2013-09-01 – Poets Ride

1. Miss Mouse
   
2. YAL
   
3. mands
   
4. Oz ( possibly )
   
5. BN
   
6. Lynx (is a poet, but didn't know it)
   
7. skydancer (has no answer) +1
   
8. HairyChris (lowly musician, lousy lyricist, great beard)
   
9. alexanderb
   
10. Stonehedge (piss artist)
    

Same day as the North london derby so should make for a interesting change of scene...

1. Miss Mouse
   
2. YAL
   
3. mands
   
4. Oz ( possibly )
   
5. BN
   
6. Lynx (is a poet, but didn't know it)
   
7. skydancer (has no answer)
   
8. HairyChris (lowly musician, lousy lyricist, great beard)
   
9. alexanderb
   
10. Stonehedge (piss artist)
    
11. Hairnet
    

Hurray, new people!

I'm just finishing off the souvenir book that accompanies the ride and YAL's got the spoke cards in hand.

I am excite! :)

#unabashedpoetrynerd

subscribed

If i can get on my bike before then, this might be manageable for me.

Given my history with literature I would just LOVE to do this.

Lines On A Young Lady's Photograph Album

At last you yielded up the album, which
Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages
Matt and glossy on the thick black pages!
Too much confectionery, too rich
I choke on such nutritious images

My swivel eye hungers from pose to pose
In pigtails, clutching a reluctant cat
Or furred yourself, a sweet girl-graduate
Or lifting a heavy-headed rose
Beneath a trellis, or in a trilby-hat

(Faintly disturbing, that, in several ways)
From every side you strike at my control
Not least through those these disquieting chaps who loll
At ease about your earlier days
Not quite your class, I'd say, dear, on the whole

But o, photography! as no art is
Faithful and disappointing! that records
Dull days as dull, and hold-it smiles as frauds
And will not censor blemishes
Like washing-lines, and Hall's-Distemper boards

But shows a cat as disinclined, and shades
A chin as doubled when it is, what grace
Your candour thus confers upon her face!
How overwhelmingly persuades
That this is a real girl in a real place

In every sense empirically true!
Or is it just the past? Those flowers, that gate
These misty parks and motors, lacerate
Simply by being you; you
Contract my heart by looking out of date

Yes, true; but in the end, surely, we cry
Not only at exclusion, but because
It leaves us free to cry. We know what was
Won't call on us to justify
Our grief, however hard we yowl across

The gap from eye to page. So I am left
To mourn (without a chance of consequence)
You, balanced on a bike against a fence
To wonder if you'd spot the theft
Of this one of you bathing; to condense

In short, a past that no one now can share
No matter whose your future; calm and dry
It holds you like a heaven, and you lie
Unvariably lovely there
Smaller and clearer as the years go by.

^ Brilliant! Facebook isn't quite the same is it? :)

^^ So glad you might come Shoosh, that would be wonderful.

How can you have a poets ride and not do it on a Friday?

Badum-tish!

Think of how many terrible jokes we'd all be saved if I had named this The Poetry Ride instead. May be time to PM Velocio...

• Miss Mouse
  
• YAL
  
• mands
  
• BN
  
• skydancer (has no answer)
  
• HairyChris (lowly musician, lousy lyricist, great beard)
  
• alexanderb
  
• Stonehedge (piss artist)
  
• Hairnet
  
• anothersam
  
  

Unable to make it.
Failed to find an appropriate poem.
What a disappointment.

We must love one another or die. Some poet said that.
W.H. Auden.

Unable to make it.
Failed to find an appropriate poem.
What a disappointment.
^ Almost a haiku though!

^ Is that a command or another line of verse?

^^Or is something so much worse?

Bugger that attempt to rhyme, instead
I'll mend the list and am mildly pissed
Some one bumped my +1 from this thread

• Miss Mouse
  
• YAL
  
• mands
  
• BN
  
• skydancer (has no answer) +1
  
• HairyChris (lowly musician, lousy lyricist, great beard)
  
• alexanderb
  
• Stonehedge (piss artist)
  
• Hairnet
  
• anothersam
  

I might be down for this ride. Should be interesting in seeing the places such great poets lived and worked.

^ Might? MIGHT?

That's right - all the greats - skydancer, anothersam, youramericanlover.

And the bearded ones.

And the bearded ones.

Not Stonehedge.

And fwiw:

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

• John Milton, Paradise Lost
  

And the bearded ones.

Not Stonehedge.

Not all beards are on the face.

Not all beards are on the face.

I have at least 3 on my back. Your point is what, exactly?

Lower the tone guys!

pure thoughts

pure thoughts

pure thoughts

Unable to make it.
Failed to find an appropriate poem.
What a disappointment.
I'm so making you do the recce this weekend though ;)

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,-
And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!

heightening the tone again...

American impersonator!

Daljit Nagra - Darling & Me!

Di barman's bell done dinging
So I phone di dimply- mississ,
Putting some gas on cookah,
Bonus pay I bringin'

Downing drink, I giddily
Home for Pakeezah record
To which we go-go, tango,
For roti - to kitchen - she rumba

I tell her of poor Jimmy John,
In apron his girlfriend
She bring to pub his plate of
Chicken pie and dry white

Potato! Like Hilda Ogden
Heeya, eat your chuffy dinnaaah!
She huffing off di stage
As he tinkle his glass of Guinness

We say we could never eat
In publicity like that, if we did
Wife advertisement may need
Of solo punch in di smack

I pull her to me - my skating
Hands on her back are Bolero
By Torvill and Dean. giggling
With Bhangra arms in air

She falling for Lino, till I
Swing her up in forearm!
Darling is so pirouettey with us
For whirlwind married month

That every night, though by day
We work factory-hard, she always
Have disco of drumstick in pot.
Hot, waiting for me

Dal^ is a great poet. I could ask him if he wants to join us on the ride...