Thursday, September 27, 2012

In my Creative Writing class, our first writing piece was to be a story told through three or more different poems. I chose to tell the story of a fictional character named Lois.




LOIS PHD.

Stern  Stuff[1]

Lois drove for excellence, amid a tough pedigree,
The sixth of twelve children made her long to shine,
Be it on mountain or field, or with a college degree.

The women of her age were encouraged by society—
Rise quietly, marry submissively, live invisibly, but
Lois drove for excellence, amid a tough pedigree.

Her father forgot to raise his middle child as a lady;
Lois labored with her hands and sweat with her brothers,
Be it on mountain or field, or with a college degree.

With a fierce determination to either die or live free,
She entered college, the playground of men, because
Lois drove for excellence, amid a tough pedigree.

The dozen siblings made standing out a difficulty,
The disproportionate male campus made for hurdles,
Be it on mountain or field, or with a college degree.

So when Lois graduated from college, it wasn’t enough.
She sought her master’s, then doctorate in Phys. Ed.—stern stuff.
Lois drove for excellence, amid a tough pedigree,
Be it on mountain or field, or with a college degree.


Surge of the Motherly Urge[2]

When visiting the farm in the ripe spring
Inside did sing an aching
Desires that sting ‘till breaking.

Successful up until this mid-life stage,
She felt off, caged by learnt lives,
While pig, cow, sage grouse—all wives.

Not Lois, not she—wise, learnt, and lonely.
She felt homely, lost and plain,
Not womanly—no true gain.

She arose from a legacy of lots,
But now have-nots do haunt her
Heart where blank spots do saunter.

Her hard-earned title—a feather-light crown,
When not weighed down with hefty
Legacy’s gown—she’s bereft.

Lois’s start’ling revelation then,
From farmyard pen, is that she
Wants her own den—family.


The Fair Price to Pay[3]

Mud contrasted sharply with Lois’s ring while
Bud escorted her, like a lady, through the County Fair.
Thud after thud from the band beat through the
Flood of people working past the awkward pair.

One: lanky, petite, and delicate, pale in the
Sun that settled comfortably on his partner’s face;
Some would not understand their connection unless
From her circle, recognizing her biological race.

Strong and fit, Dr. Lois, PhD., had waited for a
Long time to have a family, and Bud was the best
Song in a limited album, so they strolled amid the
Throng, both quiet, thoughtful, at rest.

Then some kids ran by, Lois’s loose ring flew to the
Pen with pigs, dropping blithely into the black mud,
Ten or more grimy swine looking expectantly up,
Men, women, and animals alike staring down poor Bud.

Nodding weakly at his betrothed, Bud gulped and moved,
Prodding his legs over the fence, where he fragiley stepped.
Lauding crowds goaded, while Lois watched him inch towards
Rotting waste where the bright ring in thick mud was kept.

Try as he might, Bud feinted and reached, giving a small
Cry, yet the ring would not be got without stain.
Prying eyes couldn’t get him closer, no matter
Why the cause and Bud sighed and refrained.

Cooing a chirp of noble and independent disgust
Stewing inside of her, Lois leaped over the rickety fence,
Spewing mud everywhere, especially on Bud, her hands
Renewing acquaintance with the ring like common sense.

But instead of placing the ring on her mud-caked finger,
What Lois did was hand it to the bony-handed beau
Cutting him with the remark, “I’d rather spend my life with a
Mutt than a weakling,” and then she did go.

Cheated from the possibility of raising her own family,
Beat by time, circumstance, and her own resolute esprit,
See it as stubborness or determination, Lois drove for excellence,
Be it on mountain or field, or with a college degree.




[1] Villanelle Poem
[2] Englyn Penfyr
[3] Lento