FC: Daniela Ruiz Poetry Portfolio 3rd Block LA 22 October 2010 | P
1: TABLE OF CONTENTS | Where I'm From......................... 1-2 Self-Respect Poem...................... 3-4 My Mother’s Kitchen.................. 5-6 Language Arts poem................... 7-8
3: Where I'm From I am from buttermilk pancakes, from Aunt Jemima’s and celebratory breakfast pizzas I am from the stack of dirty dishes, piling high during vacation when mother was away, the scent of cut lemon and lavender the morning after, a speckles kitchen and full meal waiting downstairs I am from the lilacs and the red roses, whose threatening thorns I caressed on my days of play gardening, every leaf a new discovery to me I am from bonfires and bad handwriting, from Zacarias and Mary I am from the hard workers and the underappreciated From Shut Up! and Slow Down! I am from the pearl rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, abruptly taken down in the presence of a visitor and non-believer. I am from the flats of the highlands, glass-bottled Coke and fresh bread. From the day I broke my arm while riding on a bicycle, that dreaded machine I avoided for years, from the day I overcame my fears, and my brother cheered me on from behind I am from the dining room corner, piled high with electric bills someone forgot to recycle years ago, the aged spider webs covering up dulled smiles and a pair of yellowed white sporting t-shirts.
4: Self Respect Poem Who are you, stranger hiding behind the mirror? Beyond those jagged streaks the cut injured hand of their creator Soap-scummed tiles, a faded bulb. Where do you come from oh, stalker of mine? Why do follow my so close and smile at all my jokes? Why do you stop and stare, and syncronize my every word? Do I appeal to you enough? Do I intrigue you enough? Oh, please stranger tell me Why do you want to be like me?
7: My Mother's Kitchen The kitchen floor never looked so clean The plates never si neatly organized Washed, dried – Then carefully stacked in the cupboard Between the glass jars And outdated electric bills No longer did a ketchup stain Sit on the wall, A trail of coffe or leftover takeout Tonight the fridge lay silent And the stove again, Could breathe a flameless air The sink did not leak Or openly release tears Or excitement or sorrow But ran when told to And ceased as directed, Washing away signs of disorder Of chaos or life lingering Among those Dissolved in fabricated Lavender soap scents. This was no normal eve. Mother was away, And certainly had she not Been here Where had everyone gone? And who, For I knew my sister couldn’t have, Made all mess disappear?
8: Language Arts Poem For language arts, I wish to write I wish to start A poem that will last the night Beneath its words Between the lines Ii want to make it all But fine! Break the rules of holy grammar Smash it all With a hammer Letters grow And stanzas roar Sense becomes the fearful foe!