George Ella Lyon

Where I'm From

June 10, 2013



In 1993, in response to a poem in Stories I Ain’t Told Nobody Yet, George Ella Lyon experimented with a “where-I’m-from” list, which he turned into a poem, and eventually into an exercise for other writers. His exercise has been used as a writing prompt in schools and other places. When I came across it a few months ago, I decided I wanted to write my own version*:

Where I’m From

I am from rocking chairs,
from Dr. Pepper
and Dodger baseball.

I’m from Looney Tunes and
volcanic kitchen experiments,
pie for breakfast, and Capture the Flag.

From sipping hot chocolate from a thermos
at the Rose Parade (I always burned my mouth);
pomegranates whose jeweled seeds stained my fingers, and
chocolate chip cookies with no nuts.

I am from the green house on the corner
where I practiced volleyball serves against the garage and
stayed up too late listening to music in my yellow room.

I am from oak trees
and peonies
and the irrigation ditch behind Grandma’s house
where I collected rocks and staged swimming races
for frogs
in the snow-melted water.

I am from matching, homemade
mother/daughter dresses,
from card games
(“You can’t play with the grown-ups if you cry when you lose”),
writing poems in church,
pretending to be a horse galloping
through fields.

I am from Pedro and Pokey, Taffy and
Mitzi, Honey Bunny and Tiger Boots
and Buster, the bunny
we found in the library parking lot.

I’m from the time I harnessed our cat with an apron
to help me put my toys away;
from the night no one asked me to dance
(I cried the entire next day).
I’m from trips to Taco Bell in Anita’s VW Bug,
and singing Devo’s “Whip It” on the courts at tennis practice.
I’m from Mrs. T and Dr. Mac and
The Outcasts of Poker Flat.

I am from Sacramento, California,
from Lakewood, and Cottonwood, from
Brandon and Lithia, Florida,
land of beaches and Spanish moss and Rays baseball and Disney.

I am from the box in the closet
hiding captured pieces of myself, the photo albums
in the family room,
the flying pig and
the mint green mini Vespa on my desk.

I’m from all I was,
what I am,
and what I’ll be.

*Read Lyon’s original “Where I’m From” poem here

Writing “Where I’m From” is lots of fun, and can be done over and over again, as poem or prose, and each time the author will uncover some forgotten piece of him or herself. If you want to try it yourself, you can find a template to get you started here and another example of it here.

So I have one question for you: where are you from?

Everyday adventures

A Summer State of Mind

June 07, 2013


I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for summer. Maybe not the hot, sticky part, but certainly the no-alarm-clock or school-schedule aspects. Even though I work at home and for myself, summertime always seems a little more laid back and relaxed. I know summer doesn’t technically start until June 21, but it’s summer here already, especially in my mind. Here are a few things I’m doing to savor the simple pleasures and everyday adventures of summer:
  • Compiling a summer reading list.
  • Tweaking my weekly schedule to allow for more reading-on-a-chaise and baseball-game-watching time.
  • Changing the slipcover on the couch from winter to summer.
  • Finding someplace indoors to get a cardio workout. Probably won’t be walking our fitness trail much until October!
  • Scheduling a pedicure.
  • Checking our hurricane supplies (Tropical Storm Andrea drenched us yesterday).
  • Plotting a weekend getaway to the beach with another family.
  • Looking for a day game in the Tampa Bay Rays schedule. There’s something so decadent about going to a baseball game in the middle of the week during work hours! 
What about you? Do you find you have a more laid-back state of mind during the summer months? Do you do anything special or different during summer? Please share.

Flowers

Season of Joy for the Bee

June 05, 2013


The poet and novelist Marge Piercy has a gift for writing about nature. In this poem, springtime has a nearly overwhelming and contagious energy, capturing the action-filled drama of spring. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

More Than Enough

The first lily of June opens its red mouth.
All over the sand road where we walk
multiflora rose climbs trees cascading
white or pink blossoms, simple, intense
the scene drifting like colored mist.

The arrowhead is spreading its creamy
clumps of flower and the blackberries
are blooming in the thickets. Season of
joy for the bee. The green will never
again be so green, so purely and lushly

new, grass lifting its wheaty seedheads
into the wind. Rich fresh wine
of June, we stagger into you smeared
with pollen, overcome as the turtle
laying her eggs in roadside sand.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Marge Piercy's latest book of poetry is Colors Passing Through Us(Knopf, 2003); her new novel Sex Wars (Morrow/Harper Collins) will be out in December. Poem copyright © 2003 by Marge Piercy and reprinted fromThe Paterson Literary Review with permission of the author. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Everyday adventures

The Graduate

June 03, 2013


Whew. We did it. It took all three of us, but we got him through the public school system. He graduated (with honors, even). Congratulations, Nick! On to the next adventure.


Children

It's the Beginning

May 29, 2013

Photo courtesy Sara Haj-Hassan

In honor of my son’s high school graduation tomorrow, here are a few graduation/growing up-themed quotes:

“There is a good reason they call these ceremonies ‘commencement exercises.’ Graduation is not the end; it’s the beginning.”
—Orrin Hatch

“The fireworks begin today. Each diploma is a lighted match. Each one of you is a fuse.”
—Edward Koch

And my favorite:

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
—e.e. cummings