Examine these I am from poem examples for a fresh perspective on your personality and experience. Then, using our templates, write your own.
I am from Poem Examples
An I am from poetry is one example of a personal poem. To create an I am from poetry, you must be prepared to discuss yourself and your origins. You may utilize imagery words to characterize oneself or to highlight descriptive personal characteristics.
I Am From poetry is most effective when they include strong sensory language—smells, tastes, sights, and objects you touch that remind you of home, family, and life.
While you might write an I am from poetry about oneself, you could also write one about a hypothetical or imagined figure.
In this article we have compiled some I am from poem examples showing you the various ways and styles in which I am from poetry can be written. Both to suit your style and also to grasp your audience’s attention.
1. Where I’m From (By Sage Hennequin Kuhens)
I’m from big blue herons to small river otters,
I’m from big Metasequioas to tall stalks of bamboo,
I’m from cousins that were unknown to the closest of friends,
I’m from my mom and dad to my lab-beagle dog, albino rats, and Madagascar hissing cockroaches,
I’m from roaring water falls to silent flowing streams,
I’m from terrifying Zombie walks and Scarowinds to a gentle princess-loving godsister and godbrother
I’m from pepperoni pizza to microwaved meatballs,
I’m from my inspiration station drawing and writing to a homemade book,
I’m from my old dog Chani to red-shouldered hawks,
I’m from Jack the magic clown to my weird parents,
I’m from a tiny baby to an educated sister showing baby MinMin what school’s like,
I’m from bold looking deer to relaxing foxes,
I’m from making a fire in the county to ridin’ in a cotton combine,
I’m from a fan of Alexa Vega and Miley Cyrus to a spy lovin’ tween (me),
I’m from playing with cockroaches with a friend to Joe and I together,
I’m from my heritages to Mom’s mystery heritages,
I have an opinion that none can change…life is great!
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2. Where I’m From (By Betty Lou Sarafin)
I am from blue collar roots in Pennsylvania
and white sheets on clotheslines in backyards.
I am from Ellsworth Elementary,
where we read Dick, Jane, Sally
and see Spot run.
I’m from hot June days eating popsicles
on the front porch; cherry, grape, and orange.
I’m from dress up with old curtains and
clean up in cast iron tub with claws.
I’m from being girly girl with my Barbie,
to tomboyish climbing trees by railroad tracks.
I’m from Sunday mornings at the Polish
National Catholic Church where mass
was delivered in the polish language.
I’m from public schools, distributive ed,
business schools, community college,
and two urban universities.
I am from the old house with too many
children she didn’t know what to do.
I am from generations of alcoholism and
as a child witnessing domestic violence .
From marrying at 21 and divorcing at 31.
Amazing, I have survived!
I am from a career in journalism and three
small businesses, Avon twice and animal care.
I am from newspapers, magazines, TV,
PR, advertising, cold calling, lipstick sales and
feeding, petting, walking, giving meds and treats
to dogs, cats, rabbits, chickens and goats.
Today, I am from small town Kentucky,
where folk art is plenty and a college
education can be obtained without debt.
From hiking the Pinnacle, to contra dancing,
to the Union Church, and where lemonade or
cocktails are served on the wrap-around porch
of Boone Tavern. I am from Berea.
3. Where I’m From (By Kim Kobersmith)
I am from a cross stitch pattern,
from Blue Bell ice cream and the space shuttle.
I am from the crawdad holes in the yard,
like hollow towers of mud pies.
I am from the sweet bluebonnet spring
and fireweed after the burn,
both reaching cheerfully to the sky.
I’m from reading and camping trips,
from Idamay and Robert Lee the third.
I’m from thrift and safety,
from both “Follow your heart” and “Choose security.”
I’m from a warm hug from Santa Claus turned pastor,
and a petition to ban “The Last Temptation of Christ,”
from Mom who is the last to leave.
I am from Chocolate Bayou and Ocean City,
fresh baked cinnamon rolls and whole grain bread.
From natural child rearing before it was a thing,
homemade dresses matching Mom and sister.
The pictures, the stories, are boxed up and hidden away
of a pastor, a union organizer, immigrants and businessmen
Waiting for me to connect to these roots of my family tree.
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4. Where I’m From (By Sandra Ganter Richmond)
I am from a hand wringer washing machine.
from Camay, the soap of beautiful women and vinegar with the mother.
I am from a wood outhouse.
afraid of falling through the hole.
I am from the still water pool,
Ripples from the lone pebble dropped,
then disappearing into nothingness.
I am from hunters and hand made bullets,
from Sarah and Harry.
I’m from staunch Germans
and guttural sounding words,
from No Back Talk and Respect Your Elders!
I’m from Everything comes from God
remember to be thankful
and help others.
I’m from the Boonies and hard workers,
venison and fried chicken livers.
From the fractured skull and jaw
when the tree fell on Dad’s head,
and the anger that lasted forever.
In the cold, damp basement was a rusted metal box
with faded dark pictures of Berlin,
German words and faces with no smiles.
At the bottom of the pile
The Statue of Liberty with a sun-filled and blue sky.
5. Where I’m From (By Felicia Hopkins Harlan)
I am from the bushes,
from poke salad
I am from the Harlan one-way streets and two lights,
Bloody Harlan, ginseng hunting,
It looked like mountains with a lot of bobcats in them.
I am from the daffodil,
I’m from Thanksgiving Dinner
and big noses,
I’m from the loud
From “You’ll sit there till you eat it all,”
And “The boogey man is under the bed.”
I’m from “You’re going to hell if you don’t mind your parents!”
And Jesus pictures on the wall.
I’m from Harlan,
Chitterlings and hash stew.
From the clock my grandma broke over my cousin’s head,
the time Denis got his finger about bitten off.
In a trunk at the bottom of the bed were all the family photos.
I am from the sticks and stems.
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6. Where I’m From (By George Ella Lyons)
I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I’m from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I’m from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments–
snapped before I budded —
leaf-fall from the family tree.
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Daily Time Poems.