I would like
to welcome you
To what it
is I’m going to do
Which is,
not really, to convince
You to be princess
or prince
Or even to
be king or queen
But instead
be something that’s never been
Transcend any
expectation
Through brutal,
honest, perspiration
For you are
all of mental fame
Exceptional at
the mental game
That we
refer to as education
So let us
with no consternation
Debate upon
the point of this
Box in which
we do persist
To fill your
mind with useless drivel
From mathmatic’s
graphs to DT’s swivel
Because what
we do in here is tough
But, for
you, not tough enough,
Because you,
you apparently special few
Who it would
seem don’t know what to do
To push
forward your impressive learning
So now to
satiate your yearning
I come here
to cram your little brains,
Not with
numbers, not with names
But instead
an idea of working ethic
So that you’ll
avoid pathetic
Attitudes to
your every fleeting day
When it’s
simply far too easy to say
“yeah that’s
fine” and let it be
And have for
dinner your mundane C
And let the
moment pass you by
Instead staring
lovingly at the guy
Or girl who
sits across from you and ponder
On a
weekend, own-clothes wander
The nervous
invitation to the park
Or the hope
of a cinema kiss in the dark
And then one
day “lessons, I remember those”
Twenty years
ago I chose
To hide from
English in the loo
Because I thought
it the thing to do
But now
year, 7,8 and this is true,
There is an
unbelievable world for you.
And, when
your older,
You’ll be
bolder,
In declaring
your regret
And you’ll
forget
The window-gazing
double french
As with a
sickening wrench
You’ll
realise school is gone forever
And despite
the lump in throat you’ll never
Ever be in
this box again
Jour de jour
semaine après semaine
Dripping through
your fingers
Perhaps right
now your boredom lingers
And so
perhaps some clarity
Of this strangest
of assemblies
And why then
this poetic rant
A simple
one: there is no can’t
There is
just can’t yet, I will one day,
That is what
driven students say.
Because For
the amazing, failure is no fear
They hunt it
down, they grasp its ear
And ride it
bravely through the dark
With fire in
eyes and primal bark
And spur it
to jump higher walls
And accept,
consistent, painful falls
But know
that sets of brushed down clothes
Raise them higher
above all those
That never tried
to jump at all
Those people
who find their destined fall
In jobs they
didn’t want at all
And hope to
find an out at a midnight ball
While,
elsewhere, the failures brave and true,
Attempt more
than is easy to do
And prosper
and, critically, have fun
And realise
that life isn’t won
It’s a game
played on an endless board
And played
by all of humanity’s hoard
A game of difficulty
where you’re the piece
That shuffles
slowly til deceased
Where winning
is a terrible lie
Told by
those who just get by
And pray in
the churches of lotteries
And x-factor
heroes and flat-screen tv’s
Because
success is not a letter
It’s not
money, or exams, it’s being better
And better
still and never content
With anything
on which your effort is spent
It’s reaching
far beyond your reach
It’s the
willingness to teach
Yourself the
things you want to know
It’s a constant
burning desire to go
Beyond what’s
in the range of your hand
To go where
things aren’t planned
Because you
are flicking unmade switches
Instead of
passing out in ditches
Because you
bothered, because you care
Beyond simply
what you’re going to wear
Or what they
look like, what looks good
The things
you like because you should
Pursue everything
you want whatever it may be
And then the
naysayers will see
That everything
you have done
Is beautiful.
So perhaps, I
guess you’re wondering why the poetics
I mean, isn’t
it all a bit pathetic
It all
depends on your outlook
And the
notice of my words you took
As I ranted
words that just might rhyme
And you
begrudged the waste of your time
The point is
that it isn’t quick
To write in
couplets, there’s no trick
Except hard
work and lonely grit
And a desire
to get on with it
And really
it’s a stupid idea
At which
others might scoff and sneer
But I simply
do not care
I’m only
bothered how I fare
At my
self-set, absurd task
And at it’s
end it’s me I’ll ask
How much
better it could be
It’s
progress that interests me
For as long
as I perceive my skull as hollow
I’ll find
information to swallow
Despite the
knowledge that I’ll never be quite filled
It doesn’t
matter at all, I’m strong willed.
I’m sorry, I’ve
digressed as usual
And so as
not to confuddle you all
I will
summarise
My lengthy,
rambling surmise.
I wrote
this.
And this and
all of this
And so my
fragile coup de grace
Is that
every moment is just fragile glass
So Quit Your
Worrying
And instead
enjoy the scurrying
Passage of
not knowing everything
But trying
to. And the joy
Of making
all of life your toy
As you find
the beautiful wonder
Of the
freeing, magical splendour
Of this
vast, mysterious, land
Because for
you there’s nothing planned
You are
free. No linear storyline
No certain
future, it’s all fine
You are the
heirs to everything you touch
And there is
nothing in the world too much
For you to
handle, if you bother
To fill a
day, then fill another
With all
that you can bring to living
And never
stop intellectually giving
To yourself,
and those around
Do not be
afraid of the loud sound
Of trying to
do everything that can be done
Your silence
doesn’t serve anyone
So upturn
mountains, paint the sun
Create worlds,
reinvent fun,
Splitting the
atom is so passé
Compared to
what wonders may come your way.
You own this
little bildungsroman
So make it
as giant as you can
One moment,
sorry, while I interject,
There is at
work a slight subject
That may
come across as arrogant,
But I assure
you it is relevant,
It is the
topic of my deepest fear
And that is
that I’m simply dying here
I don’t mean
that I fear if my health is fine
I’m sorry, I
have to borrow a singer’s line
To describe
the midnight-waking fear
That “I’m
not really here’
My fear is I
will waste all this
And that it won’t
matter if I did not exist
As far as I
know I have one life
One shot at
this so full of strife
But for the
fragility I’ll not worry
And I’ll
walk through in no hurry
Because this
world is more than enough
Isn’t it
okay to believe that, well, stuff,
Is worth our
exploration?
Our fascination?
Our delectable, devour, er, ation?
That there
is simply enough here to see
To drink in
for one eternity?
That we as
fleeting people exist
In just a
blink of this world’s iris
And that
fraction of a slice of time
Is ours, it’s
what is yours, it’s mine
And so why,
why? When surrounded by such amazement
Do some
insist on being sofa’d and stagnant
Why do we
insist on letting moment’s fetter
When you
could free them for something better
Live. LIVE
for no one but yourself
Live because
some ill health
Could strike
you in the dead of night
And snuff
out what sits here, wonderful and bright
Please understand
I don’t aim to fear
I’m merely
trying to press on you what’s dear
And what
should be dear to you
Is. YOU. Your
dreams, and to them being true.
And there
you are, alone at last,
With heart
and volume falling fast.
So turn it
up. Embrace your skill.
And tell the
world you’ll never. Never. Have your fill.
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