Marina Scobie

Dr. Warner

ENGL 112B

December 2, 2009

 

Wanting: A Collection of Poems

 

            Wanting is a collection of free verse poems primarily narrated by fourteen-year-old Elizabeth. This collection of poems is unique in that Elizabeth has been raised by her father, as her mother is entirely out of the picture. As a young teenager, she faces the typical challenges of growing up--family crises, puberty, etc.--but without a mother, she possesses a sense of loss, made deeper by the revelation that her mother chose to leave her. While this emptiness remains with Elizabeth at all times, emerging within many of her poems, it is also subtle and nuanced. Additionally, there are poems that are not concerned with her loss, but with the ordinary experiences occurring in her life.

            In addition to Elizabeth�s poems, I have also written three concluding poems from the standpoint of her mother. In creating these, I wanted to give the mother more complexity. Although she appears selfish for abandoning her baby, these poems offer insight into the anguish she experienced as a teenage mother.

            In crafting all of the poems, I aimed to capture the feeling of a journal. Several of the poems by both Elizabeth and her mother are not titled, but set apart by a specific date and time. These dated poems serve to establish a general narrative, while the remainder of the poems offer moments of insight into Elizabeth�s mind. In doing this, I wanted to create a stream of consciousness that is punctuated by moments of deep thought and introspection, mirroring the thought process of a teenager.

            Additionally, in creating this collection, I wanted to offer a voice for any teenagers living in unconventional situations. Additionally, Elizabeth�s experience, while less common, is not unheard of, as I have personally known a young woman who experienced growing up knowing that her mother did not want to know her. Had she found something like this collection, she might have benefited from seeing that she was not alone.

 

 

 

 

 

1. April 15, 5:27 A.M.

 

The phone rang out loudly

Because Gram had called to say Pop was sick.

�He�s coughing blood,� Dad told me,

�But I�m sure he�ll be just fine,�

�We come from strong stock,� he said.

But I could see the slithering red squiggles

In the whites of his eyes.

And when he rubbed the back of his head

Where his skull meets his neck,

I too could feel the stinging ache

In the secret red depths of my throat. 

 

2. April 15, 6:45 A.M.

 

Dad drove us to the hospital.

His hands looked like they were trying to strangle the wheel

His strong arms rigid and unmoving.

And I wondered who was most afraid,

Dad or Pop?

And I felt so bad and sad.

Sad for Pop

And bad for being just a little bit happy to get out of school.

 

Inside the hospital,

Dad held my hand tight

When we saw Pop,

Tethered to a tangle of tubes and wires that went

Beep, beep, beep.

Drip, drip, drip.

And I wondered who was most afraid,

Me or Dad?

 

Gram put her arms around us

Pulling me in so tightly that I nearly drowned in her smell,

So powdery sweet

That I didn�t want to let go.

And I wondered

Did Dad ever noticed this

When he was a boy?

Or does a mother�s smell go unnoticed

By those who have one.

 

 

3. My Heart

 

Sometimes my heart

Feels like it�s going to explode.

It beats so fast that

I imagine plunging my fingertips

So deep inside

That I hit my skeleton.

I would pull

Rip even

Tear my bones away

To relieve the pressure sitting on my chest.

I�ve never told anyone

They would think I was crazy.

 

4. Growing Up

 

Two years ago

I woke up

In a pool of blood.

At first I panicked,

I thought I was dying.

But calmed down

When I noticed

It seeped

From between my legs.

I was so mad

At myself.

I wasn�t ready.

 

5. April 19, 3:45 P.M.

 

They coddle me

Trying to create distance.

I heard them talking before the service,

Saying it wouldn�t be good for me to be there--

To keep me away.

But I wanted to say goodbye

Like everyone else.

 

So I hid myself

Between the curtains and the world.

I pushed back against the window glass

To draw its warmth through my dress,

And force it into my blood--

And catch its secret deep inside me

To hold it prisoner

In case I should need it.

 

Soon enough they forgot I was in the room

And they finally felt comfortable

Crying into the coffin.

 

 

6. Yellow Mercedes

 

Tammy�s mom drives a yellow Mercedes

It�s old, I can tell

But the leather inside is nice

And Tammy and I can push

The palms of our hands deep into its grooves

Until they retain the bumps and pocks

Of the seat.

 

Tammy�s mom drives us everywhere

In that old Mercedes,

To bowling alleys

And Taco Bell,

To the movies

And the mall.

 

And when we get out

She makes sure to say goodbye

To both Tammy and I

But to Tammy she gives a hug

And says that she loves her so much,

While I stand silently on the curb

Dying to run away 

From that old yellow Mercedes.

 

7. June 13, 3:00 P.M.

 

Stepping down from the bus

I worry I�ll trip and fall

Get lost in the crowd

And forgotten

Beneath the steel.

But today I got off,

With Matt Fabian holding

My hand.

For now

I am

Safe.

 

   

8. June 14, 5:05 P.M.

 

Ninth grade

Is over

Has ended

Thank God.

 

Summer offers

Freedom in

Sunshine glow

Thank God.

 

9. Looking for Her

 

I look for my mother every day

In the faces of random strangers.

I don�t know what she looks like,

Only having the yellowed photos

Dad keeps in ratty envelopes

Tucked in the backs of drawers

Throughout the house.

I like to think that I would recognize

Her long auburn hair

And the round cheeks

That smiled long ago

But for now

I�ll never know.

 

10. Dad�s Girlfriend

 

Miriam tries

To act like a mom

But I think

She thinks

I am a project.

Playing with my hair

And showing me how to wear

Makeup.

Makeover

Make believe

Make shift

Mother.

 

 

 

11. To Eat

 

I cook

Dad cooks

Mom cooks.

 

I cook

Cold cereal

In red ceramic bowls.

Dad cooks

Ham and cheese

Wrapped neatly

In brown paper bags.

Mom cooks�

For her other

Kids

Family.

Dad and I cook

All kinds of

Deliciousness.

 

12. July 1, 12 P.M.

 

Dad teaches summer school

Because being a high school

History teacher

Doesn�t pay all of our bills.

But he�s come a long way

From a nineteen year old

Sleeping on Gram and Pop�s couch

With a baby

In his childhood bedroom.

Yes, he has come a long way

After years of working all day

And going to school all night,

So I wish that this year

He would ditch summer school

And take us away

To somewhere extraordinary

For just a little while.

 

 

13. January 4, 1993

 

The phone rang throughout the house

On the line, my doctor

Calling to share

The �good� news

That I am going to be a mother.

I hung up abruptly

Not knowing what to say

And when my mother asked

Who phoned

I lied.

 

When I called James

To share the news

That he is going to be a father

He laughed.

�I hope it�s a boy,� he said

His smile audible, pulsating

And after I hung up

I sat down

And cried.

 

14. April 9, 1993

 

Seventeen.

Pregnant.

Whore.

Hopeless.

Drifter.

Dreamer.

Lover.

 

   

15. July 26, 1993

 

To Elizabeth:

 

I�m sorry that

You hurt me

So much that

It�s difficult

To look at you.

 

I�m sorry that

I don�t feel

It

When I look

Into your eyes.

 

I�m sorry that

Although you look

Somewhat like me

You remain a stranger.

 

I�m sorry that

I want more

Than this and

To continue living

My life.