Is he bright enough? they said,
As I bent my aching head
Around the nonsense they forced in -
They should have left it in their bin.
They weren’t bright enough, you see,
And viewed the world complacently,
Pushing the little that they knew
Naively into my full view.
There wasn’t much there, that was plain,
No questions, fun, not much to gain
Unless one’s mind was very square,
Or mental cupboard starkly bare.
Their teaching hadn’t changed a jot
Since Noah was a little tot:
Grimly, thinly, pursed lips tight
They blindly exercised their might.
But when I cried off, stayed away,
A register forced me to stay:
What way is this to teach, I cried? -
They shook their heads and sadly sighed.
So what hope is there if the fools
Who teach us based on mindless rules
Are trapped within a web of lies
And never – ever – raise thier eyes?
Imagine if instead they’d taught
The rudiments of simple thought,
The bliss of creativity,
The wonders of the mind set free.
If only they had questioned ‘Why’,
And let imagination fly,
If only they had let dreams loose -
They might, just might, have been some use.
Oct. 2001
I was a (crap) student at a stifling college. Their method of teaching came from the dark ages. The teachers were mostly fools.
But apparently I wasn’t bright enough …
