I AM POEMS – Language Arts

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_by ZEPEDA

I am from an Elmo blanket

from Nesquick

and Oreos

I am from crowded apartment

marker stained walls

and small tv from the 80,s

as you walked in tired from walking up 3 flights of stairs

you see a 26 twenty six year old mom raising 2 boys

with the help of a very caring grandma

and a teenage like aunt

with no father

it felt safe

Liz and Alma and Samantha and Tristan

I am from the gamers

and the movie nerds

from the annual plot lucks

and christmas celebrations

from “i que ninio!”

and “seby”

I’m from Texas and Spain

green salsa and tortillas

from my grandma selling fruits in mexico to buy a plane ticket to texas to see her

daughters first born son

from the finger great grandpa lost

from the family that loves me very much

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-by KAI MATTHIASSON

I am from the old claw foot cast iron bathtub

From Zevia coke and Ling Ling poststickers

I am from the old  1800mfarm house with a warm,faded yellow light

I am from the grape vines and the fruit trees

From lighting candles on Hannukah and tree hugging

I am from the history loving and the peace loving

From “the roads are getting bad” and “being a mench”

I’m from Iceland and hungary

pickled herring and Matzo ball soup

From  the Holocaust refugees and viking longships

I am from the hopes of the immigrants on Ellis Island

From the Hildafolk in Gimli

And the long,cold winter my ancestors spent in a hole in Manitoba

With their nine kids that they would give anything for

And i am from the love both sides of my family share for each other

Throughout the best and the worst times of their lives.

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– by NOVIHLEA GAGE

I’m from monkey goo gel

Chi flat irons

And bags full of nail polish

I’m from the 1 story house in the middle of the woods that smells like old people and

feels like home and that sounds like kids screaming and playing

I am the creek down the hillside

The dog running loose

Looking like big white blankets

I’m from the smell of collard greens on holidays

And 5 thanks on thanksgiving

From chelsie and christian

And nieces and nephews

I’m from the sarcastic sound in voices and yelling for the 49ers

From “you’ll be home soon”

And ” I-o-u-s”

From “don’t give up”

And “keep your head held high”

I’m from praying every Sunday

Saying “as I lay down in my bed to sleep I pray for you my soul to keep”

I’m from ghetto Carmichael

And collard greens and vegetables

From the old ancestral stories by the fire

And the remembrance of Grandma Mona on my birthday

From the mini tornadoes at school

And never being able to say the word “dad”

From packing up and moving again

From stranger to stranger

From city to city

And I ask myself….

When will it stop when will I find my real home

Do I even have a home out there or is foster care my forever lasting home