The poetry of the M9

[scaryink]

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Most speculators of the next digital M, have failed to find their poetic voice within their longing and anticipation. What happened to the art of love poems?

 

While I am no word craftsman, below is a modest attempt at stating my true feelings on this life changing moment. Please post your innermost feelings through prose or poetry and share with the rest of us lovesick M-en-ites.

 

 

Oh M9 Oh 999

 

I wish oh wish on a golden star

that the new M9 is not so far.

With its full figured frame

IR free high iso

It will make me shoot better

it will free my rich soul.

 

I pledge when I buy

this shiny new kit

I will fondle it, cuddle it

Clean the nose oil and spit.

 

I've bought a new stand

placed close to the sill

to view my dark oyster

in its luigi half shell.

 

I've cleared hallowed space

right next to the fire.

Soon I will be King

of the next M-pire.

[erg]

Bravo !

[Guest Bernd Banken]

"Oh Lord won't you buy me a Leica M9

 

my friends shoot with Nikons and Canons as well

 

Oh Lord won't you give me high iso - no noise

 

'cause my M8 has grain like hell"

 

© J. Joplin

 

Bernd

[karl101]

I think all this wild speculation, gossip, poetry, and rumour about the M9 is pointless. We should be concentrating on the specification of the M9.2

 

Karl

[Nicoleica]

I think all this wild speculation, gossip, poetry, and rumour about the M9 is pointless. We should be concentrating on the specification of the M9.2

 

Karl

 

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[earleygallery]

Where's Esther Rantzen when you need her?

[lanetomlane]

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Where's Esther Rantzen when you need her?

 

Luton!

 

Cheers, Tom

 

 

 

Photography by Tom Lane

[jimleicam3]

I think all this wild speculation, gossip, poetry, and rumour about the M9 is pointless. We should be concentrating on the specification of the M9.2

 

Karl

 

M9.2?? What about the M10??

[Jamie Roberts]

Ahem--back to poetry please...

 

Apologies to Ginsberg

 

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by

M-ness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn

looking for some angry fix(er),

angle-viewer hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly

connection to a perfect f1.0 in the machinery of night,

who squinting and green streaked and google-eyed (at high ISOs) sat

up shooting in the supernatural darkness of

cold-water flats floating across the tops of framelines

contemplating jazz, particularly Seal who probably has

the only working M9 in the world..."

 

Hmm. Not as good as Scary's though

[scaryink]

Jamie

 

Wonderful M poetry indeed!

[SJP]

Thanks to Edward Lear

 

There was an Old man with a M8

Who said: "To buy a M9 is my fate".

But while reading this forum

he could find no real quorum

on when to part with his M8.

[Olsen]

Stephen,

 

Ha, ha! Excellent. For once a guy who can his literature. This one from Hamlet might fit:

 

A second camera, let me be a'curs'ed!

Who bought the second, who killed the first?

[wlaidlaw]

With many thanks to Pepsodent.....

 

You will wonder where the magenta went

When you have been an M9 sent

 

Wilson

[Olsen]

With many thanks to Pepsodent.....

 

You will wonder where the magenta went

When you have been an M9 sent

 

Wilson

 

Ha, ha, ha! (tears are falling...)

[Nicoleica]

Assuming that the M9 will not be released until October 25th.

 

 

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall shoot this day, and see DNGs,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his M9,

And say 'This camera I had on Crispian's day.'

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember, with advantages,

What shots he made that day. Then shall our names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words-

Summilux the King, Summicron and Elmar,

WATE and MATE, IR-cut and Battery-

Be in their SD cards freshly rememb'red.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that uses his M9 with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That brought with us his M9 upon Saint Crispin's day.

 

With apologies to Bill Wigglestick.

[Speenth]

WHEN I AM AN OLD MAN I SHALL SEE NO MORE PURPLE

 

Still a red logo that everyone knows, but doesn't help me

Aspire to my pretention of being a seer of great scenes and summer loves

And imaged scandals, and selling them for money or butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And admire lenses in Leica shops that set alarm bells

Ringing like a stick along the public railings,

Yet remind me of the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out with my M9 in the rain

And image flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit (because the camera died in the drizzle).

 

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

 

But still we have Leica cameras that must stay dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have clients to dinner and sell pictures (Canon mostly).

 

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to see purple (despite my M9 with inbuilt IR filtration, anti-ageing (er aliasing), high ISO magnificence and other bits that somehow make the M8 seem very old).

 

With apologies to Jennie Joseph

[scaryink]

OK now we are getting somewhere! This is what the M9 is all about. Anticipation!

[SJP]

I would be surprised if this has ever occured on any other camera forum, anywhere. A weird and wonderful bunch. Maybe we need to publish a book, I am sure Bill feels inclined.

 

One eye one poultry.

[Jamie Roberts]

Oh, one more

 

"Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The aging furrows; for my purpose holds

To shoot behind the sunset, and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that IR will wash us out;

It may be we shall touch the Perfect Moment,

And see the great HCB, whom we knew.

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength which in old days

could focus on earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,--

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and purchase, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, an m9, and not to yield."

 

Ooog. Tennyson would be appalled!

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Hallo,

Look here: Leica M

[Nicoleica]

In Solms did Kubla Khan

A superior digi-cam decree :

Where Lahn, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

Workshops and factories were girdled round :

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an FF-sensor-bearing tree ;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding funny spots of green or red.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !


A savage place ! as holy and enchanted


As e'er beneath a waning M8 was haunted


By woman wailing for her digital-lover !


And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,


As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,


A mighty fountain momently was forced :


Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst


Shutter fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,


Or ISO grain before the sensors fail :


And 'mid these dancing blades at once and ever


It flung up momently the sacred river.


Five miles meandering with a mazy motion


Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,


Then reached the caverns measureless to man,


And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :


And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far


M8 forum members prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Floated midway on the waves ;

Where was heard the mingled measure

From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,

A silvered M9-chrome from Lahn-Dill-Kreis!

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw :

It was a Hessian maid,

And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of M9 plethora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with lenses wide and long,

I would focus that image in air,

That silver chrome ! that battery life twice !

And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !

His flashing led, his floating frame-lines !

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on live-view hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

 

With apologies to S.T. Coleridge