I’ve met a few bears in the course of my days
Who carry the world in particular ways.
They lumber through forests, through troubles and snow,
Each bear sure he knows how existence should go.
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Remember Yogi, with a wink and a plan?
“I’m smarter,” he says, “than the average bear-man.”
The world is a puzzle, a picnic, a test,
And thinking’s ok, if it gets you the rest.
Outwitting the ranger, outsmarting the rule,
Life’s something you win if you’re nobody’s fool.
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Baloo drifts by with a shrug and a grin,
Singing, “Relax, let the good times begin.”
He trims life to pleasure, to shade and to song,
Assuming that nothing will go very wrong.
Why fret over futures or duties or fate?
The moment feels fine, so why complicate?
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Rupert steps neatly, scarf straight, manners tight,
Certain that sense will eventually light
the path through enchantment, through goblin or spell.
The world may be odd, but it means to mean well.
He walks in a rhythm, believes in a rhyme,
Because patterns bring purpose, and order takes time.
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Then Fozzie Bear, with a joke and a plea,
A tremor of hope wrapped in “Wocka wocka maybe?”
His faith is in laughter, or at least being seen,
While bombs may be landing here, there and in-between!
If meaning exists, it’s a glance from the crowd:
Laugh with me, he begs, don’t laugh quite so loud.
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Alone on the ice with a mint-sharped stare,
the Glacier Bear watches and does not compare.
He nods at the storm, turns calmly aside,
no warmth in his walk, but no need to hide.
No speeches, no pause, no indulgent delay:
Clear eyes, clean hands, then be on your way.
Life’s crisp, life’s brief, best measured not felt.
Let others get muddled where sentiment melts.
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The Cresta bear pops with a fizz and a grin,
No depth to dive through, no patience, no sin.
“It’s frothy, man!” is his bubble-bright creed,
No why no whatever, just instant meeting of need.
But late in the quiet, the sparkle feels thin
So he laughs once again, and lets more sugar in.
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Then Paddington pads in, polite to the core,
With marmalade kept safe in his hat – slightly worn.
He carries his suitcase, his hopes, and his grace,
Assumes there’s a welcome in every new place.
With manners like armour, he meets what appears,
A stranger, a scramble, a sandwich, or fears.
He’s not very flashy, nor bold with his claim,
But kindness, he shows, is a serious game.
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I’ve watched them all pass with their systems and schemes,
Their answers, their songs, their comedic extremes.
Each offers a method, a posture, a tone,
A way to stay upright, protected, alone.
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Then Pooh ambles in, with a thought half-complete,
Pausing for honey, for friends, for a seat.
He doesn’t outthink, or escape, or refine.
He wonders. He waits. Gets things wrong sometimes.
He knows he is muddled, and lives there content,
Where moments are shared, maybe, not efficiently spent.
No mastery claimed, no chill, no display,
Just walking with Piglet and saying, “Oh, bother, let’s stay.”
If life is a puzzle, he doesn’t insist
On solving it fast or denying it exists.
So keep me the bear who can sit and not know,
Who manages living by letting it go.
While others seek truths that arrive with a shove,
I’ll take Pooh and Piglet; walks, questions, and love.
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Since this next piece was written, social mores have rendered it ‘poem non grata’.
Driving in the sunshine, the wind excites my hair
The radio and I sang along without a care.
‘Twas a lovely day for cruising, I had a smile for everyone
especially at the traffic lights where I got close to the car in front.
The driver was very sociable, seemed he fancied a chat
but I couldn’t hear him properly so I waved and called, “What’s that?”
It’s so lovely to know strangers can be so friendly and so kind
as to wonder, if my parents had been wed; or if I were blind!
I replied with equal zest, I was fine and I’m glad he asked
to which he said something like ‘stick it up your pass.’ (?)
I was quite confused and tried to tell him this
but his gestured explanation (in the form a loose clenched fist)
I didn’t understand, so I blew him a friendly kiss.
In response he mouthed at me something about two hats
I put up two fingers to try confirming it was that.
I guess he had high blood pressure coz his face went kind of puce,
were I moody I’d have thought he was giving me abuse
but they were simple love signs of that I’m pretty sure;
well, if I’d made him angry, for certain he’d have swore.
Instead he suggested we went on some duck hunt
so I followed him really close when he zoomed off in front.
I caught him on the motorway, the one that goes to Bristol
alongside I tried to let him know I didn’t own a pistol
by making a gun shape with my fingers and slowly shaking my head
so he would understand the duck-hunt idea was dead.
He got so animated and was shouting excitedly
He showed me with his fingers he had two guns; one for me.
Well I was on my way to a get some food and was turning off due South
so I let him know by pretending to put a hot dog in my mouth.
I guess this graphic image must have made him hungry too
for when I left the motorway, he was behind me in the queue.
I could see in my rear view mirror he was still communicating
but as we couldn’t hear properly, it was awfully frustrating.
He was clearly so wound up, his face could not get pinker
and he was shouting something out about me being a winker.
Immediately I realised: he thought I fancied him
which explained his rising passion. How could I be so dim?
I shook my head vehemently to let him know for sure
there were “one-way traffic only” signs at my personal back door.
I pointed at him and clearly mouthed “are you gay by any chance?”
I think he thought it was a come on and I was looking for romance.
I could sense his disappointment that I had to turn him down
I let him know by creasing my visage into a frown.
I’m sure he said “I’ll have you” which is why I recoiled somewhat
I wanted him to know, homosexual I am not!
Then he repeated that loose fisted gesture which now I could understand
I knew what he was imagining he was holding in his hand!
Frankly I was horrified that on the road I’d gotten to meet
a man who thought I prefer to drive on the other side of the street!
Whilst my only desire was for this pantomime to end
I guess he only wanted to enlarge the circle of his friends!!
The words of Peter Akinwunmi (Peter Ak'i) 
