I Am From...

 One of my greatest wishes is to turn back time and relive my life all again. One of the closest times that i came close to succeeding in this was in my last year of high school, when i enrolled in this course that required me to assist one of my favourite English teachers during his period one grade 9 English class. 
It was a wonderful experience because i got a second look at the type of person that i used to be. I got to see how time really can change someone, and best of all, i got to re-learn the lessons that i still remembered word-for-word from the teacher that i looked up to most. But this time around, i felt like i was the one being looked up to too. 


The students were assigned to write a poem entitled: "I Am From..." that i specifically remembered doing when i was their age. I decided to partake in the activity and as i read mine aloud, every one of their vulnerable little eyeballs turned to me - and watched - and listened to someone whom they perhaps wanted to be..
and in turn, to someone who wanted to be them...

Click "read more" to read my poem

I AM FROM

Grade 12 edition

written by: Arianna B

I am from a mother and an angel

Anna & Ugo

A 4 year old mind with vague flashes of memory

Star Trek.

Toe cracking

Front seat driving on his lap

And not knowing when it all ended.

I am from a divided soul -

Made of:

Orange Juice

Nutella

Raspberries

And remnants of John Lennon.

I am from wooden horses

And the number 57

Lilacs & endless miles of pebbles and grass

From lonely bike rides and spying on neighbours -

Just to be like Harriet the Spy.

I am from Nan & Nonno's green carpet

Dance parties to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack

And home made go-carts on long black driveways

I am from a nervous mind

And a royal blue dance leotard

Being disciplined too young and pale skin -

I am from the wrong body type.

 I am from reincarnation

The 60s and 70s

Peace fingers & grainy recordings of rock & roll

I am from the experimental life and recycled soul of a hippie.

I am from Torre De Passeri and mountain air

From misunderstood conversations - but beautiful nonetheless

I am from the Tuscan hills & tears

Venice & vicious pigeons

Rome & rocky cobblestones

I am from hopes and dreams and bombe and cappucino

I am from the death of my own present

And the dream of being in grade nine.