WHERE I’M FROM - OCTOBER 3 2025
I am from beanie babies and juicy fruit,
From butterfly clips and pink lip gloss,
From the little white house on the corner with the big bodacious garden,
from black and white trim, to the striped shade umbrella
I am from the angelic grey statues and the pink fluffy peonies that smell like mom,
From the freshly cut grass and the screened in porch full of friendship and laughter,
I am from birthdays in the backyard to lighting candles and blowing wishes in the flame,
I am from belly laughs on Hanukkah, with Ellen, Marisa, Lee, and Matt on Christmas Eve with champagne in hand,
I am from liberal opinions about politics, and louder opinions about making Jewish babies and quickly,
I am from “don’t eat so fast Hannah, you’ll get a stomach ache”
And “just 5 more pounds and those pants will fit and you’ll be beautiful”
From “L’shana Tova” Rosh Hashanna and Yom Kippur at Ma’s house in detroit,
and the booming voice of the juliard trained cantor at Temple Israel,
And the three candles of the past, present and future at every bar and bat mitzvah,
And finding the affikoman in the couch cushions at Cousin Randie’s house in bloomfield hills,
I am from pink peonies and lilac trees,
From soft sand at sleeping bear
To the cold lake water in Michigan,
To people laughing and playing Euchre
To people caring too much or not at all
About everyone else’s appearance
I am from East Lansing and the Ukraine, from noodle Kugel and Dad’s home made chocolate chip cookies,
From walking in New York City in the rain with Aunt Ellen, Mom, and Marisa with trash bags on our bodies to keep from getting hypothermia, and laughing until my cheeks hurt.
I am from the last campsite with that last slice of pizza, at the last parking spot available in northern Michigan on a camping trip with Dad.
I’m from bookshelves and shoe boxes overstuffed with faces I love
Memories of the past, and of 1 pound 11 ounce little baby Hannah
and a wedding that was beautiful but a marriage that didn’t last.
But that gave me the grace and gumption
And gusto of life that got me where I am, took me where I go,
And always take me back
To where I’m from.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 1:26 AM UTC
The life I dreamt for myself had a whole lot more ease in it than this
It didn’t allow me to wake up at 4:13 am worrying about money or the next bill
It didn’t create anxious bursts of anxiety when on a walk in the woods because I looked at my bank account and felt dread
It showed up with a person to love and be held by and a little one on the way with no worries or regrets but reality checks in and I’m sitting here in bed at 10:30 am on a Tuesday morning wondering what to make of myself, in my huge California king sized bed meant for two,
trudging through heartbreak,
swimming in the empty void that is not yet filled that he left there in my heart
The laughter and the pain that are both gone from these walls,
I honestly miss both
I would rather be in pain with another than in silence with my thoughts and no one else’s
I miss his voice
And the way he used to look at me with those big round brown eyes
When he would make me a coffee with frothy vanilla oat milk and know just how I like it.
When life hits you hard with the absence of a love, we gotta get low sometimes, down in the dumps, filled up with fear and feelings,
And tears on my pillowcase,
In order to get high,
It’s ok, he says
I miss you he says,
You’ve left a huge gaping hole in my heart he says.
And we’re just on opposite sides of our lives now
Untethered to each other,
Trying to find creative comfort solutions to fill it,
Separately as separate beings
Though I still feel the pull
The line I drew to him hasn’t been fully cut
I’ll see you again soon
He says
As he fills my dreams up with memories- only the good ones - I say I know
Sooner than you think
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:33 PM UTC
Wide eyed, he asks me, What is spoken word?
I mean, isn’t that something that I heard on the radio a minute ago and I turned up the volume to get a little crescendo
When my system was bumping, my friends were jumping and 50 was talking about pumping some lead into some dude with his berretta just so he can betta his sickest vendetta
And then I hear you. And I have to address the question that hasn’t been asked yetta
Who are you, HANNAH KOPEN? Cuz I was hopin' you would tell me because to tell you the truth, you look a couple shades too pale
To sound like the songs to be singing about being out on bail fresh outta jail
And I said, yes, that that is how it feels when I put my lips to the mic.
But I can’t tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like.
But, Please don't confuse the abused terminology of the word "vanilla" for "ordinary"
My skin may be pale but I come as a full package and am not afraid to use it!
So Yes! I let my beats flow. Yes, I rock to the hip-hop. so Sue me.
and yes, I may be small, but don’t you forget that I have the personality of a 7 foot tall Amazonian.
Some say that's a “tall glass of woman,” I say, that that's me being as happy as can be. And I can’t help it if my minds combined with licks of rhythm and rhyme.
No it is not a war crime!
because my shoe sole is void of holes and my human soul is void of the scars you get from being behind bars or the scars from waking up and feeling that no matter how wise you are you’ll always be marginalized by society’s eyes so no, I was not raised on the streets but if you strip away those instrumental beats and the platinum teeth then all your left with is words.
you see, poetry is eternity and words are just specks to see
dazzling in its mystery transcending history and I once was blind but now I can write
so, no I was not raised on the streets but neither was poetry
it rose with the first sunrise, opened with the first eyes, comforted baby cries, gave birth to dragonflies, cursed me with my eyes.
Yes, eyes are in fact the windows to the soul and the soul is the kind of thing that glitters and sings and is so permanent that even a bullet from a pistol couldn’t break, shatter or name it indignant.
The truth is I've never fooled anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I really was. You see, I'm selfish, impatient, and insecure. I make mistakes. I am out of control and at times, hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you don't deserve me at my best.
And I be doing it to death and now I move a little foul
A jigga better call a ref, and everybody knows my style
And you know I'm the best when it comes to doing this
And I be banging on my chest, and I bang in the east, and I'm banging in the west
And I come to give you more and I will never give you less
You will hear it in the street or you can read it in the press
Do you really wanna know what's next?
Man forget these haters, how y'all doin'?
I'm Lil Tootsie, I'm a nuisance, I go stupid, I go dumb like the 3 stooges
I don't eat sushi, I'm the stuff, no pollution or substitution
Now I'm chillin playin movies in my Jacuzzi, fruit is juicy
So sweet and juicy!
Hey remember that time when I would only smoke … cigarettes and chocolate milk…
Hey remember that time when I was broke
I didn't care I just bummed from my friends
*** *** *** *** *** yes, that’s what you do when you run out of words, and the energy to make fun on your own terms
Yes you, use and you choose and enthuse and infuse someone else blues
to be a part of your own memory.
Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.
Now that, that was Nietzsche, not me.
But even all through the bumping and grinding and the spitting and rhyming
I am still nobody but me, and that gives truth to my individuality
so
yes, i believe in love, yes, i'm a dreamer. but i'm not alone. there are more of us than you suspect. and we've got bombs. truth and beauty bombs
that exist and ignite in the blue veins in my palms.
i love hands like I love people
they’re the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way through life
some people read palms to tell your future but I read hands to tell your past
each scar marks a story worth telling
each callused palm, each cracked knuckle is a missed punch or years in a factory
but most of all, hands have memory.
my hands remember his, rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Naked arms, his secrets still like songs I'd never learned
Yes life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach but know that getting The wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt. Here. And there. That cannot be fixed by band aids or poetry.
No matter how wide you stretch your fingers your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.
When I grow up I want to look at the world and explore, see, dream, and sing
Cuz that’s the way my mom taught me, they’ll be days like this, they’ll be days like this my mama said.
So don’t be afraid, don’t shy away, don’t hesitate for one second too late to
let your wings fly, Look up and kiss the sky
and always remember that life is what you make it,
This world is made out of sugar it can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:15 PM UTC
Wide eyed, he asks me, What is spoken word?
I mean, isn’t that something that I heard on the radio a minute ago and I turned up the volume to get a little crescendo
When my system was bumping, my friends were jumping and 50 was talking about pumping some lead into some dude with his berretta just so he can betta his sickest vendetta
And then I hear you. And I have to address the question that hasn’t been asked yetta
Who are you, HANNAH KOPEN? Cuz I was hopin' you would tell me because to tell you the truth, you look a couple shades too pale
To sound like the songs to be singing about being out on bail fresh outta jail
And I said, yes, that that is how it feels when I put my lips to the mic.
But I can’t tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like.
But, Please don't confuse the abused terminology of the word "vanilla" for "ordinary"
My skin may be pale but I come as a full package and am not afraid to use it!
So Yes! I let my beats flow. Yes, I rock to the hip-hop. so Sue me.
and yes, I may be small, but don’t you forget that I have the personality of a 7 foot tall Amazonian.
Some say that's a “tall glass of woman,” I say, that that's me being as happy as can be. And I can’t help it if my minds combined with licks of rhythm and rhyme.
No it is not a war crime!
because my shoe sole is void of holes and my human soul is void of the scars you get from being behind bars or the scars from waking up and feeling that no matter how wise you are you’ll always be marginalized by society’s eyes so no, I was not raised on the streets but if you strip away those instrumental beats and the platinum teeth then all your left with is words.
you see, poetry is eternity and words are just specks to see
dazzling in its mystery transcending history and I once was blind but now I can write
so, no I was not raised on the streets but neither was poetry
it rose with the first sunrise, opened with the first eyes, comforted baby cries, gave birth to dragonflies, cursed me with my eyes.
Yes, eyes are in fact the windows to the soul and the soul is the kind of thing that glitters and sings and is so permanent that even a bullet from a pistol couldn’t break, shatter or name it indignant.
The truth is I've never fooled anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I really was. You see, I'm selfish, impatient, and insecure. I make mistakes. I am out of control and at times, hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you don't deserve me at my best.
And I be doing it to death and now I move a little foul
A jigga better call a ref, and everybody knows my style
And you know I'm the best when it comes to doing this
And I be banging on my chest, and I bang in the east, and I'm banging in the west
And I come to give you more and I will never give you less
You will hear it in the street or you can read it in the press
Do you really wanna know what's next?
Man forget these haters, how y'all doin'?
I'm Lil Tootsie, I'm a nuisance, I go stupid, I go dumb like the 3 stooges
I don't eat sushi, I'm the stuff, no pollution or substitution
Now I'm chillin playin movies in my Jacuzzi, fruit is juicy
So sweet and juicy!
Hey remember that time when I would only smoke … cigarettes and chocolate milk…
Hey remember that time when I was broke
I didn't care I just bummed from my friends
*** *** *** *** *** yes, that’s what you do when you run out of words, and the energy to make fun on your own terms
Yes you, use and you choose and enthuse and infuse someone else blues
to be a part of your own memory.
Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.
Now that, that was Nietzsche, not me.
But even all through the bumping and grinding and the spitting and rhyming
I am still nobody but me, and that gives truth to my individuality
so
yes, i believe in love, yes, i'm a dreamer. but i'm not alone. there are more of us than you suspect. and we've got bombs. truth and beauty bombs
that exist and ignite in the blue veins in my palms.
i love hands like I love people
they’re the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way through life
some people read palms to tell your future but I read hands to tell your past
each scar marks a story worth telling
each callused palm, each cracked knuckle is a missed punch or years in a factory
but most of all, hands have memory.
my hands remember his, rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Naked arms, his secrets still like songs I'd never learned
Yes life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach but know that getting The wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt. Here. And there. That cannot be fixed by band aids or poetry.
No matter how wide you stretch your fingers your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.
When I grow up I want to look at the world and explore, see, dream, and sing
Cuz that’s the way my mom taught me, they’ll be days like this, they’ll be days like this my mama said.
So don’t be afraid, don’t shy away, don’t hesitate for one second too late to
let your wings fly, Look up and kiss the sky
and always remember that life is what you make it,
This world is made out of sugar it can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:12 PM UTC
We stood in the temple,
where the air was thick with smoke and silence,
where grief braided itself into the wood,
and every nail hammered was a prayer.
I pressed my palm against the wall—
felt it throb like a second heartbeat.
The desert had taught me
that even sand remembers
the weight of footsteps long gone.
I came here with you,
not to hold on,
but to learn the courage of letting go.
Love—
our love—
was a fire that refused to go out.
It burned in the bones of every dance floor we crushed,
in the galaxies we mapped on each other’s skin,
in the laughter that refused to sleep,
even when dawn was begging us to.
But even twin flames
sometimes learn
that too much fire
can leave the house we built in ashes.
So we stood there,
in the temple,
our hands heavy with memory,
our hearts heavier still.
I thought of the nights
we crowned ourselves king and queen of the cosmos,
how we spun the world into music,
and how the music never once asked us
to stay the same.
The truth is—
I could love you forever
and still set you free.
Because love is not a cage;
it’s a doorway.
And sometimes the most radical devotion
is the opening of the door,
the whispered blessing as the other one walks through.
I didn’t burn anger here.
I burned the maps of resentment,
the suitcases of should-have-beens.
I burned the ache that said
I had to grip tighter or lose everything.
And in the rising smoke,
I saw our story—
not ending,
but shape-shifting,
like the desert wind.
This was not goodbye.
This was gratitude carved in flame.
This was the altar of all we survived,
the cathedral of everything we dared to feel.
And as the temple burned,
I knew—
we are not lost.
We are a constellation.
We are the echo of joy in every bone of this desert.
We are the proof
that even in the letting go,
love remains.
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:09 PM UTC
Letting go
Is a lie-awake stare at the ceiling kind of thing
A 3am to 6:15 kind of hour
Felt in the body
Deep in the bones
Wondering how long this feeling will last
Like an endless mirage
Pools of questions,
And a touch deeply missed,
A magnetic pull of gravity
On grounds that wouldn’t shift,
A long ago memory,
After everything a reminder that,
You tried everything.
You tried
Everything.
And through all the trying you are now finally left
In the stillness of an empty bed
Paint scratches on the wall where
The photos hung
The effort is no longer exhausting
But now leaves you quiet
In the empty home you once built for two
It leaves you hungry for answers
Of what comes next
You feel the ticking of time
Your body pulses it,
And against time you wrestle,
With the fleeting feeling of
Is this all there is left?
Through time you wonder,
And around time, you wait
But perhaps with time you begin to sense
The sunrise still rises, with or without them
And perhaps something else is arriving
And that maybe just maybe
That is everything.
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:05 PM UTC
I don’t want to rush but I want you to know I feel at home with your skin on mine
Enveloped in your embrace I want to live there forever
Like a storybook from a fairytale I want to open your chest and write love songs on your heart
Drawn from our truth it’s this gorgeous art that speaks volumes of our souls that met in the sky one day
And aligned with the stars
We said I love you for the first time and I felt honesty.
Honestly, I want to blurt it out every chance I get
I think our hearts just met
I love you
I love you
But I can’t be a waterfall of words
Too scared that every time I say it the meaning loses its value
Don’t let them go to waste
The taste is too sweet
Too good
This life is a dance with you
Hold my hands
Yes both
And Like an oath
I will be here
To make the skies a little more clear
But running in the rain with you
Is still my favorite view
I dreamt about you last night
Dreamt that you carried my heart in yours
As we hiked across the wilderness through the trees that caressed our love
Dreamt that you Carried our child on your back as we hiked through the redwoods
Dreamt that you held my hand as we navigated through the trails of life
Dreamt that you met my favorite people in the world and became best friends
Dreamt that you held me as I cried
That I cheered for you as you soared
That we smiled and melted together
That you gave me your strength and I gave you my softness
That our love knew no bounds
That it created life
That it traveled through time
That it blew others away
That it took the hurt out of every pain
That it soothed tears
That it trailblazer through fears
That it spread its love to the heaves and above
And shook every soul it touched
And it touched the whole world
Feb 17th 2022
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 8:27 PM UTC
We stood in the temple,
where the air was thick with smoke and silence,
where grief braided itself into the wood,
and every nail hammered was a prayer.
I pressed my palm against the wall—
felt it throb like a second heartbeat.
The desert had taught me
that even sand remembers
the weight of footsteps long gone.
I came here with you,
not to hold on,
but to learn the courage of letting go.
Love—
our love—
was a fire that refused to go out.
It burned in the bones of every dance floor we crushed,
in the galaxies we mapped on each other’s skin,
in the laughter that refused to sleep,
even when dawn was begging us to.
But even twin flames
sometimes learn
that too much fire
can leave the house we built in ashes.
So we stood there,
in the temple,
our hands heavy with memory,
our hearts heavier still.
I thought of the nights
we crowned ourselves king and queen of the cosmos,
how we spun the world into music,
and how the music never once asked us
to stay the same.
The truth is—
I could love you forever
and still set you free.
Because love is not a cage;
it’s a doorway.
And sometimes the most radical devotion
is the opening of the door,
the whispered blessing as the other one walks through.
I didn’t burn anger here.
I burned the maps of resentment,
the suitcases of should-have-beens.
I burned the ache that said
I had to grip tighter or lose everything.
And in the rising smoke,
I saw our story—
not ending,
but shape-shifting,
like the desert wind.
This was not goodbye.
This was gratitude carved in flame.
This was the altar of all we survived,
the cathedral of everything we dared to feel.
And as the temple burned,
I knew—
we are not lost.
We are a constellation.
We are the echo of joy in every bone of this desert.
We are the proof
that even in the letting go,
love remains.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:47 PM UTC
I don’t know where I’m going
I know where I have been
I want to get going
On the life I imagined
I want I linger I decide I regret I realize I dwell on the
he said I was his dream girl, his grandest love, his sweetest thing
I desire him but need to be spoken of in power words not words of ownership and lack of autonomy
I am persuasive I am strong
I am forceful fierce and nasty when I wasn’t supposed to be
I have an angry streak a side of me I only let those I love truly see
I hurt the ones I love when they hurt me
I make mistakes I’m imperfect I’m messy I’m unstable
But I also love deeper I cry harder I laugh with abundance and such intoxicating infectious ness it moves mountains
I am creative I am a gypsy I am compassionate and adventurous and humorous and butterflies fly freely to my heart because even the sweetest things in life fly to those that are equally as sweet
I breathe in ice take the hurt out of your pain and breathe out fire and action and triumphant desire
You will long for me when I am gone
Of that I am sure
I am a hard one to hold onto
You were a good one to love and be loved by
Make no mistake there are those I miss but no one who has ever loved me has ever been able to forget.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
I am lion, hear me roar
I dare to be free of societal norms
I wish to travel the world and see myself in challenging situations
Unpredictable circumstances
Overwhelmed with obstacles and facing my fears by tackling them one at a time
Head on no hesitation no turning back no guide to lead me in the right direction
I wish to fall and pick myself back up again, even if it hurts sometimes
I yearn to learn from my mistakes, I dare to make big ones
I long to be uncomfortable
I want I need I must do and be and see what will become of me in the most uncomfortable surroundings
I wish to smell the air in different cities
To walk along new and old roads that my feet have never touched
Unpaved dirt paths cobble ****** streets grass at my feet
I want to soak in the soil and smell the earth as I pitch my tent in the wild
I am looking for something bigger than myself
Something outside the realm of comfort to test my ability to take risks
to be spontaneous to be resourceful to find myself again and again
to be free
to be wild
to live with no regrets and go and DO exactly what I want to
to listen to the song in my heart and the beat of my drum to
to really see people for the first time
not just look but really see them, see their souls, hear their stories, share our wanderlust in our togetherness, to feel the authenticity of sharing the same thoughts
share our experiences and our joys as we embark on new journeys every single day
to fall in love with strangers to jump off the cliffs to search out what it means to really be alone
aloneness – to find out what it takes to be fully happy being alone, not lonely, but alone
to give as much as I can give of myself, my creativity, my endurance, my pain, to let go
to try hard, to work hard, to make a difference
to be seen
to be heard, to be one with nature and to live with such lightness that I soar above all possibilities, to fly free as the birds
I want to be exactly who I am and more
I want to find out what I can do when I am out of my element
Out of my comfort zone
What will become of me when I no longer have the safety net of home around me?
I need this. For myself. To prove to myself I am bigger than a passive pawn in the twisted game of this American life
I will conquer
I will triumph
I will live up to my fullest potential
and I will surprise myself
I will never be fully happy until I do this.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC