I am from baby dolls and Barbies,
mixed with Marlboro and Popov.
I am from the mud puddles in the backyard,
cool, comforting, and fun to throw.
I am from the delicate flowering crabapple tree,
the resilient sunflowers,
dazzling and ever reaching for the luminous sun.
I’m from chopsticks and teacups,
clashing in their cultural ways.
From lab coats and nightshifts,
parents who disappear in the growing shadows.
I’m from Brian and Jo Anne,
from military men and psych ward patients.
From “don’t burn you’re bridges”, “walk it off”,
and “life isn’t fair”.
I’m from critics and believers,
leaving me to find my own way.
From okaki and fish n’ chips,
though born in the rebel West.
I’m from the dragon tattoo on my father’s arm,
and the metal plates in my mother’s back.
Lost in childish fantasies and dreams,
I now see my past locked inside
the damaged photographs, the home videos and
the crumpled note in the back of my dresser.
I cling onto these fading memories,
all I have left after confusion and death.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem. The expression is quite emotional