FC: By Roopasree Jameshenry | Period:3-4 Online Poetry Portfolio 03-26-2012
1: TABLE OF CONTENTS | Poem Name......................Page Number Where I’m From poem........1-2 Self-Respect Poem..............3-4 My Mother’s Kitchen poem.5-6 Language Arts poem...........7-8
2: Where I am from | 1
3: Where I am From poem By: Roopasree Jameshenry | I am from sheet music, from songs and beats. I am from the garden where okra, chili, strawberries, and mint are grown I am from the lotus, the rose bushes I am from watching Super Singer on Friday nights and generosity, from Vidhya and Lakshmi and Raju. I am from the singers and the musically inclined. From Baba Black Sheep and Strawberry Kanne. I'm from Banglore, India, and yogurt and poori. From the blood my dad gave to my grandmother to save her life, the B positive blood detail, And the head my sister fractured on the playground I am from the many disposable cameras that took my pictures in my youth, The cameras that create mental picture of memories, The ones we look at now and laugh at, The ones that bring me joy. | 2
4: Self Respect Poem
5: Self Respect Poem | Sometimes I clean my room, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I sing well, sometimes I won’t. Depend on my mood, I might even sing for you. It really just depends on my mood. I’m not the average little Indian girl. And I ain’t your tiny little stereotype. But I learned that being unique is the best, Because I am the best at being unique. I’m not awesomely talented like a pop star. My worth is determined by the beauty within . No matter whatever happens to me, I will always be Roopasree Jameshenry.
6: My Mother's Kitchen Poem
7: My Mother's Kitchen Poem | What is that I smell? Is that the sweet aroma of a scrumptious cake? Or another sugary treat in the oven that my mother likes to bake? Could it be a chocolate pie? Or an octopus that died? The aroma, so yummy and full, I can’t help but wonder what it is. What is this mystery food? Could it be something new? What do I want eat today? A pastry puff or a creme brulee? Or a maybe something crunchy or salty, Like a samosa and a little bit of green chutney. What else can my mom create? A couple of green leaves on a plate? Draped with dressing, I’ve been following the aroma for a while now, Can’t wait to see what it is, Oh goodie It smells like strawberry cake, It tastes like strawberry cake, It is strawberry cake!
8: Language Arts Poem | Language Arts Poem
9: A language so intriguing, so mysterious, so different, Thoughts enthrall in my mind creating a brain storm, like a river, deep within its rapids, crashing upon one another. When put down on paper, they come in a nice stream, calm and beautiful sustaining beautiful wildlife. The thoughts are formed form letters, that form words, that form sentences, that form beautiful essays that change people’s minds and cause them to cry, Or smile, Forming smiles on children’s faces, Creating joy in their lives. Erasing every line that does not sound correct, Scribbling out words that do not flow properly, It is like traveling to a destination that is vague, Like a mission without a proper goal, Nothing to look forward to accomplishing. A mystery within itself, Something that is necessary to unravel and unwrap, To be shared with the world, This mystery is known as language arts, Something that we take for granted, And do not use to its full potential.