The Gisborne Institute of Broadsword Polishing and Leather Lustering

[SupermassiveLBD]

Motto: Honi soit qui mal y pense

Master Classes available in:

Smouldering
Stompy boot wearing
Pointy weapon waving, and the effective deployment thereof
Exotic equestrianism
Imperatives
and The cause and alleviation of damsels' distress (Godwyves also welcome)

Well, I dunno, Massive. I guess if I ploughed my way through all the Byron biographies I could reach a conclusion, but for now it seems to me that there would be so much sleaze and grime that the poetry would not be enough to offset it. Although ::wavers:: it would be good to hear The Voice reciting She walks in beauty.

Ironic, isn't it, such beauty produced by such a slimeball. I would certainly give a lot to hear the Man read it.

Hey look! Ironic, rhymes with Byronic, right? That's gotta have, like, some deep significance, innit?

I used to think all poets were Byronic--
Mad, bad and dangerous to know.
And then I met a few. Yes it's ironic--
I used to think all poets were Byronic.
They're mostly wicked as a ginless tonic
And wild as pension plans. Not long ago
I used to think all poets were Byronic--
Mad, bad and dangerous to know.

Just a little ditty I dashed off. Actually, that's Triolet by Wendy Cope.

It's all to do with the sleaze:beauty ratio. After reading Edna's tome I decided there was no way to get the two into any sort of balance and so my screenwriting career has come to an early end!

Shall we have a whip round and see if we can raise a few bob and pay him to read it for us? It's only short, we wouldn't need much.

There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,
'Tis the seal, despair,-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.

If we raise enough I'd like him to read that too, if he wouldn't mind, thanks very much.

Wot, the Byron or the Wendy Cope? Either would be lovely. And what was the modern American poem that Spiro posted a while back that went on about admiring the way the beloved's knees bent?

You know Maudie, I shall really have to invest in that tin-foil hat. people are reading my mind right left and centre, these days. Is nothing sacred?

You can't give him your credit card, Massive. Just think of the bank fees he'd have to pay, we'd lose whole stanzas. Can't you raid the SuperBoys' moneyboxes?

Do you mean this:

Valentine
The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:
[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/UF/album/UF5/slides/uf5_17.html I?d like to find you in the shower
And chase the soap for half an hour.]]
I?d like to have you in my power and see you eyes dilate.
I?d like to have your back to scour
And other parts to lubricate.
Sometimes I feel it is my fate
To chase you screaming up a tower or make you cower
By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.(...or Plato)
I?d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a fete.
I?d like to offer you a flower.

I like the hair upon your shoulders,
Falling like water over boulders.
[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/StrikeBack/album/Episode1/slides/ep1_248.html I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.
Your collar-bones have great potential]]
(I?d like all your particulars in folders marked Confidential).

[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Specials/album/BAFTA2010/album/slides/TonyBAFTApic1.html I like your cheeks, I like your nose,
I like the way your lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your teeth
(Half above and half beneath) in rows.]]

way they focus on me gives me twinges.
Your upper arms drive me berserk.
I like the way your elbows work, on hinges.

I like your wrists, I like your glands,
I like the fingers on your hands.
I?d like to teach them how to count,
And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.
I?d like to give you just the right amount and get some change.

I like it when you tilt your cheek up.
I like the way you nod and hold a teacup.
[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Spooks/spooks8/album/Episode4/slides/ep4_073.html I like your legs when you unwind
them.]]
Even in trousers I don?t mind them.
[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/UF/album/UF2/slides/uf2_22.jpg I like each softly-moulded kneecap.
I like the little crease behind them.
I?d always know, without a recap, where to find them.]]

I like the sculpture of your ears.
[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Spooks/spooks8/album/Episode5/slides/ep5_028.html I like the way your profile disappears
Whenever you decide to turn and face me.]]
I?d like to cross two hemispheres and have you chase me.
I?d like to smuggle you across frontiers
Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.
I?d like you to embrace me.

I?d like to see you ironing your shirt and cancelling other dates.
I?d like to unbutton your shirt.
I like the way your chest inflates.
I?d like to soothe you when you?re hurt
Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.

[[http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Spooks/Spooks9/album/episode8/album/slides/8_285.htmlI?d like you even if you were malign
And had a yen for sudden homicide.]]
I?d let you put insecticide into my wine.
I?d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein
Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian?s Jekyll and Hyde.
I?d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen ni Houlihan
How melodramatic
If you were something muttering in attics
Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.

You are the end of self-abuse.
You are the eternal masculine.
I?d like to find a good excuse
To call on you and find you in.
I?d like to put my hand beneath your chin. And see you grin.
I?d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,
I?d like to feel my lips upon your skin,
I?d like to make you reproduce.

I?d like you in my confidence.
I?d like to be your second look.
I?d like to let you try the French Defence and mate you with my rook.
I?d like to be your preference and hence
I?d like to be around when you unhook.
I?d like to be your only audience,
The final name in your appointment book, your future tense.
John Fuller

Oh, the blessed Emily. As a contrast, we could add

Higgledy-piggledy
Emily Dickinson
Liked to use dashes
Instead of full stops.

Nowadays, faced with such
Idiosyncrasy,
Critics and editors
Send for the cops.

But what I would really like is

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeateddying
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!

Yes, Spiro, that's the one!

::Gets out roll of foil::

Which design do you prefer, Massive?

One

Two

Three?

Spiro, pretty please will you go back and put the non-working links back in sometime? I think RAnet has moved lots of the pics around so the originals aren't accessible .

Thanks, LadyD.

Hmm, decisions decisions. As an ex-wannabe fashionista, maye I should wait for Phillip Treacy to do one.

Re the spondulicks, i have managed to prise out three billion and eleventy six Islandish pfunds out of SB Minor's moneybox with a rusty knife. That is about equal to, let me see

57p in real money

I will have another bash at it next time I'm on the laptop. I did it on phone originally and it took forever!

Great to see favourite poems again btw, .And read new ones.

I bet it did! It's very impressive. LordD wanted to know what I was giggling at as I was amusing myself predicting which pics you'd used and was right on about 90% of them .

::squints at screen::

Oh, Spiro. I had forgotten your magnum opus of adding all those links. I just loved the certainty of knowing what was behind the teacup reference.

::quivers::

This one is rather Phillip Treacey-esque.

57p is a good start. A quick rummage down the back of the sofa has revealed a button off my coat (missing since last winter), a dead AAA battery, copious balls of cat/dog hair, a little green alien, several Starburst wrappers and a petrified apple core.

I intend to create an objet d'art to auction on Ebay. I think the proceeds may double the fund.

I am worried that that hat, fetching as it is, may not be sufficient. Perhaps Massive should go for full body coverage?

Hahaha, yes, but just look what will happen when she becomes a little over heated thinking about Guy....

Another Highwayman but not such a happy ending as I suspect ours will have.

That makes me think I should read some more Daphne du Maurier. Speaking of which - Maxim de Winter?

::quivers at the very thought::

Instead of a spoon, Massive could always offer Gizzy a tin-opener.

Isn't that the hat Princess Beatrice wore to Wills's wedding?

As for the outfit you suggest, pooh, that piece is so last year, Maudie.

Maybe something more along these lines