New poems from a class across the ocean.

Here is a class from Italy.  Their poems come to us from Silvia Rizzi’s 11th gradersand they are so welcome on these pages!

3M – 2020 – Grade 11 – Liceo Marconi – Parma (Italy)

“Where I’m from” – A River of Voices from one classroom


I am from music scores,

from waiting rooms and disinfectant.

I am from the creaking of the wooden see-saw

and screams and shouts.

I am from the sound of excitement,

wet clothes

and rain-soaked shoes

whose squeaky sound I remember.

I’m from fruits and bangs

from nauseating feelings 

no one ever knew.

I’m from nosebleed

and sweaty palms,

from “Eat up!” and “Get lost!”,

frequent words of my childhood. 

I’m from nasty toilets

filled with tears and name-callings

written with permanent marker

to make them indelible memories.

I am from “Noot Noot!” (Pingu’s chirping)

and Vivi’s laughter,

the only place I called Home.

Delicate Romeo’s meow

now replaced by heartbreaking silence,

the best listener I have ever had.

I’m from the feeling of emptiness

I couldn’t fill.

From the need of help hidden by a smile,

words I have never said

and changes that never came.

I am from the hope of being myself without being judged.

From a horrible society

and all I have to do is to express myself.

I’m from those moments

in which I need to strive to resist

as much as I want to give up.



I am from my mother’s womb

a woman that I love,

I admire a lot

and whose example I follow

I am from a city called Parma

from a house in Emilia Est street

I’m from the afternoons spent playing football with my friends 

and from karate lessons where I learned many things 

I am from my parents who love me

I’m from the twenty-first century,

from the news of the world

coming in everyday

From the pollution and the environmental disaster,

From the coronavirus and the distance lessons,

the Iphone 12, Whatsapp, Facebook and Instagram,

I’m from my second family, that is my friends,

From my grandfather’s stories and his lessons,

I’m from the strength to move forward,

from the fears of the future

and from the love of those who love me

From my strengths and weaknesses,

I am from many important choices that will change my life,

From dreams and desires that will become my future,

From a desire to fly,

I am from a world I have to discover yet

I’m from school, and that’s why I’m writing now.

Colosi Simone



I’m from the smell of tomato and beef on a Sunday morning,

from the long calls my “mamma”

used  to have with “nonna”

from here and there.

I’m from the Saturday afternoons spent riding my bike with dad,

from tears and bandages

from the smell of grass and bleach.

I’m from the sea and the fog, 

from the dollhouse and my books

from the fights with my sister.

I’m from sweat and fun 

from the swing and the slide

from the time at the park after a day at school.

I’m from the cartoons in the morning,

while eating a bowl of cereals,

from the sleepiness and the enthusiasm, 

from those pink Converse shoes. 

I’m from hot chocolate

from the movie: “The Aristocats” on a cold day 

from the blanket of Disney princesses and the pjs.

I’m from tangled hair and the conditioner,

whining while my mom was putting my hair in a ponytail,

from the relief of taking off that hairstyle.

I’m from a lot of hairbands and small hair clips.

I’m from those tall and green blocks, 

from the marguerite 

from the white and the yellow dandelion.

I’m from those moments, 

soon I’ll be from these moments 

from the most meaningless things,

actions and thoughts. 

Valeria Allarà 



I am from hot Lipton, drunk every morning to feel warm inside 

From detol and bobby pins 

I am from dolls hair (I didn’t like) to learn how to braid. 

I am from wanting to be a star to star dazzling at night. 

From wanting to be in that group (cool friends) to be left alone now.

I am from thousand tears turned into smiles. 

I am from staying in bed for days because of playing in the rain 

From parkouring to broken arm,

I am from mango tree whose leaves I used to create Origami. 

 I am from the bakery and toasted plantain 

From Margaret Fynn and Mary Fynn

I am from skipping ropes and junk food,

from “you’re good at dancing” and “you resemble your mom” 

I am from in the beginning He was the word to singing Hosanna. 

I am from Aunty Anita’s perfume rice and mint toffees,

From my dad wanting to go the USA but couldn’t,

from my mom stopping school because of family issues. 

In a drawer there is a photo album, 

Pictures taken from childhood to adulthood. 

I am from these happily snapped pictures,

continuing the story. 

Anita Asase



I’m from stars,

from the sky’s clarity at night. 

I’m from my garden trees, 

that I used to climb at age of 11.

I’m from summer,

my favourite season,

whose magic sunsets I can’t forget.

I’m from not sleeping at night and thinking deeply.

I’m from my orange vitamins in the shape of a bear,

from getting my clothes dirty eating cherries.

I’m from my shyness in front of unknown people,

from the anxiety I had before a gymnastics competition.

I’m from the dark years of primary school,

because of my mum’s health problems.

I’m from my dad’s stubbornness,

from his “get up!” and “get dressed!” in the morning.

I’m from getting out of hand,

because of the arguments with my little brother.

I’m from saying “I’m fine, thanks”,

even if I feel bad.

I’m from all those moments that have made me stronger,

enclosed in my heart that I will never forget.

Caputo Chiara



I’m from the smell of the rain,

from the countryside of Chianti.

I’m from the missing “C” in Tuscany,

from rose scents.

I’m from the embarrassment of speaking in front of so many people,

from crying over everything.

I’m from denim jackets and redbull,

from stuffed teddy bears.

I’m from looking out the window staring at the stars, 

from the moon and the breeze.

I’m from romantic films and listening to sad music on the bus,

I’m from large sweatshirts but also elegant skirts.

I’m from insecurity and sweetness.

I’m from going to the river near my house 

with my two little best friends 

when we were eleven years old,

I’m from trying to cook something and burning the kitchen.

I’m from losing the bus

 and getting angry if I don’t understand a math problem.

I’m from trying to be nice to everyone 

and receiving only wickedness.

I’m from the hen which  tried to take off my eye

because I wanted to touch one of her chicks,

I’m from all those things that characterize me 

and make me be myself.

Sindi Cela



I’m from my family 

Distant but close. 

From my grandparents’ vegetable garden,

From tomatoes and oil. 

I’m from the love of my parents 

From small gestures and extreme love.

I’m from Piergiovanni and Andrea 

Different and fundamental

I’m from the love of my uncle, 

Sometimes taken for granted. 

I’m from the pool 

Hated but at the same time

the only way of letting the steam off 

I’m from my uncertainties and fears

That are slowly disappearing

From teasing, 

From dark moments 

And from the changes 

Changes that saved me.  

I’m from my mother’s pies, 

From grazes 

And my father’s games.

From the sea,  

I’m from the days spent inside El corte inglés

from Malaga, home of memorable adventures. 

I’m from the evenings with my parents 

And unforgettable moments with my friends. 

I’m from love 

From happiness 

And hope.  

Camilla Concari Valsega



I am from the big walnut tree

from big family gatherings during the holidays

I am from the books I put over my head

(loyal friends, my secret ace,

 they tasted like spices.)

I am from the yellow slide I saw 

only in a photo

those 2 pigtails with white flakes

skirts and shirts like a female musketeer.

I’m from Stephen the Great and Peter’s table

 from Trajan’s Column and Stalin’s power

I’m from a pair of cherries as earrings

and “smooth – haired puppy”

from “I know it will rain soon” and “What a formidable memory!”

I’m from the album I leaf through

every time I come home

and the streetlamp with my best friend’s writings

I’m from Easter and its red eggs

fruit salad at Christmas 

From having more than one name

    -such a popular kid I am –

from the wedding dress shop and the swan rides

In my country house,

fleeting time slows down

friends and memories

the so-called Middle Ages feels like Heaven 

I’m from laughing until I have a stomachache

my accent is my home country 

following me wherever I go

Cononov    Nicoleta   



I am from a field,

in front of my house,

from its smell

of cut grass.

I am from a ball,

the little ball I always kept between my feet 

lying in my crib.

I am from my puppies

(sweet, nasty, watching over my rest)

from my dolls, my magazines and my purple glasses,

from my dental braces,

my guardian angel for over

5 years.

I’m from the house of my paternal grandparents, 

from the radiator and a dangerous run, 

a wound on the eyebrow.

From a mountain, a broken branch, 

a wound on my forehead.

I am from these scars,

reminder of a carefree childhood,

a bud about to bloom,

a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. 

Cornetti Elisa



I am from mint,

from tea and its foam poured from above.

I am from the smell and the voices of the market.

(Fruits, vegetables, bread

that tasted like clouds.)

I am from the terrace

where there were clothes washed by grandma’s hands

and stretched out using blue clothespins.

I am from prayers and the mosque,

          from Casablanca and Tangier.

I am from the load of donkeys

     and from expensive taxis.

I am from dirty neighborhoods

     and from my curious neighbors.

I am from the soft silk

 that covered the whole body.

I am from the Suk

   from the soul of the country

fried corn, colored popcorn,

  and orange juice that cost two Dirham

I am from trained monkeys

that had whiter teeth than my uncle

   and from long hypnotized snakes

Under my bed there were sweets for the Hid

 and sunflower seeds that Mom liked so much,

Under my bed there was my greatest dream

 a family photo representing all my happiness,

Under my bed there were fallen leaves

 and shed tears of our family tree.

Oumaima Labhar



I am from the lawns coloured by flowers,

from snowy mountains.

I am from the taste of warm bread

freshly baked,

after so many hours of waiting.

I am from the stone and the wood

with which my father built many houses,

from the stray cats my mother took care of.

I am from the smell of the manure,

from the ringing of the bells.

I am from low temperatures,

heavy jackets and large scarves.

I am from my passion for dance,

from my first pair of ballet shoes

and my first stage dress.

I am from my family

that always supports me.

I am from the million stars I saw in the sky,

from the smile when I used to cook cakes

with my grandmother.

I am from the photos I didn’t want to take.

I am from people who disappointed me

and people who made me happy.    

I am from what made me

what I am.

Jasmine Lale Murix


I’m from the rides on my bike 

and the pain it caused.

I’m from my mum’s perfume 

and the smell of her hair.

I’m from the laughs 

and jokes that my father

 and I used to share.

I’m from the snowy days 

that froze my hands

but my nest was warm and 

thawed them again.

I’m from the orange walls of my nursery

school and my little Teddy bear 

to keep me company.

I’ from the swings and the slides 

that went up and down 

I’ from the screams of joy of those sunny 


I’m from being on only child

until a screaming new bundle,

arrived from the stork 

I’m from hoping it would fly away 

but soon realising it was staying.

I’m from loving my brother  

from sharing my little Teddy bear 

I’ from those moments

that has changed my life. 

Valeria Marangoci 



I am from unspoilt nature

        from 8 hours ferry-trip,

      from fine sand and crystalline water.

I am from tradition,

       bike rides on Sundays,

       holidays in August,

       coffee with neighbors every weekend

    and arguments with Ele every day.

I am from changes and discoveries

        of new cultures and countries.

I am from non-stop-speaking

        and from “don’t throw it on the floor”.

     From non-stop-wondering,

 I am from voyages.

I am from the wild soul of a horse,

        from peace and light-heartedness.

 I am from the freedom

                 of words,

                  of thoughts,

                   of actions.

                                        Silvia Mulas



I’m from the smell of freshly baked cookies.

From the rainbows.

I’m from all that is colorful,

that intrigues and amazes.

From the dance in all its shades,

carefreeness and happiness.

From the runs in the garden to play hide and seek

the screams of joy

I’m from the strength of my grandfather

and his famous French fries

I’m from the kiss he gave me on the forehead 

before he left.

I’m from the sea which is my safe place 

when everything goes wrong or alright

From the cold winter and hot summer

from a wisteria with my favourite colour.

I’m from the concerts and that emotion

I feel every time I see one.

I’m from all these special little things

that other people don’t even notice.

                                                             Nigro Alessia


I’m from balls, 

I’m from mud and my dirty knees. 

I’m from hospitals and operations, 

from scars that mark my life. 

I’m from moments that have characterized me, I’m from dangerous experiences, 

I’m from visions and the moment 

when I saw the famous “white light”. 

I’m from my family, 

from my parents who work every day

and who are always present, 

from my sister who would do everything for me

I’m from CSM, 

from banners and flags, 

from choreography and colors, 

from the smell of paint. 

I’m from my friends and my football team, 

from our quarrels and misunderstanding, 

from our moment of joy

that we have always shared. 

I’m from my passions, 

from my dreams, 

from hard work to make them.

Leonardo Pedrelli 



I’m from the oak in my garden, 

planted the day I was born.

From the hazelnut, from which I secretly 

                                    collected lots of nuts. 

From the scent of fresh muffins,

prepared by my father, 

and from homemade pizza. 

From the musty smell in the loft, 

center of my memories. 

I’m from family Christmases, 

From Christmas’ Eve at great-grandma’s

and from Christmas Day with my cousins 

                                             at grandma’s. 

I’m from Marzia and unfortunately Silvano,

who left me and my family with nothing.

I’m from bee stings,

From my skates and the resulting falls.

From the finger I almost lost to the bike chain.

I’m from my parents and their weird nicknames

I’m from animals, 

From my dead cat, Pizza 

(she didn’t want to be touched by anybody,

 except my father)

and from my dog Scooby.

I’m from my family,

From my friends and all the good and bad things

                                                    we did together.

I’m from the ballroom dancing with my dad

and from the music.

I’m from my beloved flute, 

Thanks to which I can infuse many emotions.

But most of all I’m from those moments, coming

from my memory drawer, lived with the people

                                                                 I love. 

                                                                             Rebecca Pelosi



I’m from drawings on the walls, 

from bicycle crashes and wet asphalt.

I’m from car trips

(with a lot of luggage, as for a move).

I’m from neighbors’ jasmine

and sea shells

that I loved to pick up and collect.

I’m from shyness and being photographed against my will,

from the sprinkler in the park and the adventures with my cousins.

I’m from envy and insults, 

from “You’re old enough!” and “You’re still young!”.

I’m from invented languages,

and mourning.

I’m from quarrels with Paola and the sermons of my mom

that I know by heart.

From horses decorated like a Christmas tree,

freshly baked bread and colorful croissants.

I’m from the smell of mom and the pillows used as a shelter, 

from Pimpa and Spotty books.

I’m from snow fights and walks with dad,

from choreographies shown to my audience.

I’m from opposite cultures and large families,

from the expensive car and the old camper.

I’m from Chicco and Maya, 

from mummy’s tiramisu and milk rusks.

I’m from the summer camp and the after-school classes,

from laughter in company and crying in solitude.

I’m from those moments,

photographed by the eyes of a little girl 

in a big world.

Sara Rosati Modica



I am from the Plasmon cookies,

from the “Magic Holiday Barbie” and the “Ty toys”

I am from the daisy crowns in my grandma’s garden 

(the best way to inaugurate spring).

I am from the chocolate eggs found after so much effort 

on the hunt for Easter eggs at my best friend’s house 

I am from my mom’s vanilla cookies eaten before church 

from my dad’s 60s Spotify playlist every Sunday morning 

full of songs like “Tequila” by The Champs. 

I am from my summers in Milano Marittima

and Merano 2000 winters.

From the Christmas’ school parties,

when parents used to cry for each single song.

From Lucia Perego’s dance academy 

and Teatro del Cerchio actor studio. 

From “Justine finish your homework!” 

and “hurry up, we’re late!”:

I am from the Parco Ducale’s “grilli” (small racing vehicles for kids),

I could never take a ride without crashing into a tree.

I’m from Tata Maresca and Maestro Jacopo.

From Andrea’s scrunchies 

given to him as a marriage promise 

in the elementary school backyard. 

In my mind there will always be a box

spilling all these memories 

as George Ella Lyon’s box does with pictures,

and the bow that closes this box has embroidered the phrase “made with love”

my mom’s typical phrase

she used to write it on light blue post-its

next to my breakfast in the kitchen 

before leaving home.

Justine Russo



I am from Disney cartoons

that fed my dreams

I’m from hot tea and sweet honey

from my mum and me 

playing board games

in cold autumn afternoons.

I’m from my pictures 

my first friends

my first way of expressing myself

I’m from Camilla and Valeria 

my closest friends 

who have never left me.

I am from travels around the world 

that like bricks 

have raised the walls of my personality

I am from rock music 

Kiss, Elton John and David Bowie.

I’m from the walnut tree in the garden

my second home

I’m from my grandfather 

I’ve never seen

I’m from my cat 

my best friend 

that left us too soon

without saying goodbye.

                              Santi Sofia



I’m from shots and screams,

from a city with bad dreams.

I come from an infinite love,

but without paternal love.

I’m from memories that I would like to forget

quite the opposite of Monet.

I am from where certain things are more appreciated,

where a kiss is immediate.

I’m from discriminations,

but in the end, your origins are just a clarification

I am also from a “welcome!”,

which made me feel at home

to me and to my family foursome.

I’m from a sabbatical year,

with a great desire to do

but without fear.

I am from “a piece of bread”,

my grandfather, that treated me

like his daughter.

I come from dreams come true,

 but I will go on and have many to design.

I’m from you, dear Alessya.

I’m from a little girl,

that has hated herself for years.

Now you can say that you are strong,

 that you are worth a lot

and for the people you love,

you will always be a shoulder to cry on.

Alessya Scotto



I’m from two heroes

that turned my life into a dream.

I’m from the nights my father spent working,

his sad and tired face when he drove me to school.

I’m from the little smile my mom gave me

before I left home.

I’m from the hard work of my grandfather

that I never met.

I’m from the “you’re different”,

and the strength to stand again.

I’m from the strawberry candy 

given by my teacher as encouragement.

I’m from my skin color

that made me a special little girl.

I’m from the fringe and the ponytails.

I’m from the first bad mark,

disappointment for my parents, an important teaching for me.

I’m from the stories and perfumes of India,

from spices and lovely clothes.

I’m from Bollywood,

the colors and feelings that made me dream.

I’m from the soft red ball

I used to throw at my brother.

I’m from these little things and these special people.

Living my life with a smile,

giving importance to every single detail.

Jaspreet Kaur Singh 



I’m from evenings spent with my nose towards the sky 

to see airplanes fly, at the age of four,

from my father’s coveralls that tasted like beets 

and from my mother’s vacuum cleaner. 

I’m from the corner of elementary school, 

from “you are like a beaver, you can’t stay with us” 

I’m from the braces worn for four years. 

I’m from the dribble and from the bump

in which I poured my anger,

from the back brace who prevented me from continuing, 

I’m from growing up too fast, 

from being fourteen, 

I’m from first cries for love, 

from first disappointments, 

I’m from late nights alone, 

from high music in the ears 

to get away from my thoughts. 

I’m from 9 march 2020, 

from 3 months stuck at home, 

from the pizza cooked in quarantine

I’m from drastic decisions, 

from dying my hair blonde, 

from attempts to escape from everything

I’m from the feeling of being misplaced, 

from the desire for revenge

I hope one day can heal everything. 

                                                         Sormani Giulia



I am from my messy, curly, red hair.

From the sleepy voice when I wake up.

From the croissant stuffed with cream 

and hot cappuccino for breakfast.

I am from the places I visited

and from the long journeys by car.

From my sunglasses, the peppermint granite, the sunset watched on the seafront.

I am from all the books I read

and the hot chocolate drank near the fireplace.

From the songs sung at the top of my voice when I knew I was alone.

I am from the cries made at two in the morning

and from laughters till my belly ached.

I am from everything I believe in

and from the photographs hanging in my room.

From the boxes of old clothes piled in the closet

and from those let dry under the porch in the shade.

I am from the sunrise watched on the bus at the seven in the morning.

I am from my constant attempt to improve myself.

From all those people who love me.

I am from the things done in a hurry

and my sudden change of mood.

I am from those moments that have made me what I am

and raise a smile every time I think about it.

Martina Tosini



I’m from skinned knees and crocodile tears,

strawberry-flavored lollipops by the sea.

I’m from broken hearts and big regrets,

I am from the wool jumpers made by grandma,

from tea at four o’clock.

I am from the cuddles my cats give me,

from sleepless nights spent weeping.

I’m from the cry of a rooster at dawn every morning,

from unconditional love for other people.

I’m from mushrooms picked in the woods with my dad at five in the morning,

I’m from two skates with four wheels that have brought me happiness.

I’m from anxiety and fear not to be up to it,

from my grandmother’s “Bye Anna” said a second before she died in a hospital bed,

from long phone calls with my best friend who lives in Paris.

I am from the Minnie disguise I wore at every carnival.

I am from my mum’s warm arms,

from the letters written to Santa Claus and his magic.

I’m from fireflies in summer nights,

from the shooting stars of San Lorenzo and from those wishes.

I’m from long suffering,

I am from a world where it is very difficult to feel at home.

Anna Zanetti

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