Tag Archives: Books

One of the most enjoyable writing exercises I’ve done lately comes from a biographical poetry template based on a poem by George Ella Lyon. I came across it on Jeannine Quellette’s brilliant Substack, Writing in the Dark. The exercise is familiar to me in a distant way, as though perhaps I’d done it before but lost it. Or perhaps it suited me perfectly this past week because I have been contemplating writing memoir and fictionalized biography, so it seems as though I always had it—a poem about beginnings, and the echoes still heard, the lessons still being learned.

Thank you, Jeannine Quellette, for sharing the lesson! You can visit Jeannine’s website and read her poem, “From Chickweed to Ash,” here: https://writinginthedark.substack.com/p/from-chickweed-and-ash.

Here is my version:

Polished Maple Tables

I am from polished maple tables

From Pall Malls and Folgers

Green grass, Blue water, the whoosh of wind and wings

Flocks of seagulls

I am from Lilies of the Valley, Bleeding Hearts, Lake Michigan’s endless sand and waves

I’m from World War II, Ramblers, and Divorce

From Rachel and Frederick and William and Lorene

From Rae and Bill

I’m from long car rides and listening to albums on the stereo

From Mr. Wonderful and Stop Crying and What did you learn in school today?

I’m from no church, lost pets, and rented houses.

From a mother who scoffed at religious people

And a father who blamed organized religion

For the world’s woes.

But I’m also from Christmas trees and baking cookies, from bunnies and Easter baskets.

And I’m from the hand-written prayers I found in my father’s bedside table when he died.

I’m from Chicago and Kenosha

From Illinois, Wisconsin, and Minnesota

From Scots called Johnstone, and Swedes called Nelson

From ground beef casseroles, navy bean soup, and sour cream raisin pie

From Great Aunt Mary who broke up with her beau when he jumped into a fountain,

Never to wed, who lived with her sister Lorene’s family and then mine until The Divorce when she

Was sent back to Chicago to an old folk’s home

And Mother was hospitalized

I am from women who sewed and worked in libraries

and who cooked and cleaned other people’s houses.

And from men who sought love and adventure and worked on farms and in factories.

I am from Midwestern barefoot summers and sea glass and wandering the West

Restless and yearning for polished maple tables and a place to call home.

                                                                                                             RLP, 2025

If you would like to write your own “I Am From” poem, here is the template. Use it as a springboard. Jump in and adjust it to suit. I hope the writing brings you joy, or something like joy, which is sometimes as simple as finding a way to express the inexpressible past.

Blessings! And please share your poems in the comments!

                                                          Template: I Am From

I am from ________________ (specific ordinary item)

From ____________ (product name) and _____________ (product name)

____________ (adjective), ______(adjective), _________ (sensory detail)

I am from _____________ (plant, flowers, natural item)

_______________________________________ (description of above item)

I’m from ______________ (family tradition) and _____________ (family trait)

From ___________ (name of family member) and ______________ (another family member)

I’m from the _______________ (description of family tendency) and ________ (another one)

From ______________ (something you were told as a child) and _________ (another)

I’m from __________________ (representation of religion or lack thereof), __________ (further description)

I’m from ___________________ (place of birth and family ancestry)

_______________________ (a food that represents your family), ___________ (another one)

From the ___________ (specific family story about a specific person and detail).

Thanks for visiting! Wishing you all good things. With Love, Lori