The MarBull. A Poem

After school, in the yard playing marbles one day

When a great hue and cry disrupted our play,

When we arose to see what had caused such disarray,

One of the bigger boys shouted 

“Run, the Bull get away!”.

Now earlier in class we had learned of stampedes

But seeing it live was something else indeed, 

A whole host of pickneys running like steeds

With a Black Bull behind them fast as windspeed.

Before we could pick up our marbles and run

The host was upon us like bullets from a gun.

Their infectious panic splayed us as the Sun

To the point where none of us knew where to tun.

Being smarter than most I climbed up a tree 

But when thirty more followed who were smart as me

The tree limbs started buckling

As would wounded knees

And when they popped  “POW!”

We bawled “Mercy, Lord please!”

I fell from the tree with a terrified heart

Then adrenaline chipped in for a  running kickstart

As my feet hit the ground my brain made the chart

Of the route that would be 

my escape from wrath.

But the Bull too was achased by a group of armed men 

And a slight turnaround made him the chaser again.

It truly was a sight, a comedic event,

The chaser became chasee

Thru schoolyard, end to end.

With all of this running,

The Bull, out of steam

Was cornered and roped

Using various means,

But when dragged to the road

Its strength was redeemed

By the storm that he kicked up,

His legend esteemed.

But all the men gathered

Were fit for the battle

And would not be outdone

No Sir, not by cattle.

So as much as he stomped

And snorted and grappled

The Bull could not break 

Or shake from his shackle.

Still, the men wary of the strength of the bull,

Knew the trip to the slaughterhouse could be eventful.

So he was dragged to a tree

Despite his push & pull

To be shorn like a sheep

And removed of his wool.

Now the tree that they chose

Was in front of my house,

Beside the Boys’ School, next to the Cub Scouts;

As the children gathered round with laughters and shouts

The Butcher arrived primed

 To show off his clout.

“Get your ass in this yard!”

My Granny called out

As people arrived from all wheres about,

I did as she ordered and went without pout

Cause her bite was much harder

 than the barks from her mouth.

So the Butcher lined up to sever the head

Of the Black raging beast from whom all had fled,

The machete swung up, then down, 

First shiny, then red

The Bull stood there calmly

Even as he bled.

Then without warning

The beast, minus his noggin

Tempested a new storm

On all who stood bragging,

Its headless body implanted a flogging

On all that were close and all who were lagging.

The confines of my yard

To all now seemed safe

So they took to the fences

Though skin it did chafe

Some were too slow for the chaotic chase

So the Bull helped them over, albeit posthaste.

Now if all at my residence on that day had paid

All of my life’s suffering would have been waylaid

Packed to the rafters covering every grass blade

Some tattered, some torn

Some in need of first aid.

Bruised as they were, inside they all stayed

Til the Bull lost his footing in the war he had made.

Twas then they all ventured to ask how he had strayed

How had he gotten so far to perform this charade.

As the Butcher carved up this once magnificent beast,

The crowd dispersed steadily, glad for the peace.

And though some there planned to make him their feast

I just stood in awe

With knowledge increased.

And while some children laughed,

And some children cried,

Most  adults breathed sighs,

Because no one had died.

A day all who lived it

Would recall with  great pride

For the deeds that they’d done

Just to survive.


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