Oh pundit my pundits
In my dad’s despair
Where have you been?
Last night I modelled in
The sun for my Dad’s pics
The Anne Pic Portfolio
Growing like a horse
Another pose for the ghost
Of the light fighting the death
Ah I wax gloomy these days
But ‘tis only a brief holler
I pick myself up, wrap in cosy shawls
And purge what isn’t Annesque
From my bright cheer- I will see!
Sunday a type caught my eye
Such a witty stunner- his smile
Combusted all sulks and vapours
My dad nicked on the Beeb- pin
For the latest victory on the table
I must stick the pin in the right spot for him
Where took swipe at those who
Locked us in this attic- a rat’s cage
Oh the blooming church bell across the garden street
Chimes again- to remind of the time wasted
But I am young, I want to live. Flirt, oh
How blessing is the mixed tumble of feelings
Down my tum, my heart tingling, my face ablaze
With flushes beaming at the cheery face of Peter
He might be shy but he’s here – they only boy
And I understand him like he understands me
We need each other in this rat’s casemate
While the Van de Pels discipline me
And the dentist ticks me off for being
Ungirly- where did he get his fuddy-duddy
Ideas from, this cranky old codger?
Maybe ‘cos he’s been drilling the teeth too much
Such as he must have a wont for paining live beings!
Like any doctor he pontificates on what’s good,
Sound and sane!
Oh terrible are humans on their outside- nag each other,
Miff each other
Do not let each others live, but squeeze each others
Into their own moulds
Why why why but hey I still- always believe that men
Have good hearts- but they only need to realise
Their potential- it depends on themselves, for
Parents can only give help and advice- so
Go out boisterous into the world, form yourself
And the world with you
‘Tis an adventure dealing with fussy bossy people
crowded in a rat box- a dungeon moreover-
how gothic, how romantic- ‘tis will
look good in my bestseller – oh I know
I’ll be famous- I am not like every other girl
Because I live in this attic – oh how tinkling
It is to be quarrelling all the time,
Still I believe they are good at heart
This I will prove to them even though
They will faint in disbelief- they will go:
“ Oh this crazed unruly teenager,
someone teach her manners, with
a little push she’ll grow up sooner
than she thinks. She is just a wee
confuzzled, messed up puppy.
We adults know the world and will
Show to her how it works”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem