“Where I’m From” Submissions
Creative Writing and Poetry Class/ Pipestone Area High School
Pipestone, MN
Where I’m From
Adapted Brylie Uilk
I am from snowmobiles, from Skidoo and FXR.
I am from the snow under my track.
I am from the blizzards and the snow days.
I am from Snocross Racing and Makita tools, from Mark and Laura and Brendon.
I am from getting stuck and crashing.
From going fast to slowing down.
I am from the Savior who died on the cross for me.
I am from Minnesota, corn cobs and hamburgers.
From the first snowmobile my dad got to the first snowmobile that my brother got and the first snowmobile that I got.
I am from Germany and combing in fields.
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I Am From
Adapted By: Callie Lingen
I am from ginger ale,
From Shirley Temples to tomato juice.
I am from the green roof,
Where I played volleyball against the slant.
I am from the rhubarb plant
And the hay bales,
Where I would courageously jump across the gaps with my three-legged dog right on my tail.
I am from sugar cookies and fruity Trident gum,
From Susan and Jeffrey.
I’m from sweet corn
And pumpkin carving.
From endless fields and indescribable sunrises!
I’m from dirt roads and the never ending smell of manure,
Where neighbors are miles away.
From the summer breeze
And the rope swing out front.
I’m from the old silo that got tore down,
And the new tractors we bought.
From the massive bins filled with beans,
To the wagons transporting the corn,
The bright red wagons that told me fall was here.
I’m from my ancestors,
Who spent their time in Germany.
I am from my Opa and Oma,
Who never fail to teach me new things.
I am from music and books,
Late nights and early mornings.
I am from time spent cuddling with my cat,
While reading suspenseful books.
I am from those memories,
Memories that will last forever.
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Where I am From
By: Jenna Boeke
I am from photos from life and death.
I am from the green, rolling pastures and windy, gravel roads.
I am from the wild roses and perfumed lilacs.
I am from chili on Christmas Eve and prescription eyeglasses from mom and dad.
I am from the my-way-or-the-highway and keep your head up.
From I don’t know isn’t an answer and the world doesn’t revolve around you.
I am from I will not fear and the Lord is my strength.
I’m from thick blonde hair and glimmering blue eyes.
From fresh-baked Christmas cookies and Rice Krispie bars.
I am from late night board games and tv shows.
I’m from German ancestry and scrapbooks.
Where there are old photo albums, lockets, and blankets.
Black and white pictures of people I hardly know. Faces I never got to recognize
and branches holding up the blooming flowers.
Where I’m From
Davina Darveaux
I am from watching the Sunday afternoon football games
Ordering takeout wings or making our own
I am from a family of athletics and engineers
The holiday gatherings
Getting bigger and bigger each year
I am from opening my presents on Christmas Eve
With the smell of corn casserole and green bean casserole on the tables
I am from R&B, Christan, Hip-Hop, and Old Rock music
I am from a hardworking mother
I am from a house full of pets
With a candle always going
I am from a cute little yellow house
With popcorn walls and a broken garage
I am from pushing myself to do better
I am from doing gymnastics, dance, and track
Always trying to keep myself busy
From reading, playing video games, and watching Netflix
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Where I am From
Madison Purdin (9)
I am from an old farmhouse, from the creaky wood floors and the popcorn ceilings.
I am from the small of newly baked goods that I always got after my first day of school, from warm hugs and homemade sweet tea on hot summer days after bailing hay.
I am from the big tractor my dad made into a sandbox that quickly got taken over by cats.
I am from the many rows of corn and beans that surround my home,from the annual weekend trips to Okoboji, Iowa and the loud colorful rock concerts filled with life.
I am from the harsh and wise words of my parents when I did something bad.
I am from a big family where I am the only kid my age.
I am from hard work and sweat from the long line of Jerry Purdins, from tiny noses and strawberry blond hair.
I am from the first day of daycare where I met my lifelong friend, from the many plays we would laugh in together.
I am from the ups and downs of life, the good times and the bad times, this is what I am made of, this is where I am from.
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“Where I am from”
Elizabeth Sanchez
I am from oceanic waves,
From sea shells and salt water.
I am from the sandy porch outside my old home.
I am from the delicious plum tree in front of my grampas house,
The beautiful palm tree with a painted thick white strip at the bottom of the tree.
I am from the fun crazy family events,
And dancing like my crazy fun aunt and uncle.
I am from exercising outside in 90 degree hot humid weather
And coming back to my grandpa’s house for an ice cold mangonada.
From wiping my sandy feet before entering the house,
And always wearing shoes inside.
I am from a catholic household,
And holy church.
I am from texas,
Homemade tortillas and tres de leche cake.
From the jet ski flipping my sister in the air and almost drowning her,
And the tube my mom jumped in the water with.
I am from a sacred family picture my grandma holds in her closet.
Hopefully never ever to be lost.
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Where I’m From
Adapted by Sam Spaethe
I am from pizza on the counter from green olives and pepperoni.
I am from the lavender candles on the table.
I am from the red rose bush outside the house , the bright red pedals.
I am from homemade chicken noodle soup and family card games from Sandy and Jeff.
I am from the tendency to volunteer and to attend college.
From stop eating that and eat more.
I am from going to youth groups every Wednesday and Sundays.
I am from Minnesota , spaghetti and chicken alfredo.
From the ponytails getting cut off , the red and black scissors and the pancakes on the stove.
I am from the waterfalls , farmhouse and the playground.
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I am From
Adapted by Jori Strasser
I am from failure.
I am from undereating vegetables and overeating ice cream,
From losing to my towering brother while playing basketball in our driveway,
From lacking friends and confidence,
From elbows beat up, bruised, and scraped,
I am from mess-ups and insecurity.
I am from success.
I am from Winning basketball championships and acing quizzes,
From parents’ praise,
From compliments and affirmations,
From medals, ribbons, and A’s,
I am from validation and achievement.
I am from chaos.
I am from siblings shouting songs in the shower while I study,
And living rooms that will never be clean,
From my Grandpa’s offensive jokes,
And late nights watching Disney.
I am from imperfection and fun.
I am from peace.
I am from recreating classical melodies on the piano,
And biking along the Casey Jones in the warm summer breeze,
From AWANA verses I once memorized,
From gooey monkey bread on Christmas mornings.
I am from warmth and love.
I am from failure and success.
I am from chaos and peace.
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Where I’m from poem
Morgan Thompson
I am from home cooked meals
From cheerios and ice cream
I am from the yellow house that reminds me of sunshine
I am from the beautiful lilac bushes
The tall pretty evergreen trees.
I am from good cooked meals and grandmas cooking
From mom and dad and my family
I am from laughter and hard times
From Dr.Seuss and Clifford the Big Red Dog books
I am from the sound of people in the church pews
I am from Pipestone, Minnesota, a very cold place
From bedtime stories, family stories and recipe books
I am from Lake Benton where most of the family photos took place
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Where I’m From
By Macy Tollefson
I am from acrylic paint woven into the canvases.
I am from the ranch style house in a small town.
I am from the tall beautiful trees, the lilac bushes.
I am from birthdays, and sparkling brown eyes, from my mom and dad.
I am from the late night volleyball and softball games.
From manners and kindness, hope and thoughtful wishes.
I am from Christianity and faith.
I am from the warmth of the sun and the winter fresh air.
From fudge brownies and melted ice cream.
I am from the sunflower fields and the rusty swings on the playground.
I am From
By Lucas Zupp
I am from South Korea where the border is in sight
I am from my messy room my coat closet
I am from the kitchen where spaghetti is cooking
I am from Maple Trees swaying in the breeze
And the scent of rose’s which lay back with ease
I am from the cry of kids screaming, dog’s barking, and grass swaying
I am from pear fruit, to brothers fighting over the remote
I am from the history of my past, teh white and black pictures, dust off of each one being still
I am from the clouds moving gracefully above
I am from the faces of past times the snap and shake of the camera
I am from laughing and crying, sadness and joy, anxiety and nervousness
I am from pollen to seeds which make me sneeze
I am from the breeze the flowing of water and children splashing
I am from trees budding and snow melting
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Where I’m from
Adapted by: Olivia Lapthorn
I am from the middle of nowhere, from a small town in Minnesota.
I am from where the smell of pigs and cows meets the aroma of homey dinner food.
Where no one is a stranger and secrets are not kept secret long.
I am from a place where each building has enough history to create a chapter book.
I am from miles and miles of fields and pastures
with kernels of corn so yellow they look like gold teeth.
I am from a place where dreams of living in the big city seem unrealistic.
I am from blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
I am from the land of bratwurst and beer. I enjoy lefse for breakfast.
I am from strong personalities and opinions that can clash like the titans.
I am from a time where kids were raised by Hannah Montana and Wizards of Waverly Place.
I am from generations of catholics that fought hatred from others, from a place where God makes everyone family.
I am from a resort on Lake Carlos where sand volleyball can create tension that could be cut with a knife.
I _am from a place where food plus family equals happy campers.
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I Am From
Kaylee Backlund
I am from a soft brown couch,from blue dawn dish soap and white striped rags.
I am from the short white candle on the kitchen table .
I am from the birds chirping in the trees, the smell of fresh bloomed flowers.
I am from gathering on joyous holidays and red hair,from hope-filled eyes and full smiles.
I am from packing in the car and going to the lake and building blanket forts when we were small.
From cut the mustard and love you to the moon and back.
I am from wooden pues and aged hymns.
I am from ancestors who sailed across the great blue to a new land from Germany, oreos dunked in white smooth milk and tater tot hotdish.
From the one dress my great great grandmother made for my great grandma to wear on sundays,the old silo ,and the clear marbles that were once played with.
I am from the heavy old wood chest that stores memories with old shiny colored squares.Faces with smiles and joy.Pictures that make you wish you could be there.
I Am From
Jayla Kracht
I am from my old farmhouse style house
From moms freshly baked cookies and hand quilted quilts
I am from endless corn and bean fields
From newly graded gravel
I am from crisp country air with tall white wind turbines spinning in the wind
From the moise of tractors getting heavy work done
I am from so many familiar faces i have never met
From the reminiscing of memories from when they were alive
I am from the vacuum running all the time
From dirty farm clothes going in and out of the house
I am from the tall green grass in the ditch on either side as you drive down the road
From freshly ground corn stalks in the commodity shed
I am from the smell of antiques from my grandparents in the attic
From the worn edges of old pictures
I am from my one big happy family
I Am From
Ian Witte
I am from the old white house by the Salem church. I am from the comfort it brought me when the wind was howling outside. I am from the hot meals made by loved family members. I am from the soft green carpet and the sound of drinks us kids couldn’t have being poured. I am from the neighborhood where our neighbors were miles away. I am from the smell of manure in the open country and fresh tilled soil. I am from the dusty gravel roads that looked like clouds after you drove them.