Robbing the Hood

I’m looking for Robin Hood,

Have you seen him?

Coz we could really do with his story

We’re being suppressed, shushed and crushed again by those bloody Tories

Cause they’ve fucked up again

Fucked us over again

Acted like we could be friends

But they lied to us

Stabbed us in the back

And friends... they just don’t do that.

So I’m looking for Robin Hood

Have you seen him?

The class war,

Is getting on its armoury

And it took so long to get a society even close to living in harmony,

But the rich are going to get rich

Whilst the poor get poorer,

It has been spoken

That the right for education has been broken,

It’s only for the privileged didn’t you know

Because of course let’s not educate those below,

That way we can do as we please,

With no one to argue their case coz they don’t have a degree.

So I’m looking for Robin Hood.

Have you seen him?

It looks like it’s down to us again

To pritt stick this country back together

Make do and mend.

Because all the king’s horses and all the king’s men

Can’t put this mess under the carpet again,

So looks like we’re going to have to have a voice

And talk over their cowardice noise

Not down with a wolf in sheep’s clothing,

Let’s show them,

And like Red Riding Hood lets have the guts,

To not lay ourselves down to these cuts.

We’ve gotta get our hoods on

Turn our swag on – I think is the phrase used by the young.

And with our

Hoods up

We’ll Stand up

For what we believe

That we should all be treated equally

Because this world is not a eton boy’s playground

Nowhere else in Europe this promotion for the rich is found,

Sat in their second homes

About us they moan

And they laugh and they scoff

But what makes you so much better if you’re a toff?

They don’t seem to understand you don’t need a title

To be entitled

And with each parliament, the injustice is heightened

Coz they’re robbing the hood

So I’m looking for Robin Hood

So please, if you see him,

Tell him, we’re really really going to need him.

The Berry's Revenge

The Robin hopped from foot to foot.

Oooooooooh, he just really, really REALLY wanted some ribena. Hot ribena preferably, but any would do right now.

The problem was he’d given up his addiction for lent.

He looked down at his red plumage and threw out his wings in horror. He was sure his feathers were losing their colour.

Right that’s it, he decided. Either he’d have to give in or he’d lose his right to be a robin. Who’d ever heard of a robin without a red chest?

He hopped erratically closer to the berry bush he’d been perched in front of for the last two days. He shuffled briefly from foot to foot and in a flurry of pent up tension, thrust himself up into the thorny branches. He found the fattest, juiciest berry and took it in his pointed beak. Tossing his little head from side to side he attempted to pluck the berry from its branch.

The berry wasn’t so down with this. So put up a fight for as long as possible. The other soundless berries could only watch in horror as their bestie was stolen away, they struggled in the breeze to reach him, but there was nothing they could do, so were left to watch helplessly as the blood of their brother spilled through his cheeks and the robin was finally granted his wish. They scorned him as he flew away into the late afternoon sky.

The Robin felt triumphant, soaring through the clouds with his treasured prize, the juices already trickling across his tongue down to his aching stomach.

The Berry felt smug. For he was a poison Berry.

The Rather Messy Breakup

The Rather Messy Breakup

“Let’s just be friends.”
She carefully placed her tea cup back on its saucer. Fanned out her fingers and told herself that her hands weren’t shaking. He looked from her face to her hands to her face again. They were shaking.
“Excuse me?”
“I think it’s best if we are just friends.”
She stared out of the window for some time. He grew a little worried for her sanity, but was in no position to judge or to push her so he kept quiet and kept his thoughts to himself. She watched a girl dance through the street, grabbing the hand of a boy who was chasing after her as she did so, pulled him towards her and kissed him hard and decisively on the lips before dashing off once more. Lucky bitch.
“I don’t agree.”
“You don’t agree?”
“No.”
“Ok.”
Well, that was the oddest response he had got to this usually very successful line.
“Can I ask why?”
“No. Not really.”
“Right...”
Well, this was very awkward.
“You’re really going to have to give me something here.”
“Can I ask you why you think we should just be friends?”
“I... just don’t think we would work.”
“Fine. Well then you can understand why I don’t think us not being together and just being friends will work.”
“Umm, no, actually I don’t understand.”
He wished he had ordered a pint now. He had not had the forethought for this conclusion. He thought it would have been a clean break, barely worth ordering a coffee over. A quick –Hey how’s it going, so I’m just going to, yep there you go, break your heart, here have it back- and Bob’s your Uncle done!
“Let me tell you what I don’t understand then maybe we’ll come to some form of understanding together.”
She laid her hands flat on the table. That was better. She felt more in control.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me. It’s just all a bit silly isn’t it, because I can tell you now what everyone is going to say when I go home in tears and down a bottle of vodka: You’re too good for him, he doesn’t know what he’s missing, he can’t see how great you are, you don’t need him, you’re better off without him, he’ll see how great you are and will come running back and then you can reject him, he’s intimidated by how great you are, you’re too beautiful for him... do I need to go on, or do you get the picture?”
He got the picture, but wasn’t quite sure what to say to any of this. Most girls went home and did their crying and questioning behind closed doors. Out of sight. Out of mind. And that was a routine that had served him perfectly fine. He was ok with it. Don’t fix what ain’t broke and all that. Did she not get that?
“But we won’t work together.”
“Why?”
“Because my heart’s not in it.”
“And my heart’s not in us not being together.”
She leant back away from the table and took a leisurely sip of her cup of tea. Yes, this was a lot better, a proper solution finding conversation. None of this statement-bish-bash-bosh-we’re over and done business.
“But you can’t force two people to be together.”
“Then why can you force two people to be apart?”
She had him there. And she knew it.
“Why should you get your way? Why can’t we do it my way?”
“Because it doesn’t work like that.”
“Who says?”
His hands messed up his perfectly crafted hair that he had prepared earlier. If he was going to dump her, he had wanted to look good whilst doing so, it was that extra twist of the knife that those doing the stabbing did, though God knows why. It’s not very kind. Anyway, he wasn’t looking his best anymore. His carefully composed look was looking worn and distraught, his shirt frantically untucking itself from his distressed jeans (not that his jeans shared this emotion, they had just been stressed when dyed), his cheeks flushed and his hair was not looking quite so artistically messy.
“I don’t see how you can only see that we have to do it your way. We do it your way and I’m unhappy but you’re happy. We do it my way and I’m happy but you’re unhappy. It’s an equal balance either way, so each conclusion should be on the cards.”
“But you can’t force me to like you.”
“You can’t force me to not like you.”
“But... but you can’t force me to stay with you.”
“And you can’t force me to leave you. You see where I’m going with this yet?”
He saw where she was going with this.
But what was worse, was that he saw (in some weird, and roundabout way) that what she was saying actually made some form of sense. He desperately didn’t want it to. But it did. Damn.
“Now, let’s say that we’ll date for this first month, then not the second, then will the third... and so on and so forth. I really think we ought to start off as dating seeing as this was my idea, I should get some form of credit for it! And we’ll stop when either you fall for me, or I fall out of love with you. This way we’re equally happy and equally in pain.
Right, pick me up tonight at half seven, and make sure you’re on time, you know how particular I am, and remember to change your online relationship status when you get home. I love you boyfriend.”
She kissed him firmly on the lips. He could not reciprocate, too stunned by what he had got himself into. She cleared her throat and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for an appropriate response.
“I... err, love you too... girlfriend.”

The Tree of Knowledge

How do the owls know so much?
Well, I’ll tell you.
The owls, they sit in the trees and as they do the trees whisper through their leaves the secrets of the world. And the owls spin their heads and hoot “woah!” And then they fluff up their feathers, that are now so full of knowledge, puff out their chests and fly off out into the night, hooting out everything that they’ve found out to be right.

And the trees, they sigh in the breeze, yet another flighty friend has taken off again, they harden their bark, they will not cry over this again. But their leaves descend in showers, everyone can see them track their way down to the ground, but no one says anything. No words of console for those weeping willows. The people and animals rush by in their busy lives, ignoring the pain in that arc that shelters them from the rain.

But the trees, they remind themselves that it’s ok. One day those below will all be gone and they’ll be the last ones standing at the end of the day.