Here is a heartbreaking series from Morehead that speaks for itself! (For a better look at the pictures go to the Facebook links under the pictures)
Where I’m From
I am from the projects,
from drug deals and break in’s.
I am from the piles of dirty laundry
(Smells of mildew and musk.)
I am from the fragile rose bush that never grew many roses,
the stump where the tree I loved to climb used to be.
I’m from overly decorated Christmas trees and pretty brown eyes,
from Crystal and Clifton.
I’m from the determined and the independent,
from quit asking and we don’t have the money.
I’m from love thy neighbor and keep thy faith.
I’m from Evansville and East 19th Street,
From home fried chicken and fresh picked greens.
From a mother who didn’t care to be around
to a father who was always there.
From storage rooms, burnt down houses, and places unknown.
From tears of a hurt mother, broken father,
and a girl who needs more than just a picture.
I am from the long nights spent crying wishing I could see you again.
K.W. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from shattered mirrors,
from Cover Girl and Mary K.
I am from the desire of money,
(Popping a rubber band sent chills down my crooked spine.)
I am from a diamond on every wife’s hand, the rebel of forbidden fruit.
I’m from tight skirts and determination
From Dana and Eric.
I’m from fast money makers and jailbirds,
From struggle and earn it.
I’m from the Book of Jezebel, someone you wouldn’t want to be.
I’m from the streets of Louisville, Cecil and Greenwood,
Honey and vinegar.
From the dying grounds of struggling survivors,
To the unstable homes and broken glass left to destroy someone else.
I am from the picture of a face, young and beautiful, who lived long and fast. The shadows that follow the glare of her eye that indicates tired.
D.W. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from tears,
From hair dye and perms.
I am from the shots fired
(Loud, an echoing sound.)
I am from the tar on the street, the tar I’ve walked on alone and lonely many nights.
I am from Chitlins and loud mouths,
From Jennifer and Leondra.
I’m from the argumentative and the nosey,
From fight back or get beat up.
I’m from He is the almighty one who has saved me
And with him all things are possible.
I’m from Cairo and Illinois
Pig Feet and Hot Water Cornbread.
From the Father who did everything because of drugs,
To the mother who tried to change but failed.
I am from the bag of pictures in the closet of my basement. From the necklace and ring that were passed down from generation to generation before me in my grandmother’s jewelry box, now in my top dresser drawer. I hope to pass them down to my children and then they will pass them on to theirs.
R. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from blankets,
From Downy and Tide.
I am from the quiet room filled with a sweet melody of my mother’s voice
(Strong and bold yet sweet, like my father’s coffee.)
I am from apple and the oak trees I swung under in the light summer breeze.
I’m from parties and happiness,
From Darrell and Diana.
I’m from the you’re too quiet to the you’re too loud,
From the you are strong to the your too smart for your own good.
I’m from the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,
with devotionals and scriptures whispered to me daily by my grandmother.
I am from Clarksville and Germany,
Steak and Whiskey.
From the loss of my uncle to a drunk driver on a windy autumn night
To the arrival of my little brother brought here by the stork I’ve never seen.
I am from the golden hat box stored in the darkest corner of my closet that no one can see full of special things just for me of everything I’ve lost to what I’ve always hoped to see.
S.W. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from the streets,
From the hoods and gangs.
I am from fights, guns and drug sells
(The things that get you into trouble.)
I am from Angel Wing Caladiums, the angels that never gave up on me.
I’m from loyalty and riders,
From Brenda and Ruben.
I’m from the south side and the shootings.
From the say something’s and the pipe down’s.
I’ m from Beauty and the Beast and the real world.
I’m from Scott and Southward,
Fried chicken and BBQ’s.
From the date of my daddy’s death
To the memories of us happy, the day before and the day after 11:03:12.
I am from photos and memories you left us here with, to learn and be happy from. I am from this
life that you made for me, that I want to keep living. It is my time to shine.
S.S. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from cell phones,
From Facebook and Instagram.
I am from anger and tension,
(When you walk through the door, heads hang low.)
I am from roses, the red ones representing a touch of love.
I’m from family gatherings and cancer,
From Susan and Greg.
I’m from the sit down’s and shut up’s,
From get a job and move out.
I’m from going to church every Sunday and praying for the ones I love,
To now questioning my faith.
I’m from Germany and Waco,
Ramen Noodles and pizza rolls.
From the time cancer took my papaw away, leaving me and my brother abandoned to deal with this cruel world alone, because everyone else was too busy,
To my nana losing her eye sight and couldn’t afford to pay, and her stating her days were slowing fading away.
I am from shoe boxes full of precious photos from under my mother’s bed,
often thought of, but never looked at, as if to forget who we were.
R. MYDC
(Below are some more poems – the students did not have a chance to finish their paintings)
Where I’m From
I am from a bicycle with no brakes
From Apple products and Victoria Secret.
I am from cherry pie candles
(When they were burning they smelled good enough to eat.)
I am from the withered roses from funerals that I lay under my bed
and the morning glories my granny planted that grew up the fence.
I’m from backyard barbeques and tough love,
From a mother who became sick and a father who abandoned me.
I’m from the sky is the limit and patience is a virtue,
From struggles to stay sober and the courage to get along.
I’m from the miracle of another day after three days of death
And God is my Father.
I’m from the big city of Louisville and everybody’s favorite place Newburg,
Brownies with ice cream and chocolate syrup and homemade loaded potato skins.
From the 12 step narcotic anonymous meetings,
To trust in good orderly directions.
I am from photos in a box under my granny’s bed, I looked at them a lot and thinking about being and living in that moment, when people looked happy, and I wanted to be happy, just like I am wishing for happiness now.
C.H. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from backwoods,
From wintergreen and Redwings.
I am from the staining of a walnut
(Smearing on my hands like coal.)
I am from cherry trees, and aloe plants that kissed the burns on my skin countless times.
I’m from smashing cakes and family musicians,
From Jamie and Michael.
I’m from the “suck it up” and “rub some dirt”.
From quit mumbling and talk slower.
I’m from the Fruit of the spirits to live by,
And New Testament books I can say to myself.
I’m from Starfire Hill and Oil Springs,
Deviled eggs and macaroni tomatoes.
From the stroke that took my grandpa’s life,
To the ache of nana’s back when it rained.
In my closet is a weary, faded blue suitcase,
An old fashioned lock holding memories in.
I am these moments ones I long to remember and
will soon forget.
M.M. MYDC
Where I’m From
I am from abandoned houses,
From open doors and boarded up windows.
I am from the dark streets,
(Where it is easy to find trouble.)
I am from some bad thoughts and some bad ways, but I just
went ahead and took it all with a grain of salt.
I’m from street smarts and bad attitudes,
From Ricardo and Menesha.
I’m from noise makers and dream breakers,
From the feed yourself and hold your owns.
I’m from I believe what I see, religion wasn’t really for me.
I’m from dark alleys and shady streets,
Andy’s chicken and Burger King’s burgers.
From not sitting at a kitchen table,
To eating with the tips of my fingers.
I am from unphotographed memories but pictures burned in my mind.
R.T. MYDC