Poetry
I Am From
All these things
I'm from complicated horizons that unfold like an old yet beautiful rug that has wrinkles and rolls that won't be straightened out and dust that can't be pounded loose. It is the landscape I require to be myself.
I laugh imagining a gigantic Rumba suckling in gold that squeezed pure out of the earth's veins. Dust of souls from before the comet's floods, flying through today's polluted air. I'm from gold.
I'm from Diasporas, plural because there have been so many. Chasing gold, serving gold, escaping gold by the skin of their teeth. I am from the skin of our teeth.
I'm from escape. Gin and tonics but no armed service in an unknown tropic topic. My childhood was the answer and terrible eyesight inside and out. I'm escape from humidity, Southern Fried Chicken and debutant balls. I'm from my parent's hope.
I'm from overthinking, too early deaths, and silence. I'm from art and blueprints and paper that is a little bit wet. I'm from smells of the kilns, smells of turpentine and smells of smells of Jean Natte and coconut oil.
I'm from divorce and marriage. I'm from urban renewal. I'm from short friendships and lifelong friends. I'm from dares and scares. I'm from songs that cooled my flames, and music that caught me on fire.
I'm from complicated horizons. I'm from gold. I'm from the skin of our teeth. I'm from my parent's hope. I'm from art and blueprints. I'm from overthinking and the aroma of grace. I'm from music and drama. I'm from fear. I'm from chance and change. I'm from silence. I'm from love.
The “I Am From” poetry prompt is an ongoing prompt to writers to write their own lived experiences, so we can all find our humanity in the reflection of each other. An anthology of these pieces will be published in by year end 2024 by Garden of Neuro Publishing.
