Creative Writing Course

Back at the end of September, I started on a creative writing course. Being jobless and sad, they took pity on me and let me go for free, so I guess it's not a glowing commendation to say it's worth every penny. Still, I'm really enjoying it, and trying out writing I would never have tried before.

Now, I know I didn't post last month. That was kind of on purpose, thinking I'd do better to concentrate on my homework. But since my homework isn't turning out like I thought it would - i.e. the incoherent ramblings of a gibbering idiot - and since I've had a few good comments from my fellow classmates, I guess it's good enough to put up here. So, from last week's class, here is a free verse poem on the theme of 'Identity'.

Little Boxes

I am a construct.

Your construct.

Little square boxes, layer on layer, built into a person and sent into the world.

Sex: female. Check

Eyes: brown. Check.

Hair: brown. Check.

Little boxes with little crosses,

Categorising, simplifying.

I am a collection of facts.

Your facts.

Atheist, right-handed, short-sighted.

A daughter, a sister, a cousin.

Little boxes put me in my place,

Fit me into the world.

Make me obvious.

I am a person.

My person.

Mother's fingers, father's thumbs.

Height... well, thank modern medicine for the height.

But no little box labelled 'should be taller',

Or 'depends on the time'.

Never a box for 'only on Tuesdays, or 'still undecided'.

Never the nuance,

The 'ifs', 'ands', and 'buts'.

I am 3D,

In a 2D world.

Flatland risen from the pages.

The little boxes with their width and height,

Can't comprehend my depth.

But they try, with the simplicity of their questions.

They take me apart, and build me up again.

A construct of facts.

Eyes: brown.

Check.