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michella-battsPoems
I am from my mama's toes, as my dad walked out the back screen door day after day, its rusted hinge screeching. A reminder of the torrential rain of argument falling on my little head I am from pine trees of sap and sticky sweet and the seed ticks. Climbing to the top checking your neighbor for where they’re hiding later I am from a southerly wind blowing the smells of an unkempt garden as flowers grow tall and strong, while families fall apart like the suffocating weeds next to the roses I am from the strong arms of 5 different oaks holding me up like my father was supposed to the branches of those who tried to fill the pothole covered road in my heart, but never could. I am from my brother’s teachings, and long walks in a warm rain always ending too fast. The sword fights with a long haired bohemian who stole my heart in a flash of lighting that I took back with a parrying blow Smoked filled rooms as I pretend to be someone else, and learned of life in a binary universe trippin on my spear as I fight through life Forbidden to get dull Less I lose the fight My brother’s disappointment; ringing in my ears I’m from the struggle of believing in not believing. My life, proving to be the site of one’s parents, setting out Christmas as they realize Santa isn’t real I’m from a humble beginning and an arrogant pride that has given me freedom to go where those haven’t dreamed I am from the life I have chosen to make for myself I am from Punnet squares in the back of class sitting next to a friend Wanting to know what my kids look like ff they’ll be as good as I hope like my mama dreams I’m from rain on a leaky tin roof putting me to sleep making false peace I am from the water that rushes through my veins as I break through the walls and join in another world, of fish and muddy water I am from escapes to Neverland in the moments were I remember I’m a kid and you’re a kid and I laugh because I don’t always have to grow up From my mom’s lemon pie I hail like the sugary sweet stickiness and the **** pucker you lips boys lemon. and the fried chicken From a stove that hasn’t seen the fanciest meats but left us with a five star feast at my parents hands I miss when I came from a smoke filled house detectors going off fat back and grilled cheese burning in the pan. I like to think I am from a world and all I learn all that made me grow I am from distinct beginnings as my life separated but I have but one means to an end I am from a fire place and screaming wood beetles as we pressed their backs but that’s a happier time that I know I’m from but can’t remember I was too young Now I am from a firepit Tall as our conversations our father singing drunken tales too beautiful to believe to fantastical to forget sparks flying at each crakle like fairies of fire cascading in the air But also from his wrath the anger nights spent in a room crying wishing I could leave clinging on only because I had yet to learn I didn’t need him. So I came from silence between me and him longer than forever louder than the Nazgual screeching out at us through the TV a movie my father and I shared, so we could pretend a little longer. I am from sneaking out a window not to leave but return to when me and you got along the asphalt raking out hands while we climbed to the top that frightfully tall roof. the stars leaning in to catching our fall. the forbidden bottle passed between us. the world looking like a nicer place until we crawled back in the doors of reality From the tear, resting on the edge of these words, as I recalled your laugh the real one the music of it. cried because I have not yet heard it someone stole it from your soul. Maybe freedom can bring it back, or only further burry it were the mad men buried it. I was taught to live as though not else mattered the autonomy offering freedom but still cling to what we had, for however long our childhood not as great. grown up too fast. Queen Mab holds my origins too as does Fantasia and Disney. Eargon and Sapheria swords of blue flame holding my attention locked away in my mind as I watched their adventures and others go by. A House of Leaves containing confuzzeld wonderment. my brother making me challenge what literary told me was possible enjoying the complexity and escape I am from the Moulin Rouge the green fairy of absinthe with same long haired bohemian sitting next me, holding my hand I came from a Secret History bunny, laying flat in the snow Dionysus holding the blame the Greek world with bigger secrets 6 people of a strained friendship I am from a radio and an Ipod the CD player and TV music being my soul Ambient, Pop, Grunge House, Rock, Jazz, Classical Blue Grass, Country, Electronica A multitude of noise, dying to a lullaby Headphones soft n’ squishy pressed tight to the drum drown out the world I beg they comply my fingers moving along the click wheel for a new assault cilia fibers dying off you know the world I am from we shared it often times and yet you are shut out the world of 2 sisters roads walked together. but I am not from you side of the street. I am from a dirt road made long ago that you will sometimes wonder on to. but run back to the smooth and familiar Pavement.
0
Sep 8, 2011
Sep 8, 2011 at 3:15 PM UTC
Where I'm From
I am from my mama's toes, as my dad walked out the back screen door day after day, its rusted hinge screeching. A reminder of the torrential rain of argument falling on my little head I am from pine trees of sap and sticky sweet and the seed ticks. Climbing to the top checking your neighbor for where they’re hiding later I am from a southerly wind blowing the smells of an unkempt garden as flowers grow tall and strong, while families fall apart like the suffocating weeds next to the roses I am from the strong arms of 5 different oaks holding me up like my father was supposed to the branches of those who tried to fill the pothole covered road in my heart, but never could. I am from my brother’s teachings, and long walks in a warm rain always ending too fast. The sword fights with a long haired bohemian who stole my heart in a flash of lighting that I took back with a parrying blow Smoked filled rooms as I pretend to be someone else, and learned of life in a binary universe trippin on my spear as I fight through life Forbidden to get dull Less I lose the fight My brother’s disappointment; ringing in my ears I’m from the struggle of believing in not believing. My life, proving to be the site of one’s parents, setting out Christmas as they realize Santa isn’t real I’m from a humble beginning and an arrogant pride that has given me freedom to go where those haven’t dreamed I am from the life I have chosen to make for myself I am from Punnet squares in the back of class sitting next to a friend Wanting to know what my kids look like ff they’ll be as good as I hope like my mama dreams I’m from rain on a leaky tin roof putting me to sleep making false peace I am from the water that rushes through my veins as I break through the walls and join in another world, of fish and muddy water I am from escapes to Neverland in the moments were I remember I’m a kid and you’re a kid and I laugh because I don’t always have to grow up From my mom’s lemon pie I hail like the sugary sweet stickiness and the **** pucker you lips boys lemon. and the fried chicken From a stove that hasn’t seen the fanciest meats but left us with a five star feast at my parents hands I miss when I came from a smoke filled house detectors going off fat back and grilled cheese burning in the pan. I like to think I am from a world and all I learn all that made me grow I am from distinct beginnings as my life separated but I have but one means to an end I am from a fire place and screaming wood beetles as we pressed their backs but that’s a happier time that I know I’m from but can’t remember I was too young Now I am from a firepit Tall as our conversations our father singing drunken tales too beautiful to believe to fantastical to forget sparks flying at each crakle like fairies of fire cascading in the air But also from his wrath the anger nights spent in a room crying wishing I could leave clinging on only because I had yet to learn I didn’t need him. So I came from silence between me and him longer than forever louder than the Nazgual screeching out at us through the TV a movie my father and I shared, so we could pretend a little longer. I am from sneaking out a window not to leave but return to when me and you got along the asphalt raking out hands while we climbed to the top that frightfully tall roof. the stars leaning in to catching our fall. the forbidden bottle passed between us. the world looking like a nicer place until we crawled back in the doors of reality From the tear, resting on the edge of these words, as I recalled your laugh the real one the music of it. cried because I have not yet heard it someone stole it from your soul. Maybe freedom can bring it back, or only further burry it were the mad men buried it. I was taught to live as though not else mattered the autonomy offering freedom but still cling to what we had, for however long our childhood not as great. grown up too fast. Queen Mab holds my origins too as does Fantasia and Disney. Eargon and Sapheria swords of blue flame holding my attention locked away in my mind as I watched their adventures and others go by. A House of Leaves containing confuzzeld wonderment. my brother making me challenge what literary told me was possible enjoying the complexity and escape I am from the Moulin Rouge the green fairy of absinthe with same long haired bohemian sitting next me, holding my hand I came from a Secret History bunny, laying flat in the snow Dionysus holding the blame the Greek world with bigger secrets 6 people of a strained friendship I am from a radio and an Ipod the CD player and TV music being my soul Ambient, Pop, Grunge House, Rock, Jazz, Classical Blue Grass, Country, Electronica A multitude of noise, dying to a lullaby Headphones soft n’ squishy pressed tight to the drum drown out the world I beg they comply my fingers moving along the click wheel for a new assault cilia fibers dying off you know the world I am from we shared it often times and yet you are shut out the world of 2 sisters roads walked together. but I am not from you side of the street. I am from a dirt road made long ago that you will sometimes wonder on to. but run back to the smooth and familiar Pavement.
michella-batts
Written by
michella-batts
American
Sep 8, 2011
Sep 8, 2011 at 3:15 PM UTC
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