Poetry in Motion
            by Nymph Du Pave

            Chapter Seven: The First

            "And, dude
            I did say,
            'You are my familia.
            My corrosion in the same manner'.
            I told him that
            and he clapped.
            He knew just what
            I said."

            Clark could see that Lex was trying not to laugh.  Trying really, really hard.  Chloe and Lex.  Clark knew one of them, if not both, was going to crack before the end of the poem.  He made and internal bet that it was going to be Chloe.

            "'I don't want yourself
            your approval doth unimportant
            France is gone
            and the world can burn
            you're dead in my life
            don't call my cell phone'"

            Lex, despite his many years of classical teachings in Literature and Poetry and therefore a huge amount of exposure to good and great poetry, could control his behavior better than Chloe.  He was more reserved, more 'let me melt into the background' than Chloe.  Chloe was 'let me be seen as well as heard, but especially heard'.

            "I told him this
            and he clapped.
            He said he knew
            just what I meant."

            She was definitely going to crack first.

            "But he can't
            live my life
            I don’t want him there.
            Don’t need that strife."

            And that was it.  The typical life/strife rhyme was enough to have her shield her face from the stage and cover her outbreak of laughter with a mouthful of croissant.  Lex was not so lucky.

            "Let me tell him this,"

            At Chloe's laughter, he let out a loud cough and ducked under the table, unable to keep from chortling.

            "-and see him clap."

            The poet stepped back from the mike and the whole football team stood up from their table, clapping and hurrahing for their bright-eyed comrade.

            "You'd think he just delivered a 'Farewell to Arms'," whispered Lex as Paul Killborne walked off the stage to be pulled victoriously into his group.  Lex and Chloe had managed to gather their mirth and move past it faster than Clark would have given them credit for.

            "Apparently all football players have a pretty tough home-life dealt to them."

            Lex tisked.  "What an awful strife."

            They snickered for a moment until Lana walked back up onto the stage.  Clark watched as a shared distaste rang out in their eyes.  He would never understand just what it was they disliked about Lana.

            "Thank you, Paul, for your contribution to tonight’s Original Poetry Segment."

            "She'll no doubt be smacking Whitney for talking Paul into attending," whispered Chloe over the applause.  Lex looked too shocked to respond.

            “What is it, Lex?” Clark asked.

            The boy’s eyes focused on his.  “Segment.  Tonight’s Original Poetry- Segment?”

            “Yes.”

            “You mean there’s another segment?  As in not the Original Poetry Segment?”

            Clark swallowed and flushed with guilt.  He’d never really thought that Lex would want to read someone else’s words in front of a crowd.  “Uh, yeah, Lex.  The other segment is for classic and favorite poems, but I sort of didn’t sign us up for that.”

            Lex sat back in his chair.  “So I see.”

            Is he mad at me? Clark wondered.  He didn't look mad, just...  Amused.

            The applause died down and Lana looked at her list.  "Next we have,” she grinned.  “Peter Ross."

            Applause abounded and once again Clark was surprised by Pete's under-spoken popularity.  He'd always miscalculated the number of people- particularly girls- that had fallen for Pete's unmistakable, easy-going charisma.
 
            Pete stood up, adjusting himself vainly for the crowd, holding his hands up and bowing.  "Thank you, thank you, everyone.  Really- oh, well.  Okay.  More applause!"  Most of the group laughed and Pete made his way up the steps.

            Lana climbed down from the stage and took Pete’s seat.  She looked at the three of them.  “I’ve never had such a crowd here.  I wonder what drew them in.”
 
            “Jocks on parade?” Lex joked.

            Chloe shook her head.  "More like the Billionaire Man-March."

            Lex and Clark took a second to look at the group.  Clark was surprised to see not only many adults and farmers in the crowd, but many of them looking at Lex.  Most had the decency to turn when Lex looked back at them.

            "I'll be damned," whispered Lex in shock and not a little dismay.

            "You're center-stage no matter where you go."  Chloe grinned.  "Center stage no matter who you're with."

            Clark kicked her discreetly under the table, knowing she was hinting at Clark's affection towards him and got a strange look from Lex.  "Chloe, don't be rude," he tried to cover, but Lex's look only grew more puzzled and he looked to Chloe.  Luckily, Chloe had decided she liked having Clark's friendship and happened to be looking up to Pete expectantly.

            "Okay, okay," laughed Pete.  "Here goes."

            Clark felt horrendous.

            "Now I don't write a lot of poetry, so, sorry girls, this isn't Shakespeare."

            Not only had he dragged Lex into this, but somehow word had gotten around their little hamlet that Lex was performing.  The people parked and ready probably knew original works were at hand and Clark had no doubt that there were a few journalists in the crowd.  Now Lex couldn't back out without looking like a complete ass.  Clark just hoped that he hadn't written anything too personal.

            "But I feel that's it's my own little presentation of the 'Deeper Side of Peter Ross'."  Clark barely heard the catcalls and whistles and humorous shouts about getting on with it.  He was too busy wondering just how one would go about faking a stroke.  "Yeah, yeah.  Fine."

            He had to do so without worrying his friends or having anyone call 911, not to mention he had to get Lex and only Lex to 'take him to the hospital'.  That was the only way to escape, he was sure.

            "Here goes."

            Clark looked up to Pete and lost the idea of helping Lex out.  He would just try and find a way to apologize a million times.  Maybe he could learn magic and give Lex his hair back.

            "Ahem:

            Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury,
            I hope you're in no freakin' hurry.
            There's much to decide,
            And it all comes to ride,
            on the judgement you pass in this flurry."

            Clark laughed; he really couldn't help it.  He hadn't expected Pete's poem to be in that specific form.  It had such a strong beat and it really fit his friend.

            "Now there's a fair maiden I wish to seek.
            Sun is her hair and her smile all week.
            There's much to say here,
            When she's oh, so damn near,
            but her presence makes me timid and meek."

            Pete grinned at Clark and Chloe as the teens in the crowd shouted in disbelief at his words.  It was clear that no one here could picture Pete as anything but his usual overconfident self.

            "Now doth I tell you this painful story?
            Obscure in life, feeling so gory
            Pass your helpful votes,
            Then we'll see if my notes,
            make it near such discernable glory."

            Clark thought to himself while Pete's congregation made it's case.  The vote was clearly a 'yes' anyway.

            There were so many blonde girls he and Pete knew, but the only one that made either of them timid or meek was the only one that could put them in their places.  The only one with a smile like sunshine…

            Clark looked up at Pete with shock on his face.  No…

            Even Lana didn't have a smile as brilliant or fun as Chloe's.

            Pete looked down in time to catch Clark's look of understanding and suddenly grew somber.  The crowd seemed to catch the mood and quieted quickly.

            "This young lady's nothing if not brilliant,
            And no this ain't me, the sycophant.
            I'll just tell the facts,
            play it up to the max,
            Fallen player, no longer management."

            Clark looked to Chloe.  She looked like she was trying figure out the poem, but he could tell that it wasn't hitting home.  He looked to his right.  Lex knew.  He was watching Chloe carefully.

            "My friends, I think I'm in love with her, too."

            The crowd gave up a collective 'awwww'.

            "This might be the only chance that you
            while in my lit fame
            have to see me proclaim
            my heart's love and probably it's adieu."

            The crowd erupted and Clark watched Chloe smile, most likely mystified that Pete was getting such a reaction.  The boy took a deep breath and he looked at Chloe, suddenly utterly serious.

            "My soul moves and breathes with a heated flow
            And you're blind for I hide this love so,
            I'll push through the mire
            and fight for your desire,
            Would you be my heart's vision, please, Chlo?"

            She gasped along with what must have been everyone in the Talon.  Clark saw how weak Pete's smile was, how it trembled almost imperceptibly.

            Please, Chloe, he begged.  Don't break his heart!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

            TO BE CONTINUED...