BS: Poetic Statuary

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: GUEST,Minerva
Date: 08 Oct 04 - 10:12 AM

This noble statue, of bronze (or is it marble),
This shaft, this menhir, this column at which we marvel,
In magnificent and noble verticality erected,
Is by feeble sporran and mere wispy kilt protected.

If its solid filled ears could but hear this glib talk of bosoms and hands,
Would a CAT (mud) scan reveal the stirring of its imagined glands
If such exist except in our imaginations,
Which spiral in ever deepening poetical machinations.

After contemplating the statue and starting his poetical wheels turning,
Doughty McGonnagall, in his inept but empathtic rhyming
wished the statue never the pangs of hunger to feel.
But of what hunger does he speak? For food? Get real.

When in days past the canny scuptor the chunky stane (or clay) he chiseled,
Chins, and angles that purported to exhibit nobility of visage grizzled,
Did he endow his his puppet, his dummy, his mannequin,
With the wherewithal with which his imagination, if any, could make him a man again.

Or is that a mere filled sprue hole,
Where molten white-hot metal once flowed in the mold like magma through the statue's soul,
And although now cold and solid and stiff within this shell of a bard,
Does it really matter, as long as its hard?

But wait, we who are mortal flesh in the bosom of the world,
Constantly leap to unjustified conclusions absurd
Are we even sure the noble statue portrays a guy,
His (her) adam's apple I cannot spy.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 07:24 PM

ACK! Must filter out that disturbing mental image! Sinful! Bad! Scandalous!

If McGonagall had ever discovered the joys of sexuality, I fear the World would have lost a great body of poetry. His muse would have consumed itself in a plethora of lustful acts, instead of churning out deathless poetic volumes by the lorry load.

Matter of fact, if I had not discovered sex I would probably be as great a guitar players as Clapton by now... :-) I blame my general lack of accomplishment in life squarely on the wellnigh irresistible attractions of the female gender!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Amos
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 03:39 PM

By George! I think he's got it!!

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 03:30 PM

As I bid a fond adieu to this so noble thread,
And try to shake the fuzziness from deep inside my heat,
The verses wax poetic and they all too often fit,
Like glove on hand--McGonagall's hand--placed gently on a tit.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Amos
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM

Quest ye not meaning in all you behold,
For meaning can betray and make you old,
A tired hero trapped in an endless path
Of self-reflective myriad thought, a swath
Of meanings upon meanings to endlessly unfold.

Garrison Tupperly,
Enchantments from The Ozark Highlands
1929

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 11:45 AM

Now...you are sounding just like William Shatner, Amos. What...could this mean? :-)

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Amos
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 08:51 AM

LIttle Hawk:

I wasn't writing for McGonagle. Not being his re-incarnation I would feel ... extremely... foolish even trying to speak for someone with such a distinctive style.

But my defense of bosom watching stands firm in the face of all his limb-covering antics!

A

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 04:54 AM

McGonagall's form is fairest of them all
each limping patterned line do I recall
gives rhythm a new form, or so it is well purported
and consequently I say - let sonnets be aborted!

for in a thumped and regular patterned verse
of McGonagall's, all else is truly worse
like a three legged race on crutches, he doth speak
and I adoring, gaze at his poetic feet, at the end of the week.

So ye McGonagall fans, come all and one
to triumph in the brave Canadian sun
so that McGonagall himself shall never die
but posthumously decompose, in fame, let all comply.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Ebbie
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 01:48 AM

Hooray
I say
Fair well you've done it
Now how about doing a sonnet?

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 01:11 AM

i notice that the propensity to write in rhyme is catching
that when i read others, more versification is fulsomely hatching
but yes, on a rainy day each minute painfully crawls
and so we write about McGonagall and shopping malls.

and its true, whatever rusty jewels our pens disgorge
they're nothing near as bad as the blither some politicians disgorge
especially in australia, this week of all to cometh
when promises like comets streak the sky and yet will plummet

when our own election finally consumates its self
and for three more years our citizens shall lie forgotten
upon the shelf.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: JennyO
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 12:33 AM

Now I fear I have delved into Pandora's Box
Amongst all sorts of forgotten bad verse and old smelly socks
And now that I see it, in my eye there is a tear
To see how this thread has unleashed a form of verbal diarrhoea.

They tumble out all over, these wretched little words
Just like a multitude of tiny little turds
And when I check the mudcat to see what I have said
My mind is going numb and my heart is filled with dread.

To think that I can write 5 verses in 5 minutes and call it poetry
Then disgorge the contents out in public for all the world to see
But then I think that much worse things have been said
By the politicians who lead our countries, and I don't feel so bad.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 12:23 AM

I don't think McGonagall ever wrote about bosoms, Amos. He would have become overwrought, I imagine, trying to deal with such a sensitive subject. He did, however, write reams of passionate verse regarding the evils of drink. It would be most un-McGonagallesque to write about bosoms, except in a phrase such as "the bosom of his family and country". They used to even cover the lower limbs of furniture in those times, don't forget, as it might be too suggestive to expose them to the public gaze.

Still, they did manage somehow to propagate further generations...so I suspect some bosoms must have been seen here and there under certain circumstances.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 12:15 AM

Gawd...LOL! I'm becoming incoherent. McGonagall would be beside himself with joy if he could see what his inspiration hath wrought this day!

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: JennyO
Date: 01 Oct 04 - 12:05 AM

So let us now build a statue of the poet McGonagall
So that when we do our supermarket shopping at the mall
We will remember that noble bard as we eat our sausage roll
And give thanks for one who has us all in thrall.

A noble statue made of bronze will stand to greet the day
As we park our cars and walk to the shops without dismay
And the peace doves all will gather on this brand new resting place
And relieve themselves in unison for the rest of their days.

And laughing children will definitely play on it in the park
And rain and sleet and snow over the years will leave their mark
And this great man's poetry will live for another day
As we walk past it and wend our way to work without delay.

Oh that I could some day have such a fine statue erected
To have such a fine thing is not to be expected
Such a glorious honour is only to be aspired to
And lots of rhyme and metre is certainly required too.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 11:57 PM

These sentioments, I must confess, doth make my heart but burst
Anyone who doesn't like it I say is cursed,
And how also this Statue doth but move me to write effulgent rhyme
Such effluent words which flow with ever winding appreciation sublime

Morality is more elegant by the metre,
Tho I hope in weathers cold they'll put a heater
Beneath the freezing stone upon which Our Robbie resides
Some warmth for the buttocks of fond admirers 'twould provide

Fellow-citizens, this Statue is so beautiful I could sing,
But let the council not give cold comfort to the ring,
Of those who place their derriere with cheek
To sit beneath the Bard and have a peek

again I exhort, to all and to asunder
that never in fair rhyme should all men chunder
instead producing such fair and uplifting verses
that shall fill our hearts, like gold fills the good man's purses.

and remember wisely, those whose hearts are fu' o care
the greatest happiness you can truly bear
is to remember that happiness itself
lies, like many women, quietly waiting on the shelf.

and all you have to do is reach and take
and then you can but eat it, AND the cake
and just like our Robbie, quietly digest
eventually you will eliminate the rest.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Amos
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 11:50 PM

Dear drunkards all, foreswear the puritan squawk
Now tendered to your ears by our bold Little Hawk
Who full of runny clouds of moral fog and drool,
Presumes to hand to other men a moral rule

To say what should and should not be pursued
And whether men's language should be neat, or lewd
And if your eye should fix on kerb and wall and square
Rather than on some beauteous bosom stare!

Nay never say deny, when to thine lights
Sweet gentle curves appear, rich in delight
Nor flinch from holy contemplation, never folly,
Of full supported nipple, gentle aureoli,

And all the beauties of the curve divine, for there,
Divinity doth mortal raiment share
And in support of golden globes divine
Reveals the' intent of ever Higher Mind!

Thus turn ye away from Grundy, Bowdler, prude,
And from laments by moralisers rude,
And pretense loud by cheap historian,
Or even reborn old Victorian!

But know by being sure of what's within
The honest fire of joy, that never is a sin
And do not give your soul into the lonely thrall
Of Little Hawk, reincarnate McGonagall!

Hastings Winthrop Doweather
Letters to the Missionary
Sterling, Massachusetts, 1897

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 11:34 PM

My heart swells until it might well burst asunder
Before the strains of such puissant poetic thunder
As I have seen, I do declare, this eve upon the page
Wherein savants such as freda and Amos proudly siezed the stage

And did declare in verses most magnificent
Emotions neither lewd nor even slightly maleficent
No, not of the coarser sort by which society is oftimes cursed
By those vile ruffians who do consort with more vulgar verse

Such as may be heard at night in those noisome public houses
That are scattered about our fair country towns like some many louses
Wherein those vile wretches copiously and heedlessly consume
The spiritous liquors that must one day deliver them to their doom

And these tragic souls then wander the streets declaiming
With ribald verse and vulgar songs profanely exclaiming
They do affront the mother and child and the virgins too
As they stick facedown on the pavement like carpenter's glue

There to disgrace themselves and impoverish their poor wives
Whose faces wax pale like sheets or perhaps old butter knives
For what should transpire when the sotted wretch comes home vexed
To find that his vile habit has left him morally perplexed

And not of any use to the betterment of society
Nor even of as much utility as a leaden boat would be
If launched upon the waters, for being overheavy it must sink
Just as does the drunkard down, down into his drink!

Therefore, be warned all who would be thus enticed astray
From the bosom of a family life. Do not be waylaid!
But eschew the cursed demon drink, and live to be a credit
To your queen and country, without affrontery. There! I'm glad I said it.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 11:06 PM

for one consistent thing was William Mc Gonagall famous
his verses rhymed invariably, never mind the scan
and now i think, and say to you, But Amos!
which of us could better such a man?

who of us can now send to the worm farm of poetic history
such a poet as McGonagall, a witer of bland mystery
for within the veins of time and honour speak
of many a heart which would forever feel quite a bit bleak

If McGonagall, bless his golden copperplate hand,
should with his works fly in the dust and sand
into the ashes of incinerated waste
which are condemned to fly through such as your poor taste.

to each their own, and everyone of us indulged
diversity in versity i do indulge
else before us in the swills of time is lost
McGonagall, to what great cultural cost?

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 11:02 PM

Awesome. Absolutely awesome. Wow. An epic. Words fail me. Whew.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Amos
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:57 PM

Now with measured steps, we leave this hall,
And turn our backs on poets great and small,
But as for rodents, one stand out above them all:
It is the Scot, Wiliam McGonagall

Who with a blink, a nod, a tip of hat
Could turn a poem out just like that
And leave it lying there before the madding masses
Like some ripe fruit produced by horse's asses.

Never as great as Burns, never as wise
Never with tongue as sweet, or clear his eyes
But as for length of product in numbers round
It may be that our William won hands down.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:47 PM

Splendid. Awe-inspiring. Moving. I am touched.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:45 PM

But this Statue, eternally defies the winds of time,
And I hope will long be seen in the public mall at Dundee;
It has been manufactured to last past the insurance date
Indeed, may our children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children's children be able to admire it, still standing in state

And so how can we, mere chroniclers of sculpted verse
Condemn this ode to poetry's dark and doomed black hearse
For where a sculpture of the Greatest Bard stands defiant before time
So should we, the humble catters yet continue with our rhyme

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:26 PM

And here we're left with a tale in need of an end,
A tale of hope and joy; a tale that seeks to surrender
Itself to feelings of great worthfulness and stateless knots
That seek to ravel poetic ropes into beautiful thought.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:21 PM

Proud Robbie Burns, upright for all who wilt
Observe his rocky sporran and the marble kilt,
Chiselled jaw and the stony noble brow,
before which many who love all Robbie's poems will stoop and bow

And yet alone, in wansome or in pensive mood
He wandered lonely through the bonnie doon
And cast his eyes so weary, fu' o' care
Across the banks and braes which bloomed so fair

Alas there may be some who to this proud monument do come to seek
Who have travelled far to come, observe and peek
Who never spy the wisdom in that statue built
Instead, who wonder what lies beneath that checquered kilt

A chequered history not many men becomes
Yet some do wear this burden wearily
Our Robbie Burns a tartan life did lead
Where many roses bloomed did our dear robbie wantonly cast his seed

This statue shows so proud for all to see
The burdened heart and lusty thighs so free
A monument to wasted flesh and stormy heart
But can a monument of stone with its secrets be so free to part?

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 10:02 PM

The pose is stately and regalous, it speaks of older times
When the newness of timorous beasties had simpler rodent minds
Redolent with the wafting scent of gentle breezes
That carried odours from the goat's milk lunchtime cheeses.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:53 PM

This statue will stand through all the ages of man to boldly attest,
That by the hand of a man hath sprung art that is heav'nly blest,
Upon my word, I do declare, it is most glorious to see,
For which many will journey far from their homes to view it in fair Dundee.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:44 PM

Oh! Marvelous! I love the non-sequiter about the cut-down birches. Very McGonagallesque! I like the idea of an eloquent statue too. That says a lot.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:39 PM

It stands in glorious redoubtment, alone together
In warm and cold yet miserable Spring weather,
And pigeons weep loudly from their noble perches
And poets weave paths through piles of cut-down birches.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: freda underhill
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:35 PM

A certain edifice upright
stands erect, for all poor poets to laud
tall, proud, unwavering, for the mind uptight
relieving tension for the cyber bored

This statue is most eloquent in its design,
And I hope will defy all wankers for a very long time;
And I hope strangers from afar with admiration will blush
Before this beautiful statue and its stunning tush.

Fellow-mudcatters, this Statue seems most beautiful to the eye,
Which would cause common folks for such a one to sigh,
And make them feel starry eyed while passing by
In fear of not getting such a beautiful Shatner after they die.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:20 PM

Great, great...that's the spirit! Remember: 4 line stanzas which sort of rhyme. Serious lack of rhythm and meter. Florid and dramatic language, laden with passion, and hopefully leading to something very anticlimactic after a big initial buildup.

Subject: RE: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Peace
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:12 PM

The bards in the deep countryside wayward inns
Are writing with fervor that stirs the winds
That awoke the blowing gales of January,
In that restless and murky poetic river estuary.

(Let's help McGonagall finish his poem.)

Subject: BS: Poetic Statuary
From: Little Hawk
Date: 30 Sep 04 - 09:03 PM

THE BURNS STATUE
(A FRAGMENT)
by William McGonagall

This Statue, I must confess, is magnificent to see,
And I hope will long be appreciated by the people of Dundee;
It has been beautifully made by Sir John Steell,
And I hope the pangs of hunger he will never feel.

This statue is most elegant in its design,
And I hope will defy all weathers for a very long time;
And I hope strangers from afar with admiration will stare
On this beautiful statue of thee, Immortal Bard of Ayr.

Fellow-citizens, this Statue seems most beautiful to the eye,
Which would cause Kings and Queens for such a one to sigh,
And make them feel envious while passing by
In fear of not getting such a beautiful Statue after they die.

************

The only thing that puzzles me about this poem is that McGonagall normally goes on for at least 15 verses when he is this inspired. I gather that this is the only surviving fragment of a larger work that has been, alas, lost to posterity.

It grieves me, I must confess, this poetry to read,
Knowing that it is but a mere partial surviving fragment indeed,
Of what must truly have been, I do declare
A wondrous train of magnificent prose to recite to a lady fair

At which her cheeks would flush with delight like a fresh ripe tomato,
And not with the sallow hue of a common earthy potato
For poetry doth sooth the savage beast and it drives dull care away
As such, it is truly the nobler art most fashioned for the modern day

And thus I do declare with no doubt harboured in my breast
That the reading of good poetry doth ease the heart's painful distress
All widows and orphans and those who are stricken with dread disease
Should reach much fine poetry and thereby find themselves much greater ease

And upon the poets of this land there falls a clear responsibility,
To write, yes write! And write again and what the muse confers most
willingly,
For if 'twere not for inspiring words writ in poetry and prose
What comfort could there be in life, even if one had ample food and clothes?