Mary, Mary…

In Competition No. 3070 you were invited to provide a poem with the title ‘When I Grow Up I Want to Be [insert name here]’.
 
Performance poet Megan Beech was so incensed by the abuse heaped by Twitter trolls on her idol Mary Beard that she wrote a poem called ‘When I Grow Up I Want to Be Mary Beard’ (‘an academic and a classy lady to boot’). Which is what gave me the idea for this challenge.
 
Another classicist, the esteemed Peter Jones, was the object of W.J. Webster’s affection. Otherwise it was an eclectic entry that ranged from the Dalai Lama to Donald Trump. Commendations to Alan Millard, Douglas G. Brown and Paul Carpenter, who wants to be Rod Liddle when he grows up. The winners earn £25 each.

I think I’d like to be the Dalai Lama —
Someone whose purpose is to make life calmer
Beyond the Twitter-world’s fake news and drama,
Conspiracy-mad theories of Big Pharma
And social media’s role as an alarmer;
Like one whose peaceful habits are as armour,
As tuned into the seasons as a farmer,
Who sees the earth as one large diorama
To be respected (therefore, not a harmer)
Taking life’s journey quiet as a palmer
And focused on creation of good karma,
Gentler and less exotic than a llama,
As careful of all things as an embalmer,
With courtesy and kindness a disarmer —
Yes, there’s a model, truly grown-up, charmer.
D.A. Prince
 
When I grow up I want to be
Beelzebub incarnate,
the fires of Hell would set me free
from a semi-detached in Barnet.
 
I’d lead all innocents astray
and fan the flames of lust;
depravity’s the devil’s way;
it’s healthy and robust.
 
I’d violate humanity,
corruption would be rife,
inciting the inanity
of conflict and of strife.
 
Then strip the planet — ha! too late,
there goes my fiendish fun,
the world turned to a hellish state?
The job’s already done.
Sylvia Fairley


 
I want to be an expert in some field,
To take a sphere of thought and make it mine:
That’s the kind of power I’d like to wield,
Where sage and teacher seamlessly combine.