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My Poetry Portfolio

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S: My Poetry Portfolio

FC: My Poetry Portfolio | Created by: Joel Pius | 10/22/10 | Block 2

1: Table of Contents | Where I'm From.........Page 2-3 Self Respect.............Page 4 My Mother's Kitchen....Page 5 Language Arts...........Page 6-7

2: I Am From My Memories. I am from well loved New American Bibles, from the priceless Nintendo 64, whose games outnumber my age, and from numerous broken drum sticks, all of which frustrated me beyond all limits. I am from my aged, but memory-ridden house, full with reminisces of former guests, uncles, aunts, and friends. I am from my sold two story house in Brooklyn, which fondled my memories for many years, before its inhabitants moved on. I am from the rose, whose defense is its prickly thorns, but its true form always reserved for the trusted. I am from a canna, standing up for what I believe in and accomplishing the once impossible. I am from relaxed, but from time to time tense family reunions, which always seems to become a mixed up family reunion and a great deal of generosity, from Lisa and Saly and Pius.

3: From the proficient Pokémon pugilist, who has never known defeat in the face of many friends, many of whom who were as dangerous as bears and the extreme reader, whose brains contains more than 500 books and copious amounts of knowledge. I am from exhausting trips to exciting retreats, which fill me with the spirit of joy, pleading prayers every night, asking for a first-class future, abrupt miracles of joy, and the comforting presence of Jesus. I am from boisterous, cramped, yet homely Brooklyn, where the people rule, the rich fruit salad, which somehow always ends up on my shirt and the accumulation of various Keralite foods with exotic tastes. From the show and tells of Lisa, the frequent Syro-Malabar Catholic church retreats with Mom, and the tradition of Cricket with Dad, in which the ball was an eagle, soaring through the air. I am from the dusty, but familiar basement, where memories of the long forgotten past await in anxiety. I am from the attic, whose plethora of new and old things know no boundaries.

4: Whatever you think. Sometimes I play, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I work, sometimes I won’t. Depend on my mood, I might even delude. It really just depends on my mood, just my mood. I’m not (the average) boy who you think I am. And I ain’t the quiet shy boy who you think I am. But I learned to speak up, to show my mind. Because I am important, yes, an important boy. I’m not worth nothing, I’m precious. My worth is not determined by appearance. No matter what I’ll always be me, regardless of whatever you think. I will always be myself, regardless of whatever you think.

5: My Mother's Kitchen Cooking up a storm, My wonderful mother, Stirs some special chicken and soup in a stainless steel pot, Ready to go in the scorching oven; Mixes varied vegetables with exotic tastes and unique flavors; And she takes a deliberate sip. Then she states, “Needs some Cadiappala*. Lisa, could you get me some Cadiappala?” Running outside at the speed of light, Lisa heads on out to pick some of the puny branches. 3 minutes later she arrives, Exhausted and out of breath, But clutching the prized branches, Which is taken away for cooking, when my mother sets her sights upon them. But alas! There is one brown branch among the green healthy ones! Taking it away with precision, Careful not to drop it in the soup, She disposes of it. Finally, After regaining her precious breath, Lisa utters one phrase: “Is it ready yet?”

6: GSMST GSMST, the best of the best, With you I’d never part, Through the thick and the thin, The low times and the even lower, I’d stay true to you. The greatest faculty, The greatest community, The greatest difficultly, And the greatest sympathy, You are truly a discreet one. Endless homework, Invasions of insomnia, Eternal studying, With those you lure the unsuspecting in.

7: A new beginning, A new ending, A new life for all of us to clean our slates; A time for us to focus and achieve, a time for us to make new friends, a time for us to be successful, Oh GSMST, you make the impossible possible.

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  • By: Joel P.
  • Joined: about 6 years ago
  • Published Mixbooks: 0
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About This Mixbook

  • Title: My Poetry Portfolio
  • Tags: poetry, portfolio, language, arts
  • Started: about 6 years ago
  • Updated: about 6 years ago

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