who named me Rich and Will Always Be
Remember where you come from. Someone will always find you
Renisha Pierre
Soy de una Viña cerca del Mar
Y de una playa muy ancha
Soy de la tierra caliente del norte
Y del hielo del sur
Soy del cielo celeste
Y del mar azul
Soy de la cueca
La cueca central
Soy de las ramadas
Del 18 de Septiembre
Soy del vino y el asado
Soy de mi casa pequeña
Y su patio enorme
Soy del jardín de mi yaya
Del taller de mi tata
De la educación de mi mami l
Ya carpintería de mi papi
De mis libros
El Gigante Egoísta y El Silabario
Soy de la literatura Chilena
De “Dame la mano” y el Poema No. 20 “Puedo Escribir”
Soy porteña
Soy de las playas de Concon y Reñaca
De la arena del mar
Soy de los barcos de la armada en el puerto
Y de los botes pescadores en la caleta
Soy del cochayuyo
Del mariscal
Que ni siquiera me gustan
Soy de la reineta
El pescado frito ahogado en limón
Soy campesina
De la tierra y el pasto
De los caballos y las vacas
Soy de las estrellas
Del sol y la luna
Soy del riachuelo en la colina
Del sauce bailando el viento
Soy del pan amasado
recién preparado por la tía Lala
Soy del pie de limón
Recién hecho por la ‘Lolole’
Soy del mote con huesillo en las mañanas de verano
I am from moving unexpectedly
To a country I did not know
From seeing my dad for the first time in a year
And learning English in a strange little town
From the first time I visited my best friend in New Jersey
To constantly having sleepovers
I am from the first time I saw snow
To the first time I went to Disney World
I am from learning about God
And learning that with faith, anything is possible
I am from NCIS night every Tuesday
And Bones and Fringe night every Thursday
I am from eating sopaipillas and pizza
From eating “American” but on the Chilean schedule
I am from everything that has happened since
From my new and old lives
I have come to understand that they were very different
Yet they have always been one.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZDRGqXo8mI
Poem:
I am, I am, I am
Of the old house and the pumpkin house
Of the project and where home really is
From the J line, From the L line
From Beginning with Children
And moving onto Latin
I am, I am, I am
Of two grandpas and three grandmas
Of a father who tried and a mother who succeeded
Of an uncle and an aunt I’ll never truly know
And of an uncle I’d happily call brother
I am, I am, I am
From the Leeder, from watching him beat Final Fantasy VII
From the bochinchera, from begging for food with her
With the idiot, for keeping him on the line
With Super Knocky, making fun of sucking her thumb
From the baby, from the warmth from teaching
I am, I am, I am
Of sharing a bed and shoving a child
Searching for space where there’s none
Of under the table, and in the bathroom
And somewhere in the midst of Hogwarts and Narnia
I am, I am, I am
A female by birth
A human by choice
A reformed Pentecostal
A Non Denominational Christian.
I am, I am, I am
Still waiting to see who has the balls to throw the first stone
Applauding as Shawn Michaels left the building
The similarities between sharing a drink
And stealing a bucket of chicken wings
And the things that bring people together
I am, I am, I am
The color red
The word befriend
Superheroes and Supervillains
Pictures and Words
Books upon shelves upon walls of literature
A blockbuster smash and Playstation’s greatest hits
I am, I am, I am
Love, the power of family
Affection, the ability of a tight hug
I Am Jack’s Raging Bile Duct
Doubt, the feeling of no way out
Discipline, the word of the chancla
I am Jack’s cold sweat
Regret, the tears I’ve spilled
Disappointment, the times I’ve waited
I am Jack’s broken heart.
Hunger, Thirst, and the times I’ve turned glutton
Biting, into a crisp turkey sandwich
I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.
I am, I am, I am
Starting a Riot,
Seizing the moment,
`Breaking away from everything,
Armed up to the teeth,
An unchanging light from your reflection
I am, I am, I am
I’m Eric, and Homer, and Peter
I’m Bruce, and Clark, and a completely different Peter
I’m Taran, and Lucy, and Harry
I’m Cloud, and Snake, and Sora
I’m Goku, and Yusuke, and Kenshin
I’m Flair, and Austin, and Jericho
I’m wondering why most of my heroes are men
I’m MsChif, and Sherri, and Melissa
I’m fo¬cused, dead up, don’t get up, or never let up
I am the beat of a pumping human heart
The resolution of an unyielding soul
I am ready to fly
Yet still prepared to fall
I am the steady tick of a cinema reel
Go to side B
I am the light, turned on
I’m moving, growing, going
I am alive
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘524989830 which is not a hashcash value.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4m4–SM0ArQ
I am from a two-bedroom apartment in the Bronx,
from stuck windows, fire escapes, and double-bolted doors.
From drawing on my white walls,
With crayons behind my mom’s back.
From jumping off the bunk beds,
In the room I shared with my brothers and sisters
And sliding down the baby slide,
Over and over and over again
I’m from sticking helicopter seedpods to my nose,
Green, sticky, light seedpods
After school everyday
From three hyper siblings.
One sister, two brothers, all younger
I am from moving into our first house,
And never moving again
I’m from the chaos of raising 7 birds,
2 hamsters,
And 20 fish…
Then settling down with only 1 dog.
I’m from a brother who talks in his sleep.
And being found in the bathtub (TWICE)
Because I tend to sleepwalk
I’m from a mischievous little sister
Who chopped off a big chunk of my hair in what she said was accident
I am from yearly camping trips
With 10 other families:
(20 kids, 20 adults)
Where there were late night campfires and scary stories
And listening to crickets under the starry sky
And from family Christmas performances,
In order to receive our presents
I’m from Vietnamese cuisine.
I’m from pho, com xuon, Ban Cuon, Cha Gio,
bánh mì, Bánh bột lọc, and many more.
I’m from wearing the ao dai on special occasions,
such as the Lunar New Year and festivals with much food and dancing.
I am from swimming every summer
And From rereading my beloved Harry Potter series
Every year
I am from losing myself to watercolor
While sitting outside in the breeze
I’m from being the biggest nerd in middle school,
And graduating as valedictorian
Then adjusting to an all girls private high school
From the awkwardness of high school dances
And finding out who I am
I’m from a school over 200 years old
With traditions that connect all past graduatess
From the sisterhood of Ursuline
Getting ringed my senior year,
Going to school on senior cut day
Surviving the drama of prom
And finally graduating from high school
I am from falling over my own feet,
Walking in a straight line
And holding the record for most injuries on any sports team
I am from silly laughing fits with my best friends
And dancing in the rain
I am from weekly mass,
First at St. Nicholas of Tolentine,
Then Holy Rosary Church
I’m from losing my grandparents,
And babysitting their grandchildren
From a father who quit smoking after 30 years
From a musical family:
Guitars, piano, saxophones, drums
I am from Thoai Dinh and Luan Le,
Thanh Nguyen and Quang Dinh
From the boat people of Vietnam
From the beautiful mountains
And the calm, perfect beaches
From “Work now, enjoy life later”,
“Help out more in the house!”
and “Always know who you are”,
I’m from travelling the wildness of Australia,
But also its cities that remind me of the Big Apple,
Singapore,
Where businesses run the country
And Vietnam, where the people are humble and true of heart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jP2PiYGgcc
You are a descendent,
of a woman who stood alone
Nine children, one house,
A future unknown
She struggled but survived
And here you are today
From the luscious green rice fields
Where the blood of 3 million spilled
To the hustle and bustle of the crowded town,
Sylhet.
You are from 45 nobopushpho jotorpur,
Four stories high & touching the sky
The mango, coconut and guava trees,
(Lined up as soldiers, oh so mighty!)
A sense of elation
When you finally grabbed that sweet fruit which
Made your mouth water for the last hour
Remember the cool feeling
Of the Mosaic floor on your naked feet
When you played hopscotch
On those large green squares?
The abundance of joy,
And being so carefree?
Uncles, Aunts, and Cousins
Gathering for Dawaats
Words flowing from room to room
The fragrance of Kurma and pulao,
As it wafted through the halls,
Filled you up even before you
Sat down to eat. Oh, the taste!
Girls and Boys,
Line up in the field,
In rows that seem never-ending,
All together saying the pledge
And singing,
Amar Shunar Bangla
Ami tumae Vhalobashi
All are equal.
But then you separate,
You follow the girls,
And enter a world that is all too familiar,
You laugh together, cry together,
And form bonds that will last you a lifetime
Jerin, Munni, Nabila, Rafi,
Names that you will repeat a million times
Fridays,
Always the best,
No school!
From crunching and munching
Potato Crackers, that Nana brought,
To reciting the Quran,
The verses so beautiful,
The amazing melody
Puts you in peace.
The men gather in the masjid
And pray jummah
Their prayer echoes.
Then there were Eids,
The two best days of the year.
Eid-ul-Fitr
Buying new clothes,
Riding rickshaws to visit relatives,
Stuffing your stomach
And filling your pockets with cash.
Eid-ul-Adha
New clothes, sacrificing animals,
Stuffing your stomach,
And filling your pocket with Cash
And always the Mendhi
Putting hennah the night before
The celebrations
The blinding light
Of the chandeliers,
The pitch darkness
When the current was out
The candles shimmering
The light dancing
Just enough.
Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI2R6T_SV9g
Poem:
I am from NEWYORKCITAY!
From New clothes to neon lights.
From nervous breakdowns to necessary shoes.
I am from the ATMOSPHERE!
From apples to awesome.
From answers to anger.
I am from DANCE!
From deokbokki to drinks.
From dandelions to dishes.
I am from E=Mc^2
From education to edible.
From easy to elegant.
I am from Ingenious!
From illusion to idealist.
From idiot to idol.
I am from Able.
From admiration to amazing.
From aqua to aloe.
I am from Music.
From mercy to maniac.
From munchies to mingle.
I am from Ideas.
From ignorance to ill.
From ignite to ideal.
I am from ABCs.
From amiable to abhor.
From autumn to angles.
I am from Homesweethome.
From hugs to holes.
From hanging to howl.
I am from you and I. Me and you.
From golf balls to gum.
From hoodies to dinners.
From friends to stupid videos.
From life to death.
From music to passion.
From undying support to fan.
From concerts to autographs.
From idols to soulmates.
From tears to fears.
From late night dramas to late night conversations.
From mishaps to mistakes.
From mornings to night.
From day to day…
I am
Simply
From me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_Rbr-Gm4qQ
Smoke.
I am solid.
I am concrete.
I am concrete.
I am the sidewalks.
My feet talk to the streets,
They talk to the avenues
About life
And memories
And time.
I am the present.
Changed from the past,
Growing into the future
And all the in-between.
I am the clock,
In mesurable numbers
And countable time —
Moving forward
Infinitely.
Infinitely moving
In form and structure,
Bending in light
Shaping in force.
I am the smoke
Created by fire,
Arguing with air
Arguing with opaqueness.
Inchoate, non-concrete,
Uncatchable, uncountable
Smoke.
I am the smoke.
My breath that gives it life
That gives it personality.
Breath.
Smoke.
Silvery-gray mystery
Going on forever.
Infinite
Infinitely
Infinity
I am movement
And body.
I live in the stretch
Expanding with the universe.
I know
What to do
What I do
What I am
I am my mind.
I am my music.
The beat that pumps blood,
The taxeem that knows no boundaries.
The noise that can’t be ignored
Can always be heard,
Can always be seen
And understood.
My bones best friend
I listen when they speak,
When they cast where I may go.
The muscles that protect me
And the blood that never dies.
Holds legacy and never dies.
Burns and never dies.
Never dies…
That burns
And burns
Up in smoke.
Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgEzHp9ThNY
I AM FROM
I am from the BX
Everything is loud
People filling the crowed streets of the Bronx
Fire trucks, police cars passing by
Conversations through the night
Where whispers don’t exist
I am from a small white house on the corner of Boller where I was the princess
Wide basement was called home
Squirrels made their way into the bathroom, and it was time to move
Attic, small and dainty with slanted ceilings
Head met the roof each morning waking up
Sofa had wooden arms that worked as a canvas for my carvings
During hot summers, a simple blanket hung in doorway to keep in A.C
I am from a room only a child would design
Barbie smiled back at me from the wall runner
She always stated claim in two large Clorox tubs in the corner of room
Rugrats slept with me and Snow White occasionally spent the night
Closet in back of room was built for a hobbit but it was a great hideout
I am from the best parents
Lizette Ramiez, a strong, independent mother
A best friend and always there
On paper, I am from Rick Boyles
In my heart, I am from Michael Versace
A man like no other
I am from the most awesome grandparents
Grandpa is a strong military man
Grandma is the go to person with any problem
Together they are one amazing team and spoiled their precious booboo
I am from priceless moments with a funny little boy
A partner in crime
A close bond despite the eight years
Always found by following the other wire from the headphones
Proof that Michael Jackson lives on
I am from many aunts, uncles and cousins
Parties were filled to the max
Women in the kitchen, men in the living room, kids in the bedroom
Music vibrated the walls, yet television stayed on with an audience
Rice, Beans and Pernil were counted to be there every time
I am from a proud family of Puerto Ricans
I am from a close knit of friends
There’s the oreo
And the watermelon
And the oldest one of all, Pinky and the Brain
I am from fairy tales
growing up a princess
to finally finding my prince
I am from long road trips
Grandma and Grandpa with me in the back
First stop, Disney world
Waiting to meet all the characters
Next stop, Minnesota
Visiting every girl’s heaven, The Mall of Americas
And finally being able to claim the car as my own
I am from many hairstyles
Building a client list at a young age
Later, not knowing what to do with my own hair
When highlights weren’t enough, everything had to be blonde
But the jokes were endless, time to tweak
Then again, why not try blazing red?
No, cut it short and put a twist
How about all black
Wait can someone tell me what my natural color is?
I am from countless books
Being Hungry with a caterpillar
And spending many nights following Nancy through hidden passages to solve a mystery
And becoming a child locked away in the attic
To falling in love with a werewolf
I am from music
Every boy band’s CD found its way into the player
I couldn’t sit still in a concert
There is no limit to what can be found on the iPod
The oldies? Its there
Right next to Eminem and Mayday Parade
I am from many laughs
Learning that laughter is the best medicine
There is nothing better than being able to laugh at yourself
To sharing laughs with Dane Cook and Kathy Griffin
And spending many hours on youtube
All That I Am From Leads Me To Where I Am Going
My story begins in Mumbai India, where in 1984 my father decided that he needed a change, and so he moved to America, and in America he lived in a small town called Hastings on the Hudson and this is where my story begins
I am from Philip and Reni George
I am from St Johns hospital in Yonkers NY where I was born on April 3rd weighing 6 pounds and being 19 inches long.
I am from Hastings on the Hudson where I spent the first 7 years of my life
I am from living with my father, my mother, and my Grandmother
I am from having a grandmother who was widowed at a very young age
I am from spending time with her
I am from being her youngest grandson
I am from being her favorite grandchild
I am from being an only son and a momma’s boy
I am from the lord is my Sheppard I shall not want
I am from a very small Christian school
I am from an even smaller group of friends, two of which I lost and one of whom I still have.
However more than anything I am from change, I am from being a very different person than I was before, I am from having change around me, in me, and through me, I am from change
I am from moving to a new house in a new city called yonkers, NY
I am from going from a small private school to a large public school
I am from going from a small circle of friends, to having every circle of friends there could be…
There was the circle of performers
There was the circle of smart people who never missed a class
There was the circle of quote unquote “cool people” who never went to class
There was the group of people who worked out all day long
There was the group of my favorite habibis
There was the group of kids who looked shy and calm, but were actually crazy
And then there was everything else in between
I was from having fun in the sun in my backyard, and partying it up at my pool… to throwing football around in my backyard….and then losing the football over the fence and hoping my neighbors dog didn’t eat the football
I was from playing the piano anytime that I could….to even having my friends play with me and perform with me on large stages
I am from travelling the world of over 9 countries and 25 states within the U.S…to rocking it out right here in NYC in large concerts
But now I am in Macaulay…with a group of kids that I will spend my next four years with…and with whom I’ve already had a couple of good times with, and with whom I will have many more good times with
This is me, this is who I am, I am Joshua George
The Video link is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5go_6qPB7bA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKFbvzXAIx0&feature=player_embedded
*The text for my poem may be slightly different in the video then what I am posting here, but they’re just minor changes.
I am from a new generation,
From the Fall of the Soviet Union and the cloning of Dolly the Sheep
I am from a computer generation,
From Facebook me and This is going on Youtube, MMORPGs and first-person shooters
I am from a media generation
From torrenting music, movies, video games, from the great debate, DVDs vs. Blu-Rays,
I am from a generation on steroids
From Superbowls and World cups, Olympics and Commonwealth games,
I am from a traveling generation,
The US to the West, Hungary to the East
I am from opposites, the glacial slopes of Mount Hood, and the crashing waves of the Pacific,
From skiing at the speed of light, to slowly approaching beavers in the back yard
From New Jersey, the state where I learned to ride a bike,
The state where my bike was stolen
I am from locking the car door on my finger, and getting smashed in the back of my head by a snowboard,
I am from an adventurous youth
A Mom who raised me, who taught me the most important lessons in life,
“Hold the door open for others” and respect people,
A mom who worked day and night, who provided everything for us,
Who does yoga in her free time, and always eats healthy, who grows her own vegetables in the back yard and who got me addicted to drinking Seltzer Water instead of Soda
I am from the East Coast, Long Island, or even further East, Hungary
From switching schools 8 times, and moving 9 times throughout my school life
I am from a great experience, a unique childhood, and combined cultures
from friends in the East and friends in the West, friends who keep me going in life
I am from a Sister who paved the way, who went through the bad so I wouldn’t have to,
A constant rebel who I would always fight with, but she would always make me laugh
A sister who moved out at 18, and moved back in at 24
I am from skiing on mountains and volcanoes in Oregon, New York, Italy, France, Austria, and Slovakia
From playing baseball on the fields of Plainview, bad accuracy, but powerful swing
I am from soccer a 4 foot keeper in an 8 foot Goal,
Goalie in lacrosse, probably my most painful years
I am from tennis on the courts of POB middle school, and in the dome in Budapest
Kayaking in the Atlantic, and on the Duane River, just don’t fall in!
I am from chess, wait is that a sport?
Yes says my dad,
A dad who always wants me to be better and succeed, to be number 1
I am from a dad who took us camping on numerous occasions, or hiking during the weekends
A dad who failed to start a small business, but managed to climb Mount Blonc
I am from a dad who I hardly talk to anymore, a dad who has a new family now
I am from 30,000 feet above the Atlantic,
From “Chicken or Pasta” and “Thank you for flying with Delta Airlines”
Going home every vacation, seeing my old Hungarian friends, who wait for me each summer
From going to Balint Kocsma and playing foosball after school,
I am from cars and motorcycles, a constant subject at Templom Kert and Majorka
I am from my grandparents,
A Grandmother who would get up at 3:00 AM to cook my favorite dish,
Who would always send me home with my pockets stuffed with snacks and money,
A Grandfather, from the great Reichmann family, with stories of World War 2, and the elephant and the monkey, Bufi es Maki,
I am from friends and family, the most important things in life,
From supporting each other and looking out for each other,
I am from the Bronx nowhere I have found new friends,
I am from my newest school, Lehman: number 9
I am from Generation Z
I’m the girl who immigrated at the age of six
Leaving behind a country, a language, and a culture
Barely speaking English and having no friends
But moving along just the same
From the mom who’s only seventeen years older than her
The dad who lives to protect her
And from two annoying but lovable twin brothers
Who surpass her in artistic ability and now in height
I am from ten years of friendship with this girl right here
From suppressed giggles, snorts and laughs
To girls night outs, sleepovers and goof days
I am from the shores of brighton beach visited only in the dead of winter ever year
From shopping and in Times Sqaure
And hanging almost nowhere
I am from three years dedicated to the sport I love
From the greens of dyker golf course, pitching, driving and putting
To a team that gradually became family
From “Endales!” “THAT’S THE SHOT” and “Guess whos number one?
To a coach who became a second father
I am from precious memories
Starting from “Take a look to your left take a look to your right, these are your friends for the next four years”
And ending with “Take a look to your left take a look to your right , these are your frienAL ds for life”
I am from the graduating class of Tech 2010
I’m from always keep the faith
From JAYWALKERS
THREE FINGERS UP ALL DAY
And VI VI VIP
I’m from swagga town and if you don’t agree, psh haters gonna hate
From freak outs
Procrastination
Sleep deprivation
And Determination
From spazz moments
Hyperventilation
Often bordering on hysteria
I am Zerin Tasnim
Zurrreeen
Say it right
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TvCvyVs3_l
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-X6wN13u_Rc
I come from soccer in the streets,
sore legs from kicking the soccer ball around all day long.
From being yelled at by passing cars that come by or people that we hit,
Dead tired by the end of the day.
I come from two meals at once,
Eating food always accompanied by soup, we always eat soup.
From the carne asada con arroz y con el caldo de bola.
I come from praying before we eat, and everyone cleaning up when we’re done.
From every meal being cooked at home,
never eating food from outside.
I come from two opposite cultures mixing together.
Born in la Costa, but growing up in la Sierra.
From el ceviche made in la costa,
la fritada made in la sierra.
From the beaches of Playas y Salinas to el Chimborazo y el cementerio de Tulcan
I come from la mitad del mundo
From a tiny country of 13 million hard working people.
I come from Tulcan, high up in the Andes
standing 3,000 meters above sea level.
From altitude sickness for any outsiders,
to volcanoes that could become active at any time.
I come from a small town where everyone knows everyone else.
Where the chismosos can’t keep their mouth shut.
From your parents always knowing what your up to,
everyone keeping an eye on you in the streets.
I come from religious people who go to church every Sunday,
who celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ on Dec 25th,
who prepare the whole day for the Cena de Nochebuena,
and end it all with mass at midnight celebrating the birth of our savior.
I come from La Semana Santa
remembering the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Everyone cooking Fanesca,
Eating it all week long.
I come from the colada morada y las guaguas for El dia de los muertos
Kids and adults waiting for the day to come so they can eat as much of it as they can.
I come from leaving one home and finding a new one,
from Ecuador to America.
from learning a new language, a new culture, a new way of life
From struggling to adapt, trying not to forgot who we are,
But at the same time learning American customs.
I come from the city that never sleeps,
From big buildings, big bridges and big people.
I come from taking a train to school everyday.
I come from still eating Ecuadorian food, but at American times
from my mom still cooking all our meals,
but not having enough time to cook soup.
I come from new ideas formed,
Religion growing distant from our lives,
No longer going to church every Sunday.
I come from always remembering home,
Remembering all the memories that I have,
Never forgetting where I’m from.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QN-fU_KathE
I’m from a beautiful horizon,
from verde e amarelo.
I’m from the land of samba,
although samba does not land on me…
There was a time when we were three,
but then, we became three plus one.
And I spent the night assembling a big bed,
because the comfy crib was not mine anymore.
I’m from playing with my sister,
And from arguing and fighting too.
I’m from mom yelling,
and from dad’s angry face,
I’m from knowing that he actually wanted to laugh with us.
I’m from playing outside.
in a big backyard.
I’m from hide and seek,
from secret headquarters in the basement.
from water balloons,
ball and card games.
From vegetable boxes out of which our castles were made.
I’m from climbing the closet to get candy,
from throwing wrappers behind it,
and from getting grounded for the bugs.
I’m from mom burning lunch,
and from super Grandma saving the day making rice pudding.
I’m from birthday parties,
from brigadeiro, coxinha, and guarana.
I’m from blowing up balloons all day,
and from having hurting fingers all night.
I’m from a family that shares,
not just love, but cars too.
I’m from riding a different car every week.
From the shakiness of the truck,
to lack of space in the white car.
From the smell of lettuce of the pick up truck,
to the missing seats in my dad’s car.
I come from lovely grandparents,
funny uncles,
protective aunts.
I come from sibling-like cousins,
and from uncle and aunt my age
(that’s grandpa’s fault!)
I’m from being raised in a Catholic family,
but going to a Baptist school.
I’m from believing in God.
I’m also from hating the curls,
from loving the curls,
and from hating them again.
I’m from hours at the hair salon before any major occasion.
I’m from novelas everyday,
from World Cup every four years.
And now I’m from NCIS every week too.
I’m from the brick city,
from Science Park.
I’m from the chargers and they are mine too.
I’m from the past, the present,
and hopefully I will be from a good future too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PH5vjbLQIiA
I come from lying down on my basketball court
The pattern of pebbles from the asphalt embedded on my back,
from the sound clank sound that used to soothe my ears
along with the encore of the swooshing net,
I come from the grass stains on my white socks
And the ever bending post that bounds my aim,
The thud that occurs when a speeding leg meets with the soccer ball
I come from the pit pat of feet that echoed along the empty field,
The aching knees and lungs, the faces of my teammates that kept me going,
From the white shoes ripped by spikes, brown with mud,
I come from the pop caused by a tennis racquet smacking against the ball
From the sliding into splits and the cup slice spin
The tweeners hitting the babies and shin
And ripping the sitting duck
I come from the cries by the Bucket’s jackson,
From the synthetic string and bass,
From the never changing but different sounding middle eastern beats,
And the sweet string symphony so delicately played
I come from a burger eating country
And from across the seas where they have cucumber and tomatoes on the beach
For breakfast lunch and dinner
I am from home,
I am from away,
I am from my surroundings,
I am from myself.
I cannot embed the video, as the video was on my macbook. which is now probably in the hands of someone else unfortunately..
I am from 241 South Middletown Road, my birth of childhood.
I am from the mini-van that pulls into the circular driveway; parents going inside, kids heading to the yard.
I am from a myriad of bees,
The click clack of mothers’ heels on the path to the shed.
Rays of light pouring in by sunrise, illuminating the entire basement
The enormous black oak tree, shading the near acre of garden and grass my house overlooks.
I am from two kitchens
(Important for summers of corn on the cob and winters of hot chocolate)
The musty distinct odor of a house that dates before the Declaration of Independence; an ancient masterpiece.
I am from my friends Boy Scouts, karate, Soccer, Music.
Inseparability never had a better definition.
Scraped knees, dirt off your shoulder
Jeans soaked from Cherry Brook.
Whether or not we came home with socks on our feet
We still said we seized the day, and we did.
I am from “Bath, Books and Bed!”
from my mother shouts as I hurriedly brushed my teeth and went to sleep
Mi abuelo Connie comes to my sister and I
The Lord’s prayer, first in Spanish, then in English.
En el nombre de Padre, de Hijo y de espiritu santo.
“Say your prayers to Jesus! Buenas Nochas!”
I am from the little candle in the window across the street
always there, always present always letting me know I am safe
still flickering, still burning to this very day.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpXfdtfSlQA
I am
Growing up from close, from far
From somewhere different from every now and again
A history on scattered soils has produced a somehow grounded me
In Tennessee and Maryland,
cartoons and toys, movies with my sister
My stay at home mom
Piano lessons that I dreaded, but recitals I loved
Then came palmtrees, and thick, warm Florida air
With sand sticking to feet, and cool water lapping ankles
I ritualistically bathed myself, in the expanse of sunset
saturated with warm color
Orange trees and golf balls in my yard,
Swimming in the ocean, pools and lakes
Hiking in the woods
Tennis at dusk, and video games with friends
Long midnight strolls as my friends slept
and short jogs in the morning mist
Sharing a bunkbed with my sister, even though she had her own room
Teaching myself guitar on a dare
Stargazing with friends in our backyards
Again I moved from home,
a thousand miles north of palm trees, warm sunsets, and familiar faces
I miss Florida like I miss all of the places that I have made my home,
but I know that I carry within me traces of all of my homes through my memory
I carry them because they all make up who I am
I am those early morning cartoons and those toys
I am those movies I watched with my sister
I am those long boring piano lessons, and I am the adrenaline rush I get from performing
I am those long midnight walks through Shoreline Circle and Broadoak Loop,
and those brisk morning jogs
I am long nights playing video games with friends
I am those gentle sunsets and cold waters
I am the coarse southern grass I lay upon, and the starry sky I gazed above
I am