Rip It Up

Good morning. Ladies and gentlemen, would you all please open the sheet of paper previously distributed? Mrs. Cecilia Ratnam, could you please read the passage entitled “ Understanding Poetry”?

She stands up and reads it aloud.

INTRODUCTION

MEASURING POETRY
By Prof. Dr. J.H. Evans Pritchard PhD

Poetry’s greatness can be measured by plotting its importance on the x axis, and its elegance on the y axis. These two join to make a set of coordinates. Consequently, ‘Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth has a measurement of 57, relatively high. Make sure the intersection is at 90 degrees and that the formula for rhyme and rhythm is accurate.

Thank you. You may sit down. That, ladies and gentlemen, was pure excrement. Poppycock. Utter nonsense. Poetry cannot be measured! Can you measure love? Can you measure hate? Can you? No! Now, I want you all to do something. Rip it up. You heard me, rip it up. Silence... Rip. It. Out. Be gone Mr. J. Evans Pritchard! I want to hear nothing but the tearing of Mr. P. Tear it , shred it! We’ll perforate it, put it on a roll….

My friends, this is war, and the casualties could be your lives. Armies of academics stepping forward measuring poetry… Ha! This is not American bandstand! Oh, I like Bryon, I’ll give him a 42, but I can’t dance to him. Oh that Shakespeare fellow, I’ll give him a 9 on the x- axis. No, we’ll not have that here.

Look at that board, what do you see? A dot? Do you know what I see? I see millions of white dots interconnected, forming that whiteboard. The question is perception. One man’s rubbish is another man’s treasure. A glass may seem half full or half empty. So, what about that dot? That, is you. If you drop one teeny drop of ink into a bottle of water, the colour will change. You are the decider of your opinion, not some International Measuring System. You, can change the colour of the world. You, are master of your soul; You, are the commander of your heart; You, are the captain of your mind. You, are the one who can persuade through words.

Those words may yet to change the minds of millions everywhere. But are our works futile? Look at the world crumbling in despair. Look at the victims of greed that could be you. Look at the Earth being plundered and pillaged by mankind. Look at the world spiraling into doom at the whim of madmen. What good is there amid these?

The answer? Close your eyes. Do you see yourself toiling under the hot sun? No, you see yourself enjoying life with your loved ones. Medicine, law, engineering, yes, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, romance, beauty, love, these are what we live for. And so, the answer? That life exists, and identity. That, you can put a twinkling set of words in one’s mind. That, your words may change the word. That, the play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. Slowly… That the play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?