In school we had to compose a poem on the bases of the words "I am from." If I had mine, I would transcribe it here, however, I did not go to classes at the end of the year so... uh... it's in my writing folder somewhere in school. In the poem I basically wrote:
I am from salts-
the salts of a perspiring child in a warm car,
the salts of the mashed potatoes my father told me not to eat,
the salts of the darkroom's photo sensitive paper.
I am from light-
the light that hits your eyes as you leave the theater,
the light that exposes my frames of film
(the light from something else I can't remember right now!)
I am from humor-
(the humor of something related to Bill Murray, Demetri Martin, and someone else I can't remember right now!)
I am from comfort-
(insert something about comfort here... can't remember!)
For the most part, I enjoyed writing the free form-ey poem.
So here's something else I've been working on during the late nights I've spent in the humid forest that is the Poconos.
I am a realist,
with ideal aspirations.
I am a sweet sounding soprano,
who pines after deep "Michael C. Hall" voices.
I am crushing on funny boys and charming men,
neither of which are ever what they appear to be.
And now, I am in the forest with wet, curly hair,
taking day time naps and morning walks,
awaking in the mornings from a splendid slumber.
I am a stalker in the kitchen,
viewing the everlasting romance,
the flowers in vases,
the kisses and playful words from a grandfather to a grandmother.
I am myself and I am all those who surround me.
I am an influenced influencer.
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