#27 - Impressed by George

Fay Roberts delivers (at last) a précis of Lord Byron’s maiden speech at the House of Lords in defence of the Luddites:

The fresh, young Lord pleads for silence,
claims his constituents framed
for well-intentioned violence;

scorning the wicked reliance
on machines which they’ve defamed,
the fresh, young Lord pleads for silence.

At length he lauds their defiance
with all the fervour for which he’s famed
(and well-intentioned violence).

Others might dismiss this poetic license -
the ones whose greed he’s roundly declaimed -
the fresh, young Lord pleads for silence

while bewailing the march of science,
regretting that society seems chained
to well-intentioned violence.

And yet, without a certain reliance
on presses, his words might never have been saved;
the fresh, young Lord pleads for silence
for well-intentioned violence.

Machine-breakers; image from the James Fell (he of Sweary History fame) article about Luddites

#21 - Little Riots

After three stanzas of 'Beppo' by Lord Byron
(and I reckon it's fair to say HE was riffing off Cowper)

“Poesy! With all thy faults I love thee still!”

I said it at the Fringe whilst I was drunk;

I like a sculpted line that’s born with skill;

I like a witty rhyme that doesn’t clunk;

I like a seasoned poet, sharp and chill;

I like an open-miker, full of spunk;

I like when, shameless and majestic,

Iambic feet come out all anapaestic;

I like the rappers with their pristine hats;

I like the students with their odes to cats;

I like dead writers, perfect on the page;

I like the live ones, thrilling on the stage;

I like the freaks, the geeks, the swots, the nerds;

I like the kids who just have fun with words.

AWB