Salt of the Sea

Wow. Logging in and looking around this blog for me right now is like coming home after a stint in jail. Which I did not suffer through, I simply got caught up in life.

I have been writing, and now that it’s summer I’ll begin to type up and post them. This first piece is a poem from The GLWI writing workshop for teachers – which has considerably less writing than I had hoped. It’s a poem modeled after “Where I’m From” and I got to read it to the entire workshop – which was more exciting than you’d think.


Without further ado….



I am from red Kool-Aid fruit cups.

From Mother Key Byrd’s church hats

greater than Colossus

with lace and feathers and

little birds on the fancier ones.

From japchae and kimchi and

white funeral dresses.

From the Mason Dixon line that separates Manors from Section 8,

I am from apartment complexes

Which held cousins and aunts and

I am from the salt of the sea.

Tears washed from Halmony as she stood by the river in Seoul

mingled with those of my wailing mothers

crossing the middle passage.

I’m from “love who you want”

fuck tradition.

From an Irish boy who

fell in love with a slave girl

and made a family the moment she knew freedom.

From downhome Friday fish-fries in Uncle Porters yard,

and skyping with Uncle Sung:

“Ahnyung Babo-ya!”

From Mottainai

till earth and heaven ring.

I am from two hippies who taught me to find God in all things.

From the course of true love is easy if you will it,

from star-crossed,

from “Move that mountain cause it ain’t nothing but a molehill anyway.”

From “It’s yours, baby girl”

Claim It


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