When I was younger I saw my daddy cry
And curse at the wind.
He broke his own heart and I watched
As he tried to reassemble it.
And my momma swore
That she would never let herself forget.
And that was the day that I promised
I'd never sing of love i...
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Once Mr McAllister was gone, Keating went around with a garbage bin.
"Keep ripping gentlemen." He made his way to the back.
"This is a battle a war. And the casualties could be your hearts and souls." Charlie spit his paper out.
"Thank you Mr Dalton." I grimaced.
"Armies of academics going forward measuring poetry. No! We will not have that here. No more of Mr J. Evans Pritchard." Keating said.
"Now my class you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savour words and language." I smiled.
"No matter what anybody tells you words and ideas can change the world." My eyes went to Neil.
"I see that look in Mr Pitts' eye like 19th century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school." Charlie caught me and smirked.
"Right? Maybe. Mr Hopkins you may agree with him thinking "Yes we should simply study our Mr Pritchard and learn our rhyme and metre and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions"."
"I have a little secret for you. Huddle up." Keating said as no one did anything.
"Huddle up!" We all moved closer to him.
I went beside Neil's desk, kneeling down, the boy blushed.
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race." Keating said.
"And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine." I looked at Neil.
"Law." This time he looked at me.
"Business, engineering: these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love-- these are what we stay alive for." Neil looked at me but I tried not to look at him.
"To quote from Whitman. "O me O life of the questions of these recurring. Of the endless trains of the faithless. Of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these O me O life? Answer: That you are here. That life exists and identity. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." Keating quoted.
"What will your verse be?" The bell rang.
Neil and I were in the library looking for the yearbook that had Keating in it, so we could find out more about him.
"Find it yet?" Neil asked.
"Nope... wait." I looked up to see the year '44 when he graduated.
"It's up there." Neil came up behind me.
I was only 5'4 and even if I went on my tippy toes, I still couldn't reach it.
