#esl - Hello Poetry

Or, at least what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames, to put up on our pastel coloured walls. He brought me to be a translator, of his broken english. I see the looks some give him, but I am proud of my father. And mad at how our society works. Looking at my father you think, he probably only knows his own mother tongue, no education, bad manners, had lived in poverty before. But you are wrong. An Italian man sits by this booth, selling picture frames. I point and tell my father, and he walks over. "How much for frames?" I taught him how to say that well enough. The Italian man says fluently, "$40 a piece," but behind it you can hear a faint Italian accent. My father hears this and his face lights up, and he replies in Italian, "Great, but can you lower it to $30. For me, man?" The man seemed shocked to see a dark-skinned man, speaks such fluent Italian. The man got up with a smile on his face, and told my father, "Man, I was born in Italy, but you speak it better than me," My dad laughed. Next time you see, a strange man, struggling with his english, stop to think, he might be able to speak to you in, German. Italian. French. And in a tiny bit of Spanish. And of course, his mother tongue. He might have learned the culinary arts, in a world-renounced school. He might be able to do anything. And he might even be a little more impressive, than you will ever be. Judgement hurts. But all it takes is you to stop it.

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Apr 30, 2014

Apr 30, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC

shyana-sri

A Life of an Uneducated Immigrant

Or, at least what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames, to put up on our pastel coloured walls. He brought me to be a translator, of his broken english. I see the looks some give him, but I am proud of my father. And mad at how our society works. Looking at my father you think, he probably only knows his own mother tongue, no education, bad manners, had lived in poverty before. But you are wrong. An Italian man sits by this booth, selling picture frames. I point and tell my father, and he walks over. "How much for frames?" I taught him how to say that well enough. The Italian man says fluently, "$40 a piece," but behind it you can hear a faint Italian accent. My father hears this and his face lights up, and he replies in Italian, "Great, but can you lower it to $30. For me, man?" The man seemed shocked to see a dark-skinned man, speaks such fluent Italian. The man got up with a smile on his face, and told my father, "Man, I was born in Italy, but you speak it better than me," My dad laughed. Next time you see, a strange man, struggling with his english, stop to think, he might be able to speak to you in, German. Italian. French. And in a tiny bit of Spanish. And of course, his mother tongue. He might have learned the culinary arts, in a world-renounced school. He might be able to do anything. And he might even be a little more impressive, than you will ever be. Judgement hurts. But all it takes is you to stop it.

48

There was this night when I was trying to study Mama came into my room with a cup of coffee As I reached for the cup it was as warm as her embrace made me feel like I'm in the safest place And as I took a sip it was bittersweet reminded me of life the trials and success that I would meet As I finished it I knew that I have all her tender care and genuine love But now that she's far away I wish that I would see my Mama by the door and her warm cup of coffee --

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Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC

patch-super

A Cup of Coffee

There was this night when I was trying to study Mama came into my room with a cup of coffee As I reached for the cup it was as warm as her embrace made me feel like I'm in the safest place And as I took a sip it was bittersweet reminded me of life the trials and success that I would meet As I finished it I knew that I have all her tender care and genuine love But now that she's far away I wish that I would see my Mama by the door and her warm cup of coffee --

21

English Anguish

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Dec 14, 2019

Dec 14, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC