Malcolm Hulatt

Despair

Despair is an easy friend to meet.
When there is no choice,
No other option there to take,
You grind it out,
You grit your teeth,
And just get on with life.

But hope can be so tough.
Just when you see some light,
And think today life’s on the up,
Hope sucks you in,
Hope spits you out,
Back to that friend despair.

Malcolm Hulatt © 2002
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Hiroshima Peace Park

The Industry Promotion Hall
Still clinging on to shape and form
Despite some crumbling of the wall
As summer sun and typhoon storms
Have weathered it for six decades.
Like living memory it fades.

Yet, it stands to remind us all
Of how a brick’s compressive strength
Could leave this building standing tall
Located at the shortest length
From the nucleus of the fission,
Which razed so much with no remission.

An eerie feeling builds inside
While witnessing this monument
For locals seem to take some pride
And show no sign they may resent
The role they played in bringing peace;
The price they paid in funeral wreaths.

Today the azalea blossom peaks
While noisy children bustle round
To learn the history of that week
The blitz reduced all to the ground
By such a shock of nuclear force
That war was stopped and peace restored.

Malcolm Hulatt © 2003
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Tragedy In The Lottery Of Life

Tragedy is the booby prize
In the lottery we call life,
We hope that it will turn out nice,
We don't expect to see the knife,
That twists with every little turn,
As problems lift and then return,
And fickle fortune good will spurns
To leave behind a path of strife.

There's no need to buy a ticket,
Your name, already in the draw,
Will pop up when you least expect,
Deliver crisis to your door,
Take you to a black despair,
Make you gasp for vital air,
As you wonder if, from where,
Another roll could pile on more.

Everyone will meet some fate,
A testing trying sorry plight,
Necessitating they relate,
To amygdala: fight or flight,
Serving much to test resolve,
Presenting hurdles to dissolve,
Shaping lives as they revolve,
While remedy seems out of sight.

Such trials drag the spirit low,
But build up strong the character,
Ensuring we can henceforth show,
A new found platform that from where,
We can pause and take a breath,
As we recover from the stress,
And search for issues to redress,
While working for a true repair.

Malcolm Hulatt © 2003
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What’s good for you?

Take care of your bodily nutrition,
“You are what you eat” is oh so true,
In my diet I’m really on a mission,
I’ll help you understand what’s good for you.
Additives will damage every sinew,
Colorants will heighten all your hype,
Meat is no longer on the menu,
The vegan way does now enrich my life.
But I do allow myself a snifter,
With a bottle of the red and then the white,
And with it I roll myself a gasper,
Then meditate to help me see the light.
It helps me with my clarity of thought,
Lest all my good intentions come to nought.

Visit To My Dentist

Last year I bought a new toothbrush,
No longer needing manual push,
But driven by electric power,
Which makes the old seem so much slower,
It banishes all tooth decay,
And brushes gum disease away.

But when I see my dentist fair,
She dabs my brow and strokes my hair,
Pulls my head into her bosom,
Looks for my fillings troublesome,
Then tells me what a star I am,
For all my mouth is spick and span.

The only trouble with success,
Is that I see her less and less,
So I rarely have the pleasure,
Of lying in her chair at leisure,
While her fingers work their wonder,
As my mind begins to wander.

Then we have an interlude,
When she displays her pulchritude,
Discuss the new Kandinsky print,
To show I have a cultural tint,
But time is up I've had my fill,
I disappear to pay my bill.

Beijing

Beijing,
A city of a million bikes,
No fancy lightweight alloy frames,
But working wheels of clapped out trikes,
Pulling trailers down the lanes,
Some choc-a-bloc two metres high
With worn out chairs and windowpanes.
Is this trade on which they rely?

Beijing,
City of ten million faces,
Gone are the old communist vows,
As freedom of choice now displaces
The old serge uniform of Mao,
That the latest style replaces
With rainbow colours in a row.
Will they be lost those former traces?

Beijing,
A city of ancient culture,
Blending into the modern way,
The old Great Wall built to ensure
Those foreigners were kept at bay,
Emperors kept their heritage pure,
But then they lost it in the fray.
Now modern China has what in store?

Beijing,
A city of sharp businessmen,
Doing all things to earn a crust,
Temping as a guide and then
Studying English as needs must.
Taxi drivers wondering when
Their cars will succumb to the rust.
Can they exploit this acumen?

Beijing,
A city cosmopolitan,
With a rapidly changing style.
Foreign tourists bring in more than
Western habits considered vile,
Thus coca-cola in a can,
Nuggets available all the while.
Is this now a whole new chance?

Beijing,
A city seeming rich yet poor,
Where people live in cramped up spaces,
Trading and gambling as before,
Pungent smells invade the senses,
New flavours stun right to the core,
Soon you relax built in defences,
To be hooked and return once more.