When I'm tempted to despair
When I think all hope is gone
I type in 'Bridget Riley Maidenhead
And think "Hell, yeah, let's move on!"
Note: for the average lad, 'Bridget Riley's Maidenhead' can be hard to take
Note 2: this no longer works unless you add 'Serenity'. Go figure.
If can keep your head while all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
Is it possible that you need further training
In the safe use of the office guillotine?
If you can keep your head while all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you -
Hell, take that guillotine and when kids flout you
As we all know some are inclined to do -
Cut off their heads - you know they'll hardly miss them
Not having used them much since they were small
Except to hunt down folks like you and diss them
Cut them down then, diving, take that fall
That always gets the referee's attention
While others on their team are playing foul
Which winds some players up to useful tension
So that they lose their rag, throw in the towel
And go and catch a ball from cleaner players
In games where thieving scumbags are not proud
Where skill still matters - skills in many layers
Not money, fame, good lawyers and bad crowds
*Note: if you're feeling justified, you're about to do something bad. No one justifies the good stuff.
'If' regularly makes it into the 'best of ' list yet Kipling thought it played into the hands of the 'Win! Win!' brigade and contributed to the death in battle of almost a whole generation of boys including his own son.
I
This is set in the Buffyverse to the tune of Giles' song in Once More With Feeling
I wasn't ready to let you go
Tried to keep you but now I know
The gift you gave me it's time to let it grow
And I...
I felt so empty all I had was need
I broke you open so I could feed
And then I turned from you
I wouldn't see you bleed
And I...
I wish I had done the right thing
When you tried to make me see
Wish I had earned your love back
Before you came to me
Wish I could say I loved you all the way
The way that you loved me
Goodnight sweet princess now I must try
To let you go - to let you fly
To be my guiding light not just my alibi
And I...
I hope I can find the right words to honour you at last
Hope I can seek forgiveness with every spell I cast
Now I can see
My angel now I see
It's time to set you free
It's time to set you free
Teeming and Lading sounds so banal that no one can even remember it
But the effects of the fraud are quite final - it'll take your organisation and dismember it
It's usually not a deliberate fraud - looks innocent like most lobster cages
Life is hard and - 'Hey, I'm a genius I am! We'll pay this tax bill from next month's wages!'
If it becomes habitual,
Here's what you will find
However much you may try to catch up,
You'll fall further and further behind
There are three ways to try Teeming and Lading
You can do it with stock, time or money
If it's stock or money it's simple -
You get caught, you're off to Barlinnie
Here's what you should know
Whichever one you choose
There's no way you can win now
You've decided to lose
Our gap was some years and counting
Which made me lose sleep at nights
And it got me and my manager
Into some hideous, horrible fights
He said it was business as usual
He called it a manageable load
It wasn't him looking through seven lever arch files
For one retrieval request for one client code
You can't slowly phase out Teeming and Lading -
Show it the door, hand it its coat
But if you leave the door open by even a crack
It's back, with its tongue down your throat
My husband said 'Tupping and Ladling'
And at the risk of you thinking me crude
If that was its name, that would neatly explain
Why I'm feeling quite so misconstrued.
There's something I'd like to get off my chest
For 26 years I've been feeling oppressed
"There's just no demand for that size dear
"(though you're the third one who's asked today)
"Go up a strap size - come down a cup size
"That's really all I can say."
26 years I've been hearing that
Thinking "Something here's not right:
"I want to give them my money -
"They want to give me a fight!"
So I'm walking down Bearwood High Street
On a Tuesday (that's important) on the way to the shops
When something catches the corner of my eye
So I stop.
It's a newspaper article about Amrit, the award-winning bra doctor
Seeing hundreds of women in ill-fitting bras really shocked her
Her mission and vision are simple -
You want to but the right size? You can -
You want double A? She's your lady;
You want triple J? She's your man
As it were.
I've read it three times now: I'm loitering
I'm feeling a bit of a twit.
I march up to the counter and say
"Yes - I'd like a fit!"
As it were.
She said, "You just wait right there, dear"
Well, the queue was out the door.
But I wasn't going anywhere
Some things are worth waiting for.
Straight away I felt in safe hands -
That Goldilocks moment - just right
Daddy Bear's in for some fun tonight!
So now I am a walking advertisement, me -
And if you're curious, 32 double D
If you're feeling a little down-hearted
If your self esteem's in bits
If you know you could use a bit of a lift
I've one thing to tell you and it's
Put your cheque book in your pocket
Take yourself off to Amrit's
If you're longing to feel liberated
burn your bra
And then buy one that fits!
When I am old, I will puke purple
19 rum and blacks and Bob's your drunken uncle
I will have surgery on my tongue to subdue the bickering young
With its forked flickering
My children will divorce me, sue their mother
For custody of each other
And I will stand on street corners
Saying: you should stay away from convents
You would never make a monk
Just, if you're drunk do not get pregnant
If you're pregnant don't get drunk
Then I will go and be a cockleshell hero, noble
In some new Dunkirk or Chernobyl
Violet Szabo in wrinkles she earned but never wore
When I am old, let me puke purple
And now the end is near and One must face One's last red carpet
Subjects One will make it clear then One will pause for tea and crumpets
To think One did all that and may One say not in a fun way
Oh no, oh no not One - One did it One's way
Regrets, One has a few and what they are One need not mention
Flick through any tabloid - discard the half that's pure invention
To think One would do such things? Well may One say and say quite plainly
Such things just weren't done in One's day
For what is One - what has One got?
A handbag - a palace - you know, One used to have a yacht
To say apt words to those who kneel
Then stand for hours in stiff court heels
To say 'is not' and never 'ain't'
To think the world smells of fresh paint
To have Americans call One quaint
One has done it One's way
The Lord of the Rings - that's fantasy, right?
And fantasy, that's just wish fulfilment
Furry wee hobbits - magic by elflight
Very nice, but really not relevant
Well, it's the truth, isn't it?
But see me, I read all that nonsense -
Tolkien, MacAvoy, Elgin
McCaffrey, McKinley, McKillip
Pearce, Hughart, LeGuin
Beagle, Shaw, Pratchett
Some things are hard to encompass
If it's not us or them, black or white
How do we talk about goodness
Or put over the thrill of the fight?
Thrill is the right word, isn't it?
I think Tolkien had a fair go
War is Hell, Hell is war
Two, three, what are we fighting for?
Turn the corner you're into Mordor
In its full-on Oh-my-God-ness
I have read the other stuff too, you know -
Ken Lay, Enron's the shape of the future
Under New Labour our future is bright
Tony Blair's going to put all to right
Czechoslovakia's a country in Europe
Edison invented the lightbulb
Nikola Tesla, who he?
Louis Howard Latimer, ah!
America still is the land of the free
And the stock market's going to enrich you and me...
So: trust Uncle Tolkien - believe Mr Pratchett
Put your faith in the wench with the axe -
People we really should face it:
Fantasy weathers much better than facts
Sara sings for her supper - "um, Um, UMM!"
And dances for her dinner, moshing like a mad thing
Hands flat on the highchair, poised and keenly waiting
To pounce on passing spoonfuls of potato, pear or plum
Sara, like the crocodile, has quite the friendly grin
Chuckles in her tummy, a dimple in her chin
Our little Sara can be quite the fetching thing
So don't put the dish down or she'll
dive
right
in
Megan reads rhymes to her little sister
Though for three weeks yet her little sister
Is one big curve and a wandering foot
So, on the bus, up with my shirt, not rude
Just direct as her old search for food
And the horn on the bus says "Toot, toot, toot!"
All day long
She knows the need for quiet in Meeting
"Shh," she says, "Shh!" round all the seating
Friends young and old nod, solemn, unslighted
And then as she passes they grin, delighted
Diverse thoughts briefly united
A Mexican wave of mirth ignited
All day long
Megan leads - and can I follow?
Desperately weary - feeling hollow
Looking for strength that I can borrow
All day long
For my second daughter.
A
Beloved child to you I'll tell
The few things that I know right well
That on bleak mornings still the sun will rise
That beauty can be found through others' eyes
I'll tell to you my dearest truth of all
That if you wish to stand alone
By that wish you have begun to fall
For life is one long sweet embrace
In which trees poets stars and stones
All find a place
And last of all I wish you free
To think in different ways from me
I think you can tell I wrote this for my first child.
First thing in the morning we're your Mum and Dad
You bounce into our room and we're six kinds of glad
We'll have some adventures - we'll do all the chores
I'll show you my poems and you'll show me yours
But then I remember my feminist principles -
Still there after all these years -
'cause see, your Dad, he is doing his best
But he does a bit and then I do the rest
Then while I'm still catching my breath
I bump into some old doubts and fears -
'cause, see, I really was doing my best -
But I did a bit and then he did the rest
And that's when you tell us we're stupid:
How can one times zero be zero?
So then, do we stop and consider the math?
Or just insist: I'm your boss! He's your hero!
Shall we make time together
Then use it to fight?
And why does it matter
Who's wrong and who's right?
The post is all bills
The news is all bad
We'd like some fun now
But that's not to be had
See, first thing in the morning we're your Mum and Dad
But sometimes by bedtime we're Dumb and Mad
