By Maria TB Mendoza <Gedri@Hotmail.com>

Rated G

Submitted January 2001 Summary: This collection of poems looks at Lois and Clark's lives from several different perspectives.

*** A poem: Lois is pleasantly surprised.

Daily Planet Picnic

I don't want to be here; No one else does either. They don't like me. They know me And none of them really like me.

Everyone is uneasy around me; They're nervous. I am a 'Mad Dog.' No one is comfortable; They think I can't be kind.

He hands me another soda And asks what I think. He never acts uneasy. At my worst, He still smiles tolerantly.

Perry comes over, The only other man Who I never scared. He tells us to have fun And then wanders aimlessly off.

My partner says 'yes, sir,' And pulls me towards a table. 'Orders,' he says with a grin; A plate of chocolate before me, I glare at him but gratefully eat.

Jimmy calls as he runs by, We nod, our mouths are full, And he grins before disappearing. He isn't scared of me any more, Clark has made him braver.

I follow my partner around. When I stop and try to leave He slips his hand around my arm And, with an oddly strong grip, Steers me back to the fun.

The day wasn't too bad; Clark somehow made it bearable. Guess there are worse ways To spend a day Than attending a friendly picnic.


A poem: Can people see that there is more to Clark?

Do They Realise

I look around and wonder if any realise That they are with a hero every day. The hero may speak differently, And dress differently, for sure, But they are still with a hero every day.

He does not reveal it, That he is hero, But there are some things that he cannot hide. The way he cares for others, Or the smile that he wears, They are the too strong things he cannot hide.


A poem: How the world looks depends on where you are. A poem.


The world looked beautiful When viewed from up in the air. Trees and buildings looked minuscule When viewed from up in the air. Things seemed so much nicer When viewed from up in the air. That must be why I love flying Way up high in the air.

The world looks so beautiful Whenever I am with you. Everything seems better Whenever I am with you. Troubles seems so much smaller Whenever I am with you. I feel like I am flying Whenever I am with you.


A Poem: A temporary hero's recollections.

Once A Super Hero

I was once a super hero. I could fly, Shoot lasers from my eyes, Blow a lake to ice, And move faster than a bullet.

I was once a super hero. I stilled storms, I saved lives, I stopped disasters, And I helped around the world.

I was once a super hero. People sent flowers, Papers printed pictures, Speculations ran wild, And I tried to act the same.

I was once a super hero. Criminals feared me, Reporters swarmed me, Crimes distracted me, And psychos tried to kill me.

I was once a super hero. It was wonderful, It was scary, It was exhilarating, It was a lot harder than it looked.

I was once a super hero. I am now a reporter, I am now like everyone else, I am now simply me, And UltraWoman is enjoying her rest.


A poem: Sometimes Clark's hardest battles aren't against an enemy.

The Battle

Did you see my smile? Better wipe it away quick. I school my features, But my grin creeps back. I take a deep slow breath But feel my cheeks fighting to rise.

I try and control myself; I should be able to do this. I have done far harder things. Why does this seem beyond me? I really must do this, Now it's a personal challenge.

I hold my face impassive; It is hard, but I concentrate on it. Five minutes is all I need; That long and I'll have proven myself. Five seconds left: Four, Three, Two,

"Clark! Are you even listening to me?" I raise my eyes to your face And the smile I've fought returns. "Every word. You don't like the new story." Well, at least I made it to five minutes.


A poem: Everyone sees Superman a little differently.


The adults are so awe struck; They don't know What to say or do around me. I am a hero But I am still a stranger.

The children are so happy. Laughing and clapping They clamour for my attention. I can do 'miracles'; They all want to do the same.

Saying good-bye, I leave before reporters arrive. They call as I fly away, But I only wave to them As the children yell 'bye'.

'Clark' interviews them. They are so happy, Superman visited them; He thought they were worthy Of getting to meet him.

Reporters slowly left, Articles being dictated And last photos taken. The kids didn't care They continued to play.

As evening came, The adults spoke alone. The papers were talking about them. More funds would surely arrive. Maybe the orphanage would survive.

As each child said his prayers, They thanked a special alien For visiting them. Thanks to him Their home wouldn't close.


feedback welcome at <Gedri@Hotmail.com>