A.B.R. (Anti Bullying Rap.)

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(This  was written way back around 2003 / 2004 for the daughter of my boss at the time. It has been hidden amongst a pile of other unpublished nonsense at the back of my wardrobe ever since. Maybe it was for the best …..) 😀

A.B.R. (Anti Bullying Rap.)

I’m twelve years old and not so bold,

But not too blind to see;

I ain’t no mug – YOU’RE the thug,

But you’ll never bully me.

So:

You think you’re tough? Well, I’ve had enough.

What d’you hope to gain?

Look into my eyes, you’ll soon realise

You can’t cause any more pain.

Coz:

The one thing I seek, is the courage to speak –

To stand up for my rights.

You’re so wrong, and I’m so strong –

There will be no more fights.

Peace.

Foxes and Hares.

This is another thirty-year old effort that resurfaced when tidying my office.

(I’m sure I also caught a glimpse of Lord Lucan, but he legged it before I could ask him for ID.)

The poem was intended to draw a parallel between the blood-sports here in UK and the apartheid rule of South Africa at that time. Both issues have been addressed since, thankfully, and so the work is perhaps a bit dated. (I prefer to think of it as a ‘historical’ piece, now.) 😉
That said, I guess it’s still relevant in principal to any repressed people across the world.

(Image by Jackie Morris.)

FOXES & HARES

As the setting sun sank slowly at dusk,
Casting long, warm shadows that engulfed the dust,
The Hunters would return from the vast grassy plain,
Tired but happy their sacks filled with game.
Soon food-flavoured smoke would linger till light,
And the African Herdsman would sleep well that night.

Life then was so simple, free from worries and cares
For they were born to be free, like the foxes and hares.

The years flickered by and Time brought with it, Change.
And Time brought the White-Man, alien, strange.
And the White-Man was ‘civilised’ and so started a reign
Of torture and killings and anguish and pain.
And families were driven from homes lovingly made,
And The Herdsman was herded to start the slave trade.

They were used to being free in that Land that was theirs,
But now they were hounded, like the foxes and hares.

Where The Herdsman once lived off the fat of the land,
The White-Man now lives – The Herdsman’s been banned.
Banished to townships, ramshackle and crude,
Condemned to exist like no White Man ever could.
Found guilty of living, he’s been sentenced to die;
But though his body is broken, his spirits are high.

The Herdsman’s been captured in White-Man’s evil snares,
But he’s screaming and fighting, like those foxes and hares.

Chased and tormented by White-Man’s power lust,
Those Foxes and Hares are running, lungs fit to burst.
And the red-coated Huntsman sits high on his mount,
As his blood-thirsty hounds rip their victim’s heart out,
And while its terror-filled screams are heard here in UK,
“We’ll sort it, tomorrow,”  is all the politicians say.

And the public is outraged, but does anyone really care
About what exactly is happening to those Foxes and Hares?
_______________

Slim Chance.

The things you find when clearing out your office!

(This was written many, many years ago for my wife’s Slimming Club, when she was expecting our second son. It’s a humorous but hopefully inspirational tale produced principally for women seeking to lose weight.)

Bloke readers also welcome, of course.

SLIM CHANCE.

‘Fat can be beautiful,’ or so I was told
As I undid my corsets and watched the ripples unfold.
But given the choice, I’d rather be lean,
An hour-glass figure was my ultimate dream.

But dreams turn to nightmares as we all know,
And this weight-losing business can really be slow.
So I bought some diet-biscuits to help me get slim,
They said on TV that they’re just the thing.

But after a month, I’d gained three more pounds!
I turned the air blue with cursing sounds;
I didn’t understand – how could it be
That such a dreadful thing be happening to me?

As the days dragged on, I grew more annoyed,
My life became empty- a proverbial void.
ANOTHER FOUR POUND INCREASE? This could not be real,
I’d eaten those biscuits after EVERY meal.

Ah. So that’s what went wrong. I’d now seen the light.
I gave up all stodge and continued the fight.
I resolved to try real hard, no cheating, then who knows,
This time next week, I could re-sight my toes.

But it didn’t work out, my toes stayed in the shade,
And I pondered exactly what mistakes I had made.
Matters got worse and sometimes I was ill,
Then it dawned what had happened – I’d forgotten my Pill!

I WAS PREGNANT!

I really was ‘in the club’ – and not a slimming one,
But it guaranteed a weight-loss second to none.
No exercise programme; no diet sheets needed
And seven months later my tummy receded.

Now eating for two is a hard habit to break,
But I tried to cut down for the housekeeping’s sake.
But like all ‘best-laid plans of mice and men’
It wasn’t too long till I was fat again.

Come bath-times, I looked like a beached baby whale
And all magazine diets were doomed to fail.
Obviously now, something HAD to be done,
Drastic measures to be taken – but which way to turn?

THEN A FRIEND SAID:

“Go try a slimming club, they’ll help you cope,”
So I wobbled on down, my heart filled with new hope.
“Please help me lose weight, I beseech. No, I BEG”
“No problem,” they laughed, “We’ll cut off a leg.”

All joking over, my statistics were taken,
The truth was out, there could be no faking.
“Cut out the chocolate and alcoholic drink,
And it won’t be too long till your tum starts to shrink.”

They suggested I take a more positive view
And in a few weeks there’d be compliments due.
But if friends start to laugh, think “Nuts to them all,
I’m not overweight, I’m just under tall.”

My stomach was rumbling – a real weird sensation,
But I would not give in to this evil temptation.
They advised me at meal-times don’t over indulge
And I’d soon have victory in this Battle of the Bulge.

And slowly but surely I began to lose weight,
First a pound, then five, and eventually eight.
It gradually got easier by doing as they taught
And not being discouraged by negative thought.

And within six weeks I’d shed a whole stone
And all carbohydrates were banned from my home.
My clothes no longer fitted, but it was small price to pay –
I liked the new me, and I was here to stay.

__________

MOVING EMOTIONS

Please excuse the amateurish style – this was written over thirty years ago. 

I had completely forgotten about it until my sister recently moved house.

House

MOVING EMOTIONS

It’s quiet for once, that room

Where the children used to play.

Not vibrant, noisy and happy –

We’re moving house today.

The old open-hearth fire

By which the cat would often lay,

Is to be replaced by central heating –

We’re moving house today.

 

The spare room now so peaceful

Where drunken friends would stay:

No longer filled with hungover groans –

We’re moving house today.

Kitchen windows I can now see out,

Not like on washing day.

No longer misted and clouded over –

We’re moving house today.

 

And that pretty garden corner,

Where flowers bathe in warm sun rays,

Will soon be tarmaced over –

We’re moving house today.

Rooms warm, inviting and cosy,

I’ll remember them that way,

Not as now – stark, cold and empty.

We’re moving house today.

_____________