By CD Richards
There's eighteen score and five more days
until the year is done;
but each would be an empty page
without my "number one".
How many years have passed since we
met up for the first time?
Together, we have never found
a mountain we can't climb.
Your path may not be quite the one
at first you had in mind;
I hope you feel the way I do—
the road's not been unkind.
And in life's travelogue, I note,
the most breathtaking view:
the vista splendid that I see
when standing beside you.
Demonstrative is not my style,
I'm not renowned for flair;
but with these words I've done my best
to show you that I care.
To be my partner is your lot,
so best accept your fate.
Today you are my quaaltagh fair,
my love and my best mate.
Author Notes |
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occured to me today (the first of 2018) it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. So that's my intention, until I run out of steam. I'll try to write one every day, although I may not be able to post every single day.
To kick it off, Jones has chosen a very appropriate first offering: Quaaltagh (n.) The first person you meet on New Year's Day. Thought to influence your fortunes for the year. Pronounced "quoll-tukh" with a raspy ending, similar to the "gh" sound at the end of "loch". The roots lie in the Celtic Isle of Man language, Manx. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If we could take stock and turn back the clock
on decisions we've long since regretted,
no need then to curse, just switch to reverse,
and our joy could quite well be unfettered.
Imagine if news gave well-informed views--
pointless tweets were no longer the topic.
The odds are, my friend, that at the day's end
we'd be feeling quite eucatastrophic.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
eucatastrophe (n.) a sudden and unexpected fortuitous event. Coined in 1944 by J.R.R. Tolkien. I've elected to use the adjectival form here. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Miss Wainwright was speechless,
embarrassment ceaseless,
little Johnny had found the lass lacking.
She isn't omniscient,
her vocab's deficient,
and young Wendy was almost sent packing.
For John had a book which
helped make him quite word-rich,
now his language is vast and impressive.
This young upstart creature
had challenged the teacher
in a fashion that was quite aggressive.
Said Johnny to Wendy,
"Since teacher's so trendy,
she'll know ev'ry single word I do."
Though it's wrong to tempt fate
Wendy snapped up the bait,
never knowing quite what she'd got into.
Johnny laid the word down,
Wendy started to frown—
her confusion soon made the class goggle:
"A switch has a toggle,
each boy scout a woggle...
what the Dickens 'n all's a spike-boggle?"
And today in that school
there is one golden rule,
and to break it can just make the flesh crawl:
if a child wants to test,
best you give it a rest—
for it might be the cause of your downfall!
Author Notes |
Today's word:
spike-boggle (v.) to sabotage, ruin, or render ineffective. A term first used during WWI to describe the practice of destroying enemy aircraft or equipment. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A pot of pious prattle
simmers slowly on the stove,
and no one questions
where the hunger ends,
as the patriotic pillars
of a nation under God
concoct their latest
tax avoidance scheme.
Pugilistic packs of peers,
each louder than the next,
shake spears and rattle sabres
at those on the other shore;
for when tribalism rules,
the unity of man
is nothing but
anachronistic tripe.
Pontitectural pursuits?
A waste of precious time—
there's news to fake,
and rumours to deny.
Subversive sorts suggest to us
that bridges should be built,
when we all know that
they are made to burn.
Walls don't really fence us in
they keep the "others" out;
you've no place here
if you can't be like us.
Compromise, consensus?
These are Satan's tools—
I'll shout you down and
turn your name to mud.
If we can't learn to get along,
it matters not to me;
contented in the
knowledge that I'm right;
and when the skies begin to rain
Fire and Fury down,
I'll proudly shout "I've won!"
as I kiss my ass goodbye.
Author Notes |
I seldom venture into writing free verse - this sample probably demonstrates why. But hey, I've 365 of these things to produce if I keep going all year, so why not throw everything into the mix?
Today's word: pontitecture (n.) the building of bridges. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Twenty years of wedded bliss
deserves a special treat.
I'll fix his fav'rite meal tonight—
the one he loves to eat.
So in the kitchen Jan did toil,
'til sweat dripped from her face.
With love, assembling something grand,
each item in its place.
Anticipation filled her heart
as both of them sat down.
Her joy became confusion when
she noticed Patrick's frown.
"Without a doubt, upon this plate,
there's meat and veg' enough;
however, dear, I think you'll find
the steak is rather tough."
"As for the peas, they're nice and green,
now please dear, don't you cry—
there's nothing really major wrong,
they're just a little dry."
To hold back tears when spirit's crushed
is not an easy task;
Jeanette did tolerably well
to keep her heartbreak masked.
In silence, plates were gathered up
and taken from the room;
but in the kitchen Jan began
to fester and to fume.
When frying pan meets fragile skull,
there's not a lot of fuss,
just a fearful, knockout blow—
a recumbentibus!
As Patrick lay upon the bed,
his Jan was by his side.
He saw between the tubes and cast,
her smile was broad and wide.
"Feeling any better, dear?"
Jeanette's concern was clear;
but Patrick was a little dull—
a true numbskull, I fear.
"Food in this hospital is mush,
I've had enough of it.
It looks a lot like mouldy slime,
and really tastes like... mud."
"A home-cooked roast would do the trick,
and that's just what I need—
how about you bring me in
a good and proper feed?"
The moral to this little tale...
know when you should not speak.
For all who may be mourning Pat,
the funeral's next week.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
recumbentibus (n.) a powerful or knockout blow. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Take a translunary trek to a place
that's eons in time and light-years in space
from all that we know, and all we avow
and all that we like to call "here and now".
Look at the vastness of all that exists—
intricate structures of which it consists;
time inconceivable for it to form,
patterns astounding, though chaos is norm.
Consider why life is as it appears,
how it has changed over billions of years.
Adapting, evolving, so it survives;
more species are gone than now are alive.
How vain are we humans when we assume
that this little orb cannot be our tomb?
We plunder, ravage and kill all that moves,
imagining someone "out there" approves.
In prideful arrogance we make a fuss,
thinking the cosmos is all about us.
Yet we are but dust, and numbered our days;
humanity— just a transient phase.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
translunary (adj.) beyond the moon. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Fantasize
Sheep-eyes
Claim prize
Compromise
Last goodbyes
Author Notes |
Today's word:
sheep's-eye (v.) to look amorously at someone. P.S. It's humour, just joking! P.P.S. If one person is said to sheep's-eye another, then I claim collectively they are exhibiting sheep-eyes. If you don't agree, I'll see you in court! P.P.P.S STILL joking. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The elephant said, "I'll come clean...
I once had a fling as a teen.
The mermaid was flirty,
we got down and dirty,
and the offspring was quite manatine."
Author Notes |
Today's word:
manatine (adj.) resembling a manatee. Christopher Columbus is said to have mistaken three manatees sunning on a rock for mermaids. Not sure how anyone could make that mistake! The 3 species of manatee, along with the dugong, comprise the order Sirenia - guess where that came from! The closest living relative to these creatures is the elephant. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The sun relentlessly beats down on fields
of barren soil where life has ceased to be.
The dehydrated crops give up the ghost,
defeated by the climbing mercury.
As weaker stock succumb to summer's heat,
yet others languish by the bone-dry creek.
The heat-haze shimmers o'er denuded ground,
and farmers sum it up: "prognosis bleak."
When darkness falls, a miracle occurs,
fat drops of rain descend from up on high.
The animals and men rejoice as one,
as Hughie sends her down from pregnant sky.
Fresh shoots erupt as sodden ground gives birth,
a precious love-libel from Mother Earth.
Author Notes |
I intended to write this as a sonnet, but as the words came out I wanted it to be in the rhyme scheme abxb - which is typical for ballads. The only sonnet forms I know - Italian and Elizabethan don't use this rhyme pattern. Does anyone know a sonnet form which does? I'd love to be able to put a name to it. If not, I guess I've just invented the ballad sonnet lol.
Today's word: love-libel (n.) a love letter. "Send her down Hughie" is an Australian expression, invoking the rain-God to provide rain in times of drought. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now Henry the Eighth was a cranky old chap,
and at times he could be downright mean.
When he got in a mood, things all turned to crap—
it was not a good time to be queen.
The King loved to live an extravagant life,
each day the economy grew worse;
so to keep funds in check, he turned to his wife;
sadly Anne had no head (for commerce).
When this nasty man died, his heir took the crown;
Elizabeth found the pot lacking.
The clever young queen didn't let the side down,
she found widespread financial backing.
"I've discovered a way," the Monarch declared,
"of balancing this country's cashflow.
If your number's drawn, then my wealth will be shared."
And so was invented the great-go.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
great-go (n.) a national lottery. The first state lottery in English history was drawn outside St. Paul's cathedral in 1569. Elizabeth's father, Henry VIII, had left the country in enormous debt. The Queen decided to sell tickets in a lottery, with great prizes for the winner, to help raise funds to pay off the debt. These lotteries came to be known as great-goes. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It may not be advisable
to play golf in the rain.
To call an Arab arable
might mean one is not sane.
Relations highly breakable?
It's not really a shock.
Are humans less than capable?
That's true, says Mr Spock.
Is Donald certifiable?
A lot would answer "yes".
The next tweet that's detestable
is anybody's guess.
Most problems are resolvable,
though they might be involved.
A riddle that's unriddleable?
A paradox unsolved.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
unriddleable (adj.) unsolvable. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When all the moose and caribou are heads upon a wall
When tigers, bears and lions take their final curtain call
When monkeys and gorillas cease to be through lack of trees
When fishing nets mean dolphins have all drowned beneath our seas
When all the wild horses have been shot to feed our dogs
When ponds poisoned by run-off have got rid of all the frogs
When rhino horn and snake penis are only on our shelves
When humans find the last thing they destroy on Earth's themselves
When poisonous emissions choke all animals and plants...
Will cockroaches become the planet's sole supervivants?
Author Notes |
Punctuation is as it is.
Today's word: supervivant (n.) a survivor. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Proditomaniac built a great wall.
Proditomaniac had a great fall.
One Great Pretender, on his last legs—
let's throw a party, and have scrambled eggs.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
proditomania (n.) the irrational belief that everyone around you is a traitor. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
"Has anyone seen, worn by King or by Queen,
fine raiment that's more alamodic?"
Immensely impressed, the King loved his vest,
his demeanor was fully euphoric.
A young upstart lad turned a good day to bad,
"Your Highness, why've you got no clothes on?"
A feeling of dread, the King's face turned red,
'twas just like the words were in neon.
Before you all bail from this little tale
there's one thing that's really worth noting:
you'd best not be lax, make sure of your facts
before you start preening and gloating.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
alamodic (adj.) extremely fashionable, voguish. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Roll up! Roll up! Prepare to be amazed!
The bottle-conjuror shall weave his spell.
The truth will vanish in a smoky haze.
See heaven, when in front of you is hell.
Health levies rise as populace grows sick,
and companies grow rich as poor are taxed.
Offshoring is a money-saving trick,
so local jobs in thousands can be axed.
Yet Wall Street wizards will your saviours be,
as bankers conjure smiles from gloomy frowns.
Believe us when we say we'll set you free;
the benefits of wealth will trickle down.
A free economy can't work by halves —
please chant this incantation as you starve.
Author Notes |
I've had quite a few comments on the last end-rhyme pair being "off". In Australia, unless you have an expensive private-school education (which clearly, I don't), then "halve" is pronounced "harve" - thus the rhyme works.
Today's word: bottle-conjuror (n) a prankster, a charlatan. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I really wish I had a younger sis,
just one cadette could make my childhood fun.
Someone to share my secrets and my toys;
play games with in the rain and in the sun.
But I was born to be an only child,
my parents found they had to stop at one.
Dad said the Lord above had smashed the mould
the moment that he saw what he had done.
And so, there is no little sis for me;
but luckily I have my Whiskey pup.
We'll run and jump, and she'll be my best friend—
I'll worry about girls when I'm grown up.
Author Notes |
N.B. UK English spelling of "mould" used.
Today's word: cadette (n.) a daughter or younger sister. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
So you love the city— the lights and the crowds;
with cafes and theatres and fine sporting grounds.
Where buses and trains transport millions each day
to offices where they can drink their latte.
The plants in their cubicle prisons are rented,
OH&S will ensure they're unscented.
Huge factories belch as they poison the air
and water, so precious, is used without care.
Where each breath you take is worse than the last—
your lungs fill with toxins which cause you to gasp.
Where all that is done is achieved in a hurry
and brows bear deep creases from all of the worry.
But I cannot stomach a life such as that—
I covet a far different habitat.
While you cherish life a stone's throw from the sea,
the mountains and valleys are calling to me.
Where crystal clear streams wend through rolling green hills
and wildflowers sparkle in crisp winter chills.
Where cockatoo choruses ring from the trees
and Bottlebrush nectar is food for the bees.
Where stars shine like diamonds in stygian skies
and neighbourly helpfulness brings no surprise.
I need to head west now, please don't look askance—
it's time that I started my mauka advance.
Author Notes |
Usually, I make a concerted effort to only use exact end-rhymes (with allowances for regional differences). This time, I've allowed a few near-rhymes (and perhaps not-so-near) to creep in. I don't think it detracts too much, but I'd appreciate comments on whether or not you think it does.
Today's word: mauka (adv.) inland. Heading away from the coast, in the direction of the mountains. According to my source (see below), the Hawaiian language doesn't contain equivalent words for left and right. The only words it does have for direction are mauka (see above), and makai, which means seaward, in the direction of the coast. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The strobe upon the wall is flashing red;
a siren signals status DEFCON 1.
The President is summoned from his bed;
informed the Final Chapter has begun.
"Incoming" reads the glowing LED
as consoles show twelve warheads on the way.
The first will flatten Washington DC;
eleven more will bring down Judgement Day.
The first response will decimate Pyongyang;
Beijing and Moscow soon will both be dust.
"Goodbye Cruel World" — the tune that Pink Floyd sang;
our theme song as we watch the Earth combust.
The raven-messenger has struck again:
"Correction — FALSE ALARM" received in vain.
Author Notes |
Using the Elizabethan sonnet form to discuss nuclear war might seem strange. Then again, what is normal about global destruction?
Thanks for reading. Today's word: raven-messenger (n.) Someone (or something) that turns up too late to be of use. The term raven-messenger comes from the story of Noah's Ark in Genesis 8:6-12. According to the story, when the rain stopped, Noah first sent out a raven which didn't return, before sending a dove which returned with an olive branch, indicating it was safe to disembark. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image: CC BY-SA 4.0 License - Original work available at http://door43.org. |
By CD Richards
You think I'm nervous? That I quake in fear?
Well that's the strangest thing I've heard all year!
I'm not the type to leave my panic showing,
for when the going's tough, the tough get going.
I didn't leave this little task to chance.
These words did not appear by happenstance.
No lack of practice will cause me to wail;
when failing to prepare, prepare to fail!
By now you might be asking "What is this?
Has something in his head gone all amiss?"
And yet, there's little wrong inside my bean;
I mean that which I say, my friend, I mean.
I'm hooked on all this antimetabole.
The whole is not the part, nor part the whole.
So join me in this poem's curtain call—
let's make it all for one and one for all!
Author Notes |
Today's word:
antimetabole (n.) the repetition, in a transposed order, of words or phrases in successive clauses. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A crafty old bear, not from Chisholm,
once plunged the US into schism.
Criticised without end,
found himself a new friend—
it's a fine thing, is Rasputinism.
Author Notes |
Pronunciation note: where I'm from, Chisholm is pronounced "chism".
Today's word: Rasputinism (n.) corrupting influence, especially over a government for political gain. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Now Pedro the Pirate was proudly pugnacious,
so too was his parrot named Sam.
"Swab swiftly, ya scrubbers!" Sam screeched at the sailors;
he really could be quite a ham.
Danny the deckhand was dirty and dangerous,
dastardly deeds were his thing.
Daily delivering death with his Deringer,
Daniel could shoot, but not sing.
Lenny the lookout was lewd and lascivious.
Ladies liked Lenny? Not much!
Lucinda the landlubber loudly lamented
"Len's lusty libido's a crutch."
No one neglected poor Nigel the Nervous—
("Neurotic" was his middle name);
"N-navy on starboard bow," Nigel gave notice,
as closer and closer they came.
Mary the Monarch's most medalled mariner,
Marvin, was muscled and mean;
Approaching the vessel, he pulled along side of her—
"Give up, in the name of the Queen!"
The misfits were mustered, then all of them manacled,
each one felt a huge tinge of sadness.
Thus ended their gig, that fine day on the rig—
manubiary's clearly just madness.
Author Notes |
No particular meter - syllable count per line varies. Reading aloud may help.
Today's word: Manubiary (n.) the act of plundering. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
She skated Swan Lake on the ice
Perhaps she should have thought twice
Her act was the dregs
She had no ice-legs
So her axel was not that precise
Author Notes |
Today's word:
ice-legs (n.) the ability to keep your balance on ice. Image: CC0 license - no attribution required. |
By CD Richards
Your fortress will not save you.
This modern-day Hadrian
creates impediments;
not to protect from what he knows,
but what he knows not.
These edifices,
real or imagined,
serve only to ostracise.
In solitude, you've become
The Village.
When did the land of the free
become the home of the protectionist?
While those who share your borders
travel the silk road,
you languish in a prison
of your own making.
Like Alexander's impenetrable gates,
you seek to keep the monsters out.
Could it be you are keeping them in?
Legend tells us
the oldest city in the world
had walls
constructed over millennia...
brought down
by a ram's horn.
What will be your fate?
What is your vision
transmural?
Author Notes |
Some of the references in the poem may not be familiar to all readers, so I've included brief notes here:
1. Hadrian: The Roman Emperor Hadrian is famous for building a wall which spans the width of England, close to the Scottish border, between AD 122 and AD 128. The purpose was mainly to keep the northern "barbarians" out, though it also served other purposes. 2. The Village: A 2004 film about a village whose inhabitants live in fear of creatures inhabiting the woods beyond it referred to as "Those We Don't Speak Of." 3. Silk Road: a network of trade routes which linked the regions of the ancient world in commerce. "Those who share your borders" refers to Canada and Mexico. 4. Alexander's Gates: Alexander the Great purportedly chased his foreign enemies through a mountain pass in the Caucasia region and then enclosed them behind impenetrable iron gates. 5. The oldest city in the world: Jericho, which according to the Old Testament, was defeated by Joshua and his people shouting and blowing rams' horns. Following this, the Israelites slaughtered every man, woman and child in the city, except for one woman (a prostitute), and her family. Jericho is one of several cities which lay claim to being the oldest, but it is known to date back to 9000 BC, which according to some, is older than creation. The original wall was built only a few hundred years after the city. The wall referred to in the Battle of Jericho (1500 BC) was a newer construction. The inspiration for this poem is the news that yesterday, the revamped Trans-Pacific Trade deal which was a key policy under the Obama administration, and dumped by Trump in his first days in office, has been finalised - without US participation. The eleven countries expected to sign the agreement in March are Australia, Brunei, Canada, Chile, Japan, Malaysia, Mexico, New Zealand, Peru, Singapore and Vietnam. This serves to remind that the "walls" being erected by the 45th President of the United States are not only physical ones. Today's word: transmural (n.) beyond the wall. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: syne (adv.) since.
The Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote the song Auld Lang Syne in 1788. The phrase roughly translates to "times gone by". Image: public domain. |
By CD Richards
No parchments handed down by pious monks
can solve for us the greatest grif of all.
Stone tablets carried round in wooden trunks?
Pay heed, and you might just become a thrall.
The scientist can answer "how", not "why";
philosophers are often tortured folk.
Real answers don't drop down from up on high;
New Ageism is something of a joke.
Forgive me, if a truism I spout;
a paradox that wise folk know is true—
although we think we've got it all worked out,
the more we think we know, the less we do.
Enlightenment will come when we can see
the answer to the riddle, "Why are we?"
Author Notes |
"The unexamined life is not worth living" - Socrates
Image: The Death of Socrates (Jacques-Louis David, 1787). Today's word: grif (n.) a puzzle or brain-teaser. Other words of interest: thrall: (n.) a person who is morally or mentally enslaved by some power. truism: (n.) A self-evident, obvious truth. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now poor Lewis Carroll was over a barrel,
his publisher, brimming with malice,
said "You must write more, or we'll show you the door—
we can't get enough of young Alice!"
In language well versed, he muttered and cursed,
"This bleeping demand is outrageous.
The publisher's mad, my contract is bad,
and not the least bit advantageous!"
"With no super powers, it comes down to hours—
I find myself constantly lacking;
each day's twenty-four, not a single one more.
It's hardly as if I am slacking!"
All done with lamenting, Lew took to inventing—
he really was quite innovative.
He sketched and designed, adapted, refined—
"I'll make those fools appreciative!"
And when he was done, Lew shouted "I've won!
I'll show all those chumps, cruel and callous—
I can now work at night, so I'll write and I'll write
'til they've all had a gutful of Alice!"
And so ends this tale. We see Lewis prevail—
just look at the fortune he's makin'!
A most clever writer, whose future got brighter,
and his nyctograph helped save his bacon.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
nyctograph (n.) a device for writing at night. From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyctography: Nyctography is a form of substitution cipher writing created by Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) in 1891. Nyctography is written with a nyctograph (also invented by Carroll) and uses a system of dots and/or strokes all based on a dot placed in the upper left corner. Using the Nyctograph, one could quickly jot down ideas or notes without the aid of light. Carroll invented the Nyctograph and Nyctography because he was often awakened during the night with thoughts that needed to be written down immediately, and didn't want to go through the lengthy process of lighting a lamp just to have to extinguish it shortly thereafter. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Don't insult me with a fandangle;
just stop now, and let us not wrangle.
Your words are a kickshaw,
desist! Use them no more,
you show-off -- just what is your angle?
Commit not a mulctable trespass,
you really just come off a dumb-ass;
a mooncalf rapscallion,
there ain't no medallion
for blowhards pretending they're high-class!
Author Notes |
Today's word:
mulctable (adj.) Punishable. Deserving of a fine or penalty. For those who just want a quick summary of this offering without diving for the dictionary, it basically says don't use archaic or arcane language to impress. Such devices should be severely frowned upon ;-) For those who do want some explanation, the following definitions of arcane or archaic words might be helpful: blowhard: boastful person. fandangle: useless but elaborate ornament. kickshaw: something showy but without value. mooncalf: a foolish person. rapscallion: a rascal, rogue or scamp. trespass: sin. and one more, which is neither arcane nor archaic, but might help with interpretation... irony: a literary technique, originally used in Greek tragedy, by which the full significance of a character's words or actions is clear to the audience or reader although unknown to the character. P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If in doubt, check the category information at the top. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
The tale of zalabiya's trippy;
without it, there's no Mr Whippy.
There's nought like ice cream
to makes our eyes gleam.
It's great whether frozen or drippy.
Author Notes |
Let's see who I can offend with this one...
Today's word: zalabiya (n.) an ancient Persian dessert of fried and sweetened batter. The earliest recipe for zalabiya appears in a tenth century cookbook from Baghdad. From there, it traveled across the middle east, Africa and Asia. In 1904, at the St Louis World's Fair, two brothers were running an ice cream stand, and ran out of serving bowls. A few stands away, a Syrian chef was selling zalabiya, and began rolling his wafers into cones for a single dollop of ice cream. Thus was born the ice cream cone. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Hateful is the endless lust for power
England feels the pain of civil war
Acephalous are both the King and land
Did Cromwell's actions uphold divine law?
Lord Protector also had it tough
Executed him posthumously
Severed head displayed upon a pole
Silly buggar should have just let be
Author Notes |
Today's word:
acephalous (a.) literally, headless. Used to refer to a state with no leader. After losing the English Civil War to Oliver Cromwell, King Charles I was tried for High Treason. He was convicted, and executed in January 1649. After this, England became a republic for a decade or so, before the monarchy was restored and control handed to Charles' son, Charles II. Oliver Cromwell died of natural causes in 1658, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. When the royalists returned to power in 1660, his corpse was exhumed, hung up in chains, and beheaded. His head was displayed on a pole outside Westminster Hall until 1685. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
His Highness, Prince Floyd, a little annoyed,
said, "You were improperly brought up!
You'll find, my dear friend (now, on this depend),
the phrase is a storm in a teacup!"
So hog-wrangler Hank, as straight as a plank,
while filling his shotgun with buckshot,
said, "You've got it wrong, you'd best git along,
I swear it's tempest in a teapot!"
For hours they debated, the angst escalated,
The scuffle was vicious and frantic.
By quarter to four, they'd both declared war,
come seven, it spanned the Atlantic.
In terms of the cost, in lives that were lost,
some say that it numbered in millions;
but the true tragedy of this foul enmity-
almost half of the dead were civilians.
Let's learn from this tale, let good sense prevail,
before any battlefront widens.
Avoid mounting deaths, abide shibboleths,
put an end to brewing euroclydons.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
euroclydon (n.) a huge storm. "But not long after there arose against it a tempestuous wind, called Euroclydon." -Acts of the Apostles 27:14 Today's word means "storm". While mulling over possible approaches to presenting this in a poem, the phrase "storm in a teacup" crossed my mind. It occurred to me then that I cannot think of any better example of irony than an argument over the particular choice of wording in this analogy. The first known phrase with this meaning was created by Cicero around 52BC... "Exitabat fluctus in simpulo", or "stirring up billows in a ladle". Interestingly (since this is often viewed as an English vs American debate), both of the phrases referred to in the poem are believed to have originated in Scotland, in the early 19th century. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thank you for reading. |
By CD Richards
Do you recall when we set off
so many years ago?
How at the outset,
there was no thought
of destination?
Back then, the journey
was the reward.
Then one day,
on those heaving seas,
the fog rolled in,
and our vessels drifted apart.
And when the mist cleared
and once again we met,
the game had changed.
You realised, or so you said,
that you could no longer be
the captain of your own ship.
And now, you were sailing
to a different port;
one I would never see.
You'd found the charts
and the instruments to guide you,
to a land no living man
has ever visited and returned.
And what of me?
According to you,
I'm Robinson Crusoe;
my ship, rudderless,
tossed about
on the ocean of indifference.
With no anchor
to hold me firm,
I drift upon the wind of change.
My moral compass missing,
I spin out of control
onto the rocks of despair
...or so you think.
But my charts
are those I've plotted
as I navigate the straits of life.
My senses are my instruments,
and reason my anchor.
And though at times
I've had my doubts,
they haven't steered me wrong,
for long.
They've led me to lands
on which
you will never set foot;
and to sweet fruits
you shall never taste,
or in doing so, will find bitter.
I'm no naufrague,
no Gilligan,
although I've had
my share of coconuts,
and ginger.
Let your Prospero
do his worst, I don't fear
his insubstantial pageant.
So continue on your journey
to the land you hope will be;
while my little life
ends with sleep.
And no matter whether
tempests rage,
or my vessel's becalmed—
I'll enjoy the journey.
Author Notes |
I have taken a few words, and a lot of enjoyment, from Prospero's speech in The Tempest, Act IV, Scene I - which, along with the Epilogue from the same play are my two favourite snippets of the Bard's work.
The speech in full (almost) is as follows: You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort, As if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors (As I foretold you) were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air, And like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And like this insubstantial pageant faded Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. Today's word: naufrague (n.) a shipwrecked person, a castaway. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I've twankled in the sitting room.
I've twankled on my bed.
I've twankled morning, noon and night,
until I lost my head.
I've twankled in the garden,
while strolling down the path.
I've twankled while my aunty watched,
but never in the bath.
When life is mean, and I feel sad,
or lonely, hurt, or blue;
I'll grab my ukulele and
I'll twankle beside you.
I've found the key to happiness,
it's this, no word of lie—
twankling's fun, so go buy one,
and twankle 'til you die!
Author Notes |
I have twankled in public on a number of occasions now, and have yet to be arrested. Mostly, my twankling has been applauded, though only as part of a group effort. I haven't yet been game to twankle solo in front of a crowd.
Today's word: twankle (v.) to play idly on a musical instrument. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes | luition (n.) payment of a ransom. |
By CD Richards
I need to make a small request,
addressed to one and all;
regarding something which I find
drives me quite up the wall.
I'm sorry if you find this wish
offensive or pedantic;
but it concerns a habit which
quite frankly, drives me frantic.
When thinking for yourself, or if
dispensing sage advice,
say what you mean to say, and let
your language be precise.
When landing in a plane, who wants
to hear the pilot say,
"We're not quite on the runway, but
it isn't far away"?
While treating my thrombosis, if
the surgeon missed the clot,
I'd hate to hear the scoundrel say
"I almost got the lot".
If fuzzy logic is your thing,
take it from one who knows
that thinking which is indistinct
may lead to your repose;
I mean of the eternal sort,
within a pearly gate;
for Heaven is chock full of those
who got it right too late.
Be accurate in what you think,
in all you do and say;
for danger lurks when we employ
the concept 'propinque'.
Author Notes |
Image: By Eastdept (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Lotfi Zadeh is known as "the father of fuzzy logic". I had the great pleasure of meeting him when I was a student of AI at university. He came across as an incredibly caring and thoughtful man. Highly intelligent goes without saying. He died last year at age 96. Today's word: propinque: approximate, approaching accuracy. Note: after my initial version of this poem, I learned the correct pronunciation is "pro-pin-kway" (many thanks to frierajac). This resulted in a modification of the last stanza to maintain the rhyme! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Although losing isn't a sin,
we're all of us trying to win.
When playing at Scrabble,
if a word looks like babble,
we look it up in our calepin.
Author Notes |
This is a catch-up for a missed day. Can you tell?
Today's word: calepin (n.) a dictionary, a book of authority or reference. Pronounced kale-pin. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
I don't recall trying one of these (a nonet) before... first time for everything.
Even the rich will be suffering today. Some of them will have lost billions, poor things. I wonder if a certain someone will be as quick to claim responsibility for the collapse as they were for the growth? Of course, the ones who will really suffer are the workers, with their mortgages, and their vanishing superannuation. As always. Today's word: dyvoury (n.) bankruptcy, financial ruin. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Turtles suffocate on plastic bags
Arctic shelf melts into ocean blue
Ponds and streams destroyed by acid rain
Land destruction - farming's gift to you
Earth is dying from our cruel neglect
Yes, we see the writing on the wall
Ignorance, a manufactured lie
Smugly thinking we can never fall
Man takes one last bow and waves goodbye
Author Notes |
Today's word:
Tapleyism (n.) extreme optimism, even in the face of desperate circumstances. Several of Charles Dickens' characters have made it into the English dictionary. Mark Tapley is one such character. The word comes from his undying optimism in the most appalling circumstances. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Behold! Your creation - a vile conflagration,
destroying, devouring chattels.
Years of vexation, devoid of causation—
insatiable craving for battles.
With lies you enchanted—false mem'ries implanted;
the flames of betrayal burned brightly.
When taken for granted, then being supplanted,
who wouldn't cry foul, and quite rightly?
Your serpentine tongue made quite sure that you won;
in fairness, you met no resistance.
Deception outdone by none under the sun;
hats off to your dogged persistence.
When it comes to guile, you win by a mile,
there's no one more nimble than you.
Your heart's full of bile, subversion's your style,
your victims have nary a clue.
Though you're not so nice, I'll share some advice—
it just might well be your salvation;
your blood is like ice, but you'll pay the price
if you don't halt this cruel aggravation.
So why not impart some warmth to that heart
that's frozen through to its foundation?
Time for a new start, let the blizzard depart—
begin working on its degelation.
Author Notes |
Image: Eva Rinaldi [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Today's word: degelation (n.) the process of thawing. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It's a secret, but I swear it's true,
my daddy played drums for The Who.
With Pete, Rog' and John
he got his groove on;
have you heard them all play "Who Are You"?
You should know, though we've only just met,
I'm Amanda, although, better yet—
why not call me Mandy?
I think that's just dandy,
but I beg you, don't call me Lunette!
Author Notes |
Today's word: lunette (n.) a little moon.
The joke: The Who's original drummer, Keith Moon, who tragically died in 1978, has one child (now an adult over 50), whose name is Amanda or Mandy. She probably wouldn't appreciate being called "Lunette", because she is (or, was), literally, a little Moon. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image identified as public domain, and sourced from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/panamerican09/27570026064 |
By CD Richards
From high above the earth, it gazes far;
across the cosmos, into reaches vast,
revealing truths of who and where we are,
unlocking new found secrets of the past.
The telescope helps put us in our place
as insects on the universal stage.
Some creatures that we call the human race
are but a smudge on time's eternal page.
But what if by an oddball quirk of fate
some space junk hit the instrument, and then
its gaze was turned back on our planet great,
to view the antics of this mob of men?
Would it lament what's going on below—
this pointless, angry, futile hubbleshow?
Author Notes |
Today's word: hubbleshow (n.) a noisy uproar, a riot.
Upon seeing the word of the day, I immediately knew, whatever theme the poem might take, the "eye in the sky" had to be part of the story. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There's someone here of whom I'd say
all is not as it seems.
You should be careful knowing them,
lest they destroy your dreams.
Their actions, well I think we know
what they are all about.
So do take care, and watch your step
and keep a close look-out.
Just who is this I speak about?
I think the answer's clear;
if you have any shade of doubt,
I'll say they're very near.
They are the kind of folk it's best
to shun and to avoid;
and don't imagine these remarks
might mean I'm paranoid!
Let's make it clear and bring this to
its ultimate crescendo—
'cause don't you just detest all this
insane insinuendo?
Author Notes |
Today's word: insinuendo (n.) Insinuated remark.
Insinuendo (combination of insinuation and innuendo) is one of many examples of portmanteau words in the English language. More commonly known examples include brunch, motel, prequel and infomercial. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I see a species standing at the brink,
that's claimed the crown, 'the kings of planet Earth';
we've subjugated nature (so we think)—
an outlook I can't help but view with mirth.
Destroying habitats to form backyards,
we pride ourselves on clever use of tools;
and build evanid houses out of cards,
but nature recognises us as fools.
For just as Jack discovered at the well,
our best laid plans can soon come tumbling down.
An eye-blink and it all can turn to Hell;
mankind will one day lose his thorny crown.
In economics we can find a clue,
from something called 'reversion to the mean';
all abberrations are a fleeting skew—
things must return to how they've always been.
We humans are anomalies, I fear;
an error nature never meant to be.
It seems we just don't really fit in here;
our misfit standing's our celebrity.
Insects may rule the world in years to come,
long after people's rule on Earth declines.
Perhaps they will observe man's total sum—
our card-deck houses, buried under vines.
Author Notes |
Today's word: evanid (adj.) short-lived, transitory, soon to be dissolved.
P.S. I've taken a sneak peek at the words for the next couple of days. The tone should be considerably brighter - promise! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There was a young man from Gairlochy,
who owned a guest house called "Ardochy".
Quite needless to say,
he was, in his way,
an advocate of xenodochy.
Author Notes |
Today's word: xenodochy (n.) showing hospitality to strangers.
Gairlochy: A hamlet on the southern shores of Loch Lochy in the district of Lochaber, Scotland. Ardochy: The name of a real guest house in Glengarry, Inverness-shire Scotland. Internet examples of pronunciation of the "ochy" sound are contradictory and inconclusive. Who'd have thought? I believe all three of the words rhyme with "cocky", not "botchy", although a proper Scottish speaker would say them with a raspy sound at the back of the throat. If I'm wrong about that, I would be happy for anyone with knowledge of the Scottish accent to correct me. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Johannes49~enwiki at English Wikipedia [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
No more excuses, stop this insanity
Reject corrumper's self-promoting lies
America, stop killing your children
Author Notes |
Today's word: corrumper (n.) a corruptor, a destroyer.
It's time. Prayers and healing thoughts are useless against bullets. |
By CD Richards
The faithful to the clarion call respond;
with voices raised, they loose their proud escry.
Above the tumult, voices ring as one—
"Fake news, sheeples, you've all been sold a lie!"
And suddenly the veil lifts from my eyes,
I see the glaring truth for the first time;
that things I thought were done were really not,
and even if they were, it's not a crime.
Seems nepotism isn't bad at all,
and facts are only facts when they are mine.
The poor will gain from handouts to the rich,
(and next, we'll conjure water into wine).
All hail this new and messianic King,
that preaches hate to an adoring flock;
an isolationist, he builds a fort,
a fortress sound and sturdy on the rock.
But sandstone's not a proper base on which
to raise a structure guaranteed to last;
the binders are so quickly washed away,
and shifting sand leaves onlookers aghast.
As cliff gives way, the bulwark tumbles down.
The flock are tossed into the angry sea;
and as the faithful wonder what went wrong,
the King runs 'round in panicked covfefe.
Then just like ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome,
a proud and mighty people bite the dust;
too late, they understand where they went wrong—
like Troy, their problem lies in misplaced trust.
Author Notes |
Today's word: escry (n.) a battle cry.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Why'd you do it, Stormy—
why'd you bed that oafish clown?
Were you really that hard up,
or your performance fees way down?
Were you really after infamy,
no matter what the cost?
Are dignity and self-respect
the only things you've lost?
"I'm so ashamed of what I've done,"
remorsefully she cried;
"The awful truth is that I was
quite vinomadefied!"
Author Notes |
This is a poem about a high-profile politician of tangerine appearance, who shall remain nameless. His lawyer claims to have paid, on his behalf, the sum of $130,000 to a porn actress to keep quiet about an "alleged" affair many years ago.
When asked how they could possibly have committed such a despicable act with someone completely devoid of moral character, and a total blight on society, the porn actress simply responded "I was drunk". Today's word: vinomadefied (adj.) utterly soaked in wine. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Assorted mouldy items in the 'fridge,
Not returning calls for many days,
A condom wrapper in the rubbish bin,
Perhaps it won't be likely that she stays.
Hairballs clogging up the bath drain pipe,
Rubbish strewn for metres down the hall,
Odours she describes as "really ripe",
Don't make your chances look that good at all.
Egg stains on the couch (we hope it's egg!),
Something slimy crawling in the sink,
Insect droppings lying on the sheets,
Are not conducive to romance, we think.
Can't be much fun to date the missing link!
Author Notes |
Today's word:
anaphrodesiac (n.) anything that diminishes sexual appetite. I did this as an acrostic mainly for one reason. I found it virtually impossible to include the word in the body of the poem, and distinguish between anaphrodesiac and an aphrodesiac; which are, of course exact opposites. Also, please note - British spellings (mouldy, odour) are by choice. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Perfection's something we don't often find
In awe, I fell quite underneath your spell
Gone were all thoughts of freedom from my mind
No sign of sense, which once had served me well
Our paths but crossed and straight away I knew
Resigned was I to what would be my fate
A lifetime bond must form 'twixt me and you
Today I pledge my heart, concede checkmate
Imagine my surprise to find, alack!
To someone else my lover is betrothed
I tried to find my heart and buy it back
Only to find the store already closed
Unfeigned and urgent is my anguished plea
Show pity, love, and send it back to me
Author Notes |
Today's word:
pignoratitious (adj.) pawned or pledged. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A near-sighted burglar named Klaus
Unluckily robbed his own house
Took all that he had
Oh boy, was he mad
But Klaus was a bit of a louse
Understandably...
Reluctance to well use his time
Got Klaus in a whole lot of lime
Locked up in his cell
And lonely as hell
Regretting his "victimless crime"
Author Notes |
Today's word:
auto-burgler (n.) a burglar who burgles their own home. WTF? Are you serious? Well, I can't pick and choose, so today's word is what it is. If you have any complaints, send them to Elliott & Thompson, Publishers. Inspired by the winter olympics, I decided to bring you this acrostic double limerick with a twist. * lime = poop. My once much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Boy was I wrong! P.S. The original ending was different. I changed it to avoid offending those who might have taken offence. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
In the midst of the night, they made their attack;
their murderous mission saw no turning back.
Relentless, remorseless, in raid after raid,
their victims lay helpless, with life-blood they paid.
This brazen assault, under darkness was cloaked,
the carnage ensuing was never provoked.
But then the tide turned, the invaders were stunned;
imagine their shock to find they were outgunned!
This cruel camisado was instantly ended
when the wrath of the victims upon them descended.
The marauding mosquitoes met a fate unforeseen
as I finished them off with a blast of Mortein.
Author Notes |
AABBCC rhyme, no fixed meter.
Today's word: camisado (n.) a surprise invasion or attack carried out at night. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Hidden secrets ne'er to be revealed
Enclosed within these pages, tightly sealed
Memoirs countless of my loves and life
Each precious moment, struggle, joy and strife
Rejection, conquest, things achieved and fame
Omitting nought, for I've no sense of shame
Lay it out there so the world can see?
Oh no, my friend, these things are just for me
Got to record these random thoughts of mine
Yes, they are precious, though I'm only nine
Author Notes |
Today's word:
hemerology (n.) a diary. I have never, much to my regret, owned or kept a diary. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
"You must write more," a friend said, being kind.
Regrettably, I think she's lost her mind.
These days, my brain's not sharp; or half as limber
as it once was, I need an undecimber.
Just one more month, I'm sure it would be ample;
though if this effort constitutes a sample,
I might need more— like two, or three, or four...
to come up with a passable example.
Author Notes |
Rhyme - there is some. Meter - iambic pentameter, with some feminine whatsits. Yeah, that sounds good, go with that ;-)
I wasn't sure whether I should categorize this as "humour" or "commentary". The latter is probably more accurate, but I didn't want to put anyone off before they even read it. Today's word: undecimber (n.) an extra month added to a calendar. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I've something quite important to relate.
Please listen closely, ere you should berate
me for this most important piece of news;
which might well cause a shifting of your views.
Now some have tried in times gone by to claim
that concepts like these here all sound the same.
But please, I beg, don't fall into their snare—
these words are true, of false counsel beware.
Do not be taken in by empty lies,
or fail to see past treacherous disguise;
for then, you'll bring to mind these words I've said,
and wish you'd heeded this advice instead.
Did Kennedy launch man toward the moon?
Was Disney master craftsman of cartoon?
Did Lincoln understand what's meant by "free"?
Was peace enhanced by India's Gandhi?
Now, lest you may not fully understand,
this verse has been meticulously planned;
so that, while saying nothing, it excels
at wasting time, to make you cry "Hell's bells!"
When of this day you speak to those you love,
recall the things which I have said above;
and tell them of a time when you beheld
a twarvlement that's quite unparalleled.
Author Notes |
Today's word: twarvlement (n.) a circuitous, long-winded speech.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Hey, Donald, let me go out on a limb,
and make use of this apt anacronym.
I feel it might describe your policy
on arms, with some degree of clarity.
To turn your teachers into guards is weird,
I think it's down the wrong path you have veered.
And changing ev'ry classroom to a cell
is not something likely to go down well.
To value guns more than you value kids
will really put your nation on the skids.
Please stop at once these actions so bizarre,
before your country's totally fubar.
Author Notes |
Iambic pentameter.
Today's word: anacronym (n.) an acronym, the meaning of which is not well known. The anacronym fubar originated in the US army during WWII. It is an abbreviation of "fouled up beyond all repair", although the word "recognition" is often substituted for "repair", and "fouled" is not the actual word used on the battle field. This, however, is a family site :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
"Why such a big issue?" She reached for a tissue,
her Kleenex all crumpled and soggy;
"You're making my head spin, I need to take Aspirin,
my thinking's all muddled and foggy."
"You think you're a groover, while using the Hoover,"
I shouted back over the Muzak,
"You ain't getting sex, while you're wearing Spandex,"
my response was both quick and on track.
The relationship over, I took the Land Rover,
And headed straight out of the town.
With my throat in a tickle, I grabbed a Popsicle;
while stopped, I was writing this down.
With my trusty blue Biro, by the roadside in Cairo,
I wrote, "If you want to impress 'hims',
then don't be a floozie, or own a Jacuzzi,
or live life full of anepronyms."
Author Notes |
Today's word:
anepronym (n.) A trademark that has since become a generic term. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Within the fourteen lines which form this verse,
you just might find a sneaky trick or two;
the kind that make a person want to curse
and scream, "You fool! Just what is wrong with you?"
For ere this little quatorzain is done,
you'll come across a purclaim quite unreal;
a mountweazel, to make the reading fun,
one which I've tried my hardest to conceal.
But can you do it without checking notes?
I fear the task might be a tad too much.
What if the verse itself's an undervote,
or is that word not ridgy-didge, as such?
Please leave me a review before you go—
so, could you find it? Tell me yes or no.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
mountweazel (n.) a fictitious entry added to a book to prevent plagiarism. The mountweazel (also known as nihilartikel, or 'nothing article'), is named after an Ohio-born fountain designer and photographer named Lillian Virginia Mountweazel. She is famous for her renowned photographs of rural American letterboxes, and tragically died in an explosion while on assignment for Combustibles magazine. But why is the word named after her, in particular? Because she never existed! She was completely made up by the New Columbia Encyclopedia, and listed in their 1975 edition. In spite of that, she even has her own web site. So the idea is I've planted a few odd words in the poem, but only one of them is not a real word. Can you pick it? My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, Don Cacafuego is surly and mean;
the baddest bad hombre the world's ever seen.
He runs a tight ship, and it's Christian, what's more;
he packs up those Muslims and shows them the door.
So don't get all cocky, start runnin' your mouth
'bout all those poor beggars that came from the south
and pinched all the jobs, for two-fifty an hour—
they're gone, just as soon as they've built him a tower.
And if you get threatened while you are in school,
just holler for Donald, he's nobody's fool.
He'll hold off those gunmen, he'll pummel the lot;
just scream, he'll come runnin' in, packin' or not.
The women all swoon when The Don is around,
'cause just like he tells it, his charms know no bounds.
He might call them dogs and make jokes that are crass,
but Don always knows where to get him some ass.
So on with the voyage, haul anchor, we're off;
and pay no attention to those who must scoff.
We're destined for Dream World, where there's not a care,
and Don Cacafuego will lead us all there.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cacafuego (n.) a blustering braggart.
There's only one subject this poem could have been about, given the word of the day. Those with a smattering of Spanish will probably recognise that cacafuego literally means "fire-shitter". Sorry, but that's a fact. The story behind this word is longer than I want to relate here, but it goes way back to an encounter between Sir Francis Drake and a Spanish galleon, the Nuestra Senora. Hence the nautical theme at the beginning and end of this poem. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
succubus: a female demon believed to have sexual intercourse with sleeping men. maledict: the victim of a curse. N.B. Pure fiction. Any resemblance to relationships past or past is purely coincidental. Image: CC0 licence - no attribution required. |
By CD Richards
Let this, our home, a peaceful haven be;
Inviting and inciting amity.
May happiness and joy remain the norm;
Each day, providing shelter from the storm.
Regrets and bitterness will have no place,
Each of life's challenges shall we embrace.
No span of time can lessen our resolve;
Chimerical, the problems we can't solve.
Exuding limerence, let love evolve.
Author Notes |
amity: friendship, harmony.
chimerical: not real. limerence: romantic infatuation, besottedness. Some think of infatuation as a phase that exists early in relationships, which at some point is outgrown. If it is, I think that's a pity. I view worthwhile mature relationships as ones that have added extra elements, not taken any away. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: pantagruelian (adj.) gigantic, comically or grotesquely oversized.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Each letter I receive highlights my fear,
Post-boxes send cold shivers down my spine.
Is news awaiting of events so drear,
Such sadness might destroy this heart of mine?
To contact me it's best to make a call,
Or even drop by for a spot of tea;
Let's sit out on the porch and talk football,
Our verbal contact is what interests me.
Perhaps I should return to long ago,
However ancient seems the written word;
One's cellphone is not all there is, I know,
By trashing mail, my actions are absurd.
I'd better dip my quill into some ink
And get that letter written, don't you think?
Author Notes |
Today's word:
epistolophobia (n.) the fear of receiving correspondence. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A wise man never speaks ten words
when only one will do.
Conciseness is a worthwhile aim,
one which we should pursue.
So those who seek to, through their words,
inspire or embolden,
do well to keep this fact in mind—
breviloquence is golden.
Author Notes |
Today's word: breviloquence (n.) concise, pithy and succinct speech.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When tempests rage, my vessel's tossed on seas
that crash across the bows and threaten to
reduce my transport into driftwood skis—
and Neptune taunts me, "Bid this life adieu."
As rudderless, I head toward the cliffs,
surrounded by sharp rocks on ev'ry side;
my heart's staccato beats play tuneless riffs—
from nature's wrath there is nowhere to hide.
When suddenly, hewn in the rocky wall,
appears a zawn, a large and sheltered cave.
I swim against the forces of the squall,
into the peaceful refuge that I crave.
Arriving safe from harm I slip inside
the comfort and the warmth your arms provide.
Author Notes |
Today's word:
zawn: (n.) a fissure or cave in a coastal cliff. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Black larks are noted for building a ring of cattle or horse dung around their nests. It is believed they do this to prevent being trampled, as animals are reluctant to graze near their own dung.
This is my first attempt at a mondo poem. My understanding of the form is as follows: * It consists of two katuatas - which are three lines of 5-7-7 syllables. * The first katuata is typically a question, and is related to a nature theme. * The second katuata is an answer, usually of a more abstract or philosophical bent than the question. Word of the day: obsidion (n.) a siege; the state of being besieged. * xenophobia is the fear of strangers. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: gobble-pipe (n.) a saxophone.
One of the best known sax solos is Raphael Ravenscroft's contribution on Gerry Rafferty's song Baker Street. He was reportedly paid the princely sum of 27 British pounds for playing it, and the cheque bounced! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image By Roy Anderson (Karel G) [CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Since time first began, we've been ruled by man—
we might rightly ask, "Where has it got us?"
To places insane, through oodles of pain,
and, of course, an insuff'rable POTUS.
But well might we ask, when taken to task,
"Is man a superior being?
Were they born to rule, from a better gene pool,
just because they must stand while they're peeing?"
Now here is the rub, this ain't no boys' club,
it's time more females took their turns;
we need much less brass, and a whole lot more class—
bring on Merkels and Mays and Arderns.
So let's hope and pray, on this Women's Day,
the testosterone club takes a tumble;
and we see faces new, with a fresh point of view,
leading us in a way that's more humble.
To you ladies out there, put your hands in the air;
the men will get over their phobias.
Let's see more smart calls, and a whole lot less balls—
the world needs a lot more Zenobias!
Author Notes |
*Note: Theresa May might seem odd company for Jacinda Ardern and Angela Merkel, and indeed she is. However, I wanted to show that it is desirable to see women from all sides of the political spectrum serving, not just one. Also, I needed a single-syllable name! This poem is not meant to be a ringing endorsement of anyone in particular (though Jacinda is pretty cool).
Zenobia: (n.) a powerful, determined woman. Image: Queen Zenobia's Last Look Upon Palmyra - Herbert Gustave Schmalz (public domain). My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A handsome young poppin named Chucky
thought he was incredibly lucky.
His girlfriend from Hell
was named Annabelle;
to own them was very unlucky.
Author Notes |
Today's word: poppin (n.) a child's doll.
Image: CC0 licence - no attribution required. Because I didn't want to scare small children (ok, I lie - because one wasn't legally available), I haven't included a picture of the real Chucky & Annabelle here. Instead, I have included a family friendly shot which may, or may not, be the eyes of Barbie, who turns 58 today. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It's more a nightmare than a dream;
your actions are rather extreme.
I once thought you cared,
so how have you dared
to break up with me by telepheme?
Author Notes |
Today's word: telepheme (n.) a message delivered by telephone.
Just biding my time until a more inspiring word comes along. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Xenophobic tripe
Yes, InfoWars excels
Zero fact, infinite drivel
Author Notes |
Today's word: XYZ (n.) A hack journalist, someone who will produce anything for cash.
(Yes, according to my book, it's a real word). Time to lose some more reviewers. * Alex Jones is a self-promoting media megaphone, and owner of InfoWars.com, representing all things whacked-out and evil. His YouTube account is currently suspended after he described a survivor of the high school mass murder in South Florida as a "crisis actor". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Beneath a jewel-encrusted sky
the campfire burns, the flames climb high.
With damper and our billy tea
we are at peace, our souls set free.
We're far removed from all the noise,
eschewing electronic toys,
in nature's glory, here we bask;
"Is this the life?" — no need to ask.
We play guitar and sing a song
about how humans got it wrong,
exchanging trees for parking lots,
you know the song — just join the dots.
Do you feel like you've lost the race?
Has present-day's frenetic pace
produced an overwhelming sense
that modern life's just too intense?
If that's the case, then why don't you
pull up a sonrock, grab a pew.
Our church is broad, and by our fire
we welcome all with a desire
for peace and harmony to rule;
no need for guards in this, our school.
Our lessons are not hard to learn—
strike up a match and watch it burn.
Its light, 'tis true, may not last long,
but you, my friend, would be quite wrong
in thinking, even just a whit
that darkness can extinguish it.
With tea consumed and damper gone,
our voices hoarse from too much song;
we douse the flames, and by moonlight
each bids the others a good night.
Then, drifting off, we hear the breeze,
and creatures scuttling through the trees.
Each sound, a new awareness brings,
of our place in the scheme of things.
Our thoughts return to life at home,
but here, in nature's astrodome,
the feeling gripping us is strong—
this is the place where we belong.
Author Notes |
Today's word: sonrock (n.) a fireside seat.
Damper: a traditional Australian bread, historically prepared by swagmen, drovers, stockmen and other travellers. It consists of a wheat flour based bread, traditionally baked in the coals of a campfire or in a camp oven. Billy tea: A billycan is a lightweight cooking pot in the form of a metal bucket commonly used for boiling water, making tea or cooking over a campfire. A video which I feel mirrors the experience spoken of here: And a song referred to in the poem: My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Exotic dancers on the Paris stage
Cause interest, but there is no outrage
Dispensing, tauntingly, with all their gear
Yells of "More!" ring out amidst the cheers
Some say that exploitation is the game
It seems the girls enjoy it, just the same
A harmless titillation? It's your call
Some think the ladies headed for a fall
These acts, so sinful, some will say
Seem very tame by standards of today
Author Notes |
Image: CC0 licence - no attribution required.
Today's word: ecdysiast (n.) a striptease artiste. This day (13th March) in 1898 saw a dancer named Blanche Cavelli perform what is thought to be the world's first confirmed public striptease on stage in a Paris nightclub. * I'm not a French speaker, but I imagine the French audiences might have been calling out "plus" or "encore", rather than more. But to avoid confusion, I've kept the English version of the word. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
He's not really into organics
And he's clearly not fond of Hispanics
But this President guy
Makes a man want to cry
For his total lack of pericranics
Author Notes |
Today's word: pericranics (n.) intelligence, wits, mental faculties.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Dedicated to someone who deserved better - Rex Tillerson: |
By CD Richards
When leaders think themselves above all reach,
imagining themselves well in control,
then oft we see that fate conspires to teach,
"Beware the folly of a boastful soul."
Imagine at the Theatre of Pompey,
a senate of sicarians crowd round,
and on that murderous and fateful day,
they bring their hapless leader to the ground.
The Ides of March can rich instruction bring,
to never think that we are lords of all.
A life lived humbly is the proper thing,
it's true that pride will come before a fall.
Author Notes |
Image: The Assassination of Julius Caesar, Vincenzo Camuccini (1804).
Today's word: sicarian (n.) an assassin. Today (March 15) is the Ides of March - a day on the Roman calendar on which several religious observances were held, and also a day for the settling of debts. It is also notorious as the day Julius Caesar was assassinated by some sixty of his closest friends. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The traveller walked down the path, one fine clear summer's day.
He found his way obstructed, for upon the path did lay
a stone, quite unremarkable, 'twas nothing very bright,
but next to it, a pocketwatch reflected the sun's light.
He picked it up, inspecting it, the case was finest gold
with patterns marvellous embossed, quite wondrous to behold.
On top he found a knob with which he gave the watch a wind;
inside, the tensioned spring, he knew, was perfectly aligned.
And so, began to dawn on this, our thoughtful hiking friend,
an alleg'ry now popular, on that you can depend.
He thought perhaps the stone might be just sitting there by chance,
but not the watch— it wasn't there by some blind happenstance.
The cogs and wheels all set out with such placement so precise,
did not arrange themselves alone, all of their own device.
A daedal work, no question, is this timepiece quite divine;
blind chance has ne'er assembled a contraption quite so fine.
And as, without a watchmaker, a watch just cannot be;
the universe could not exist without divinity.
A grand designer must exist, or else it would not work;
the planets would collide as each one's orbit went beserk.
For when we look at life on Earth, with all its many kinds,
it surely is the product of a brilliant mind, or minds.
The facts cannot be questioned, there's a Maker, he concluded;
and he who disagrees, by definition, is deluded.
Alas, our quite observant friend, although his thoughts were smart,
had not refined his logic to the point of being art.
He failed to note deficiencies which brought his case undone;
his argument, though clever, fell short of a perfect one.
For what if, in the watch design, we found some stand-out flaws?
Would that not nullify our case, or give us cause to pause?
If cogs that serve no purpose should be found within the case,
would that not leave some egg upon our good watchmaker's face?
If by some chance, the hands sometimes got in each others' way,
would we not save "perfection" claims, to make another day?
Intelligent design demands some proof of expertise,
in light of failures such as these, our confidence would cease.
'Tis true that often worlds collide, with awful consequence;
they have for sev'ral billion years, and will for billions hence.
So planetary orbits are not proof of anything,
unless their failure should, upon those claims, discredit bring.
And what within the grand design should dictate whooping cough,
or deadly germs that breed and spread in poisonous run-off?
When wasps survive by laying eggs within a living host,
to eat them from the inside out, is that so grandiose?
What purpose do male nipples serve, or wisdom teeth fulfil?
Does our appendix have a job, except to make us ill?
There's much in life's great tapestry that doesn't seem well-planned,
or serve to indicate at all, a thoughtful, guiding hand.
I think, for those whose faith decrees there is a grand design,
to not resort to metaphor might serve their purpose fine.
Although this parable is neat, and I don't like to mock,
to me all things are natural, and not unlike the rock.
Author Notes |
Today's word: daedal (adj.) skilful, displaying great artistic craft or shrewdness.
In 1802, English clergyman William Paley published his Natural Theology or Evidences of the Existence and Attributes of the Deity. It contains his famous "watchmaker" argument, which, in a nutshell raises the question "If a watch could not spring, of its own accord, into existence, how could something vastly more complex, like the universe, be imagined to have done so?" This is a lighthearted attempt on my part to respond to Paley's argument. It's not meant to be a deep theological or philosophical treatment. The poem is long enough, yet still hardly scratches the surface. Paley's argument, although more than 200 years old, is still one of the most popular used by apologists to argue for intelligent design. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Compliance is by those in power sought;
unless they have it, they may come to nought.
Derailed by all the fear they've stood and taught,
eternity absorbs our every thought.
Immortal souls from hopes and dreams are wrought;
God's claimed cudeigh for acting as we ought.
How easily obedience is bought.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cudeigh (n.) a gift given as a bribe.
This is not so much a comment about religion, as those that, from positions of power, promote it for their own ends. Still, it's likely to offend some. * nought is the English version of the word Americans spell naught. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I have a secret crush on Carole King,
although it's not a secret any more.
Creating lovely music is her thing,
an asmatographer whom I adore.
It's hard, because she lives so far away,
and, to be honest, I think it's too late.
But one fine day I'd love to hear her play
the songs, so beautiful, she's penned to date.
Author Notes |
Photo: Angela George [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Today's word: asmatographer (n.) a dealer or writer of songs or sheet music. I've never seen Carole King live, although I've seen live shows devoted to her music. This is just a bit of fun, because the word of the day instantly brought her to mind. Fans might recognise that each line in the second stanza contains the name of one of her songs. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
In tax-free citadels, they claim high ground,
and haul our spirits, cowed, across the coals.
The chains of guilt, by means of which we're bound,
ensuring the entrapment of our souls.
With righteous indignation, so devout,
they speak of folly, waywardness and sin.
While promising to force the demons out,
the sermonising serves to keep them in.
But sometimes, through the cracks, will be perceived
a ray of hope, a glimpse of sanity;
and, letting go of fables long believed,
acceptance of the truth shall make us free.
The liberty most difficult to find?
Absconsion from the prison of one's mind.
Author Notes |
Today's word: absconsion (n.) an escape.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
If siderism's real, my friends,
I'll gladly eat my hat;
I'll tap-dance naked in a church
while shouting "fancy that!"
If dead people send messages
back from the afterlife,
I'll sign up with a monast'ry,
and gladly sell my wife.
If water's 'memories' can cure
a single known disease,
I'll knit myself a Tarzan suit,
and swing off through the trees.
The soothsayers, the psychic crowd,
the mediums and such,
when asked to justify their claims,
do protest far too much.
Consider this, before you pay
attention to their pitch—
you're forking out your hard-earned cash,
while charlatans get rich.
Don't open up your mind too wide,
retain some sense of doubt,
or else there is a real good chance
your brains will all fall out.
Author Notes |
Today's word: siderism (n.) the belief that the stars and heavens have an influence on life on Earth.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
To Croydon Park I ventured, after many decades gone,
with thoughts in mind to reunite with my old schoolmate, John.
But each door that I knocked at led to disappointment great;
no one had heard of John in years, or had word of his fate.
Then finally I learned, after a week of trekking 'round,
that John had moved to Parra', and was staying in "Lob's Pound".
But pressing for the details didn't do me any good,
no explanation, other than "he's left the neighborhood".
So to the phone book I did turn, and to the map as well;
but still no clue just where it was — they truly didn't tell.
Then, finally, I found a book that solved the mystery,
but what its pages had to say was quite a shock to me.
And, as I read, I rather think I might have turned quite pale—
to be in Lob's Pound means that one is locked up in a jail.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Lob's Pound (n.) a prison.
* Parra' : Vernacular for Parramatta, a city near Sydney in NSW, Australia. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
rampire: (n.) a dam, a barrier to water.
This poem is based on events which took place 20 years ago, but it remains one of the funniest true stories in circulation. The state of Michigan threatened to impose fines of $10,000 per day on a land owner for building a dam on a stream without a permit. It turned out that the dam was built by beavers. The reply from the land owner has gone viral as perhaps the best example of dealing with over-officious public officials ever. The correspondence, along with background information, can be viewed here: https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/dammed-beavers/ My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: hell-kettle (n.) a deep gulf, or abyss.
Photo credit: SEFSC Pascagoula Laboratory; Collection of Brandi Noble, NOAA/NMFS/SEFSC. CC2 license: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Notes:
"When Worlds Collide" is a 1932 novel by Balmer & Wylie, which was made into a movie by Paramount in 1951. "Rocket Man" is what B1 calls B2. In a stalemate, no one wins. Today's word: patt (n.) a stalemate. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Pray doctor, tell me, how shall I
be cured of this psychosis?
We must remove the head, I fear,
and practice some meiosis.
Author Notes |
Today's word: meiosis (n.) understatement.
psychosis (n.) a mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality. Sam could possibly be someone's father's brother. The central idea is that hyperbole - or gross exaggeration of issues is the cause of a lot of grief affecting many people today. Perhaps we need to rein this in a bit, to reinstate a smattering of normalcy. |
By CD Richards
A world is hiding there behind the sun
Not like our Earth at all, this other sphere
The poor have plenty while the rich have none
In caring for each other they find cheer
Can you envision some far world in which
Humanity respects and values life?
The good of all is their religion's pitch
How can it be, on Earth, greed is so rife?
Our species has it all completely wrong
No more excuses, time to get along
Author Notes |
Today's word: Antichthon (n.) an imaginary planet hidden from our view on the opposite side of the sun. A counter-Earth.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Counter-Earth |
By CD Richards
A thousand years ago in Nishapur,
was born a genius, one whose works endure.
Inspiring awe until this very day,
he'll never be forgotten, come what may.
In mathematics, he was without peer,
his mastery of algebra was clear.
Astronomer, was he, of quite some note,
the proof lies in a calendar he wrote.
From poetry that borders on divine,
we learn he had a healthy love of wine.
For Omar was a proper vinipote-
to prove it, one need only heed this quote:
A book of verses underneath the bough
A flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thou.
Thus says this truly wonderful Bacchant;
one luminary Persian bon vivant.
I raise my glass to celebrate his art,
in deference to old Rene Descartes;
and toast him with my very last iamb,
in playful jest- "I drink, therefore Khayyam."
Author Notes |
Today's word: vinipote (n.) wine-drinker.
Omar Khayyam (1048-1131) was a Persian polymath. He had a great grasp of mathematics, most noted for his work on the classification and solution of cubic equations. He was a skilled astronomer, having produced a calendar more accurate than the one produced five centuries later by Pope Gregory. But for me, it is his poetry that stands out. It is simply some of the best there is. Take, for example this, from his Rhubaiyat: "And do you think that unto such as you A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew God gave a secret, and denied it me? Well, well -- what matters it? Believe that, too!" Many of his poems reflect his love for wine, for example: Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why: drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. And this, You know, my friends, with what a brave carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; favored old barren reason from my bed, and took the daughter of the vine to spouse. Rene Descartes (1596-1650) was a French philosopher, mathematician and scientist. Much of present day western philosophy is based in his work, or in response to it. He is perhaps best known for his proof of his own existence: Cogito ergo sum - "I think, therefore I am." Bacchant: another word for a lover of wine. Derived from Bacchus, the Greek god of wine and revelry. Bon vivant: someone devoted to a sociable and luxurious lifestyle. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now there once was a poet from Chisolm,
claimed his verse was above criticism.
With panache and great flair,
not a peer anywhere,
and devoid of all crass Barnumism!
Author Notes |
Today's word: Barnumism (n.) exaggerated, overblown promotion.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Like lambs to the slaughter
they go;
betrayed,
like the carpenter's son,
for a handful of silver.
In their nostrils,
the scent of death;
in their eyes,
panic.
Nowhere to run,
nowhere to hide.
In their last moments,
they wonder
what they did
to deserve this fate;
and then...
they wonder
no more.
Love
Joy
Peace
things they have never known.
But now,
mercifully,
their suffering ends.
The driver curses the blood
and the excrement,
then leaves this Aceldama,
this place of death,
to retrieve more
lambs to the slaughter.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Aceldama (n.) a place of great slaughter or bloodshed.
Now this man purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood. - Acts 1:18-19. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Let it be known we have for sale some land
Increase your borders for a modest price
Cheap at two cents an acre, high demand
Keep mind of what might be below the ice
Perhaps there could be precious gold or oil
Enough to make you rich beyond compare
No knowing what reward could come from toil
Now is the time, so just sign there, and, there
You are the owners now, I do declare
Author Notes |
Today's word: lickpenny (n.) a costly enterprise; something demanding great expenditure.
On this day (March 30) 1867, American Secretary of State William H Seward and Russian diplomat Edouard de Stoeckl reached an agreement that the United States would purchase Alaska from Russia, at a cost of two cents an acre. The deal mostly met with approval, but some were not happy, believing the price was too high. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Such a pretty yellow trinket,
did you really ever think it
capable of making happy
one sad life so dull and crappy?
Weeping sores and great big holes
fester, eating at our souls.
Is a pretty pendant worth
blasting holes in mother Earth?
Stuff the land, forget the trees
let's see rings wave in the breeze.
In the shop they shine so bright,
far from this awful dissight.
No amount of shiny things
fills the emptiness greed brings.
Leave the metal in the ground,
try to bring our senses round.
Precious, and worth more than gold,
landscapes formed in days of old.
Once lost to our careless reign,
they will not come back again.
Let's revise our stewardship,
turn it round and get a grip.
No more digging up our land,
time that we saw mining banned.
Author Notes |
Image: By Calistemon (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)
modified as permitted under terms of licence Today's word: dissight (n.) an eyesore; anything unpleasant to look upon. The top image is an open-cut gold mine in Western Australia. To give you an idea of the size, the bottom image is a haul-truck used in the pit. It is larger than your average house. The tiny black dots you can see scattered around the mine floor are these trucks. There is a gold mine less than half an hour from my house bigger than the one in the photo. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
His music’s quite lacking in art;
this doorbellist’s not really smart.
When some folks thought to say,
"Take a hike, NRA",
their words cut him right to the heart.
Author Notes |
Today's word : doorbellist (n.) a dim-witted dolt.
31/03/18: Ted Nugent calls Parkland survivors 'liars' and 'soulless' in interview because of their criticism of the role played by the NRA in enabling mass murder. Normally, this word would scream out to be applied to someone else. But that person is being given a rest today. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When ideology says I must vote
in one, and only one, way ev'ry time;
what do I do when my party elects
a candidate without reason or rhyme?
When all their actions contradict the ones
that I've been taught from childhood are the way
good people must behave, should I ignore
those trespasses, or at the least downplay:
their bending of the rules to breaking point,
their scandalmongering and twisted truth,
their preference for slander and for slurs,
their statements both appalling and uncouth?
Then having seen their actions for a time,
and finding them in contrast to what I
regard as conduct ethical and good,
should I cease giving voice to such a lie?
But dogma is a force most powerful,
expediency tells my mind to wait.
My peers would never understand the change,
Perhaps it's best that I should eluscate.
Author Notes |
Today's word: eluscate (v.) turn a blind eye.
Note regarding meter: Preference is meant to be read as spelled - pref-er-ence, not pref-rence. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When his cousins got shot, Jesse hatched a new plot,
he'd recruit some fresh blood for his gang;
he invited them back to his small, cosy shack
where they plotted, drank whiskey and sang.
Then he glanced at the wall, where he saw, to his gall
a small picture did crookedly hang;
so the outlaw stood up, and he put down his cup;
as he touched it, the old picture swang.
Robert Ford took his chance, while the gang looked askance,
and shot James in the back with a bang.
Why'd you shoot that poor man? He was head of the clan!
asked a man in his broad, western twang.
The reward was too great to let it pass, mate;
as for guilt, I have nary a pang...
Now I'm no longer poor, smiled the cruel traditor,
once he heard the cash register clang.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Traditor (n.) a traitor, one who betrays another.
It was on this day (April 3) in 1882 that Jesse James was shot and killed by a member of his own gang. The story is above. Why we need this word when we have the perfectly acceptable "traitor" is anybody's guess. The addition of a "d" doesn't justify it, as far as I can see. Possibly "traditor" is an older version - I don't know. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: imprevision (n.) lack or disregard of foresight, improvidence.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Do aliens with super-hearing scare
An audience that may have seen it all?
Can silence be the means to stay alive?
To speak could spell this family's downfall.
Your neck hairs will most surely stand on end,
Like Shaggy in a Scooby-Doo cartoon.
Oh-oh the snack bar's out of Scooby-Snacks;
Look out! It looks like they will get her soon.
One move that's wrong, and they could all be through,
Good gracious, honey, what's a guy to do?
You watch, and I'll just hide here behind you.
Author Notes |
Today's word: dactylology (n.) finger speech.
A Quiet Place is a movie about a family being hunted by monsters with super-hearing. To avoid being found, they mostly use sign language (or dactylology) to communicate. I haven't actually seen the movie yet (looking forward to doing so on the weekend!), so this is written based on reviews. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: periscian (n.) an inhabitant of the polar regions.
poppinesque: like Mary Poppins - who, of course, had a love of parasols. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If you take a young lass to the altar,
then you'd best be her rock of Gibraltar.
For if you do her in,
then you just cannot win,
and you'll end your life as a crack-halter.
Author Notes |
Today's word: crack-halter (n.) someone liable one day to be hanged. A "gallows-bird".
Uxoricide is the act of killing your wife. Killing one's husband is known as mariticide. The act that got you there in the first place is known as a wedding ceremony, or "a massive lapse of judgement". Oh relax, I'm joking! (sort of) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If I should let Jon Edward fill my head
with messages relayed from one who's dead,
and I should heed a manufactured claim
of one lost ghost who can't recall his name;
if Madame Zelda sees writ in the stars,
or conjures from the influence of Mars
a single obstacle that I must face,
I'll hop aboard the next flight into space.
If water's memories can heal my ills,
well maybe I should toss out all these pills;
let homeopathy fix all my woes,
and thank God he invented placebos.
Once all the deities have gone to bed,
I'll jettison this nonsense from my head;
and superstition will be just a blur,
for reason makes a fine sockdolager.
Author Notes |
Today's word: sockdolager (n.) something of exceptional size or extraordinariness; a knockout blow.
I firmly believe "thoughts and prayers", as advocated by the US President after yet another senseless mass shooting, will do zero to fix the stupidity which leads to humans treating other humans as expendable. And all the nonsense we choose to fill our heads with only serves as a distraction from dealing with things sensibly. Two things can save our species: a sense of empathy, and the ability to reason. Because reason has the ability to change our destiny, if we use it properly, I think it truly deserves the term "sockdolager". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: lamprophony (n.) clarity of voice; a voice which shines.
Composite picture created from public domain images. |
By CD Richards
I know there's times that you must go away
But I just thought I'd take this chance to say
I'm never happy 'til you're back once more
My spirits lift when you walk through the door
My wish is that you're back this time to stay
I need you each and ev'ry centiday
Author Notes |
I swear this poem is about a dog waiting impatiently for his best friend to come home. No correspondence will be entered into.
Today's word: centiday (n.) 1/100th of a day (or 14 minutes and 24 seconds, but who's counting?) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Are you a friend to whom I can relate,
or could you be the foe who seals my fate?
Well it would seem that either one can fit,
for some words also mean their opposite;
a fact which can cause consternation great,
but either way it seems you're my copesmate.
Author Notes |
Today's word: copesmate (n.) adversary; or, a partner or associate.
Copesmate began life as a word meaning an adversary, in the mid 1500s, but by the time Shakespeare wrote The Rape of Lucrece, in 1594, it could mean any two bonded or codependent things: "Misshapen Time, copesmate of ugly Night" Its most recent meaning is to indicate a partnership or friendship. Words like copesmate, which can be their own opposite, are known as contronyms. Other examples include: consult: give advice, or, take advice; custom: a common practice, or, a special treatment; left: departed, or, remaining. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When speaking, I would hope that you
place all the facts out in plain view.
You must not waffle, wasting words;
to beat the bush is for the birds.
Address the point you must relate—
don't circumbilivaginate.
Author Notes |
I know, once you've stopped smirking, you're going to tell me it's not a real word. If in doubt, Google! (Which is, of course, a verb as well as a noun).
Today's word: circumbilivagination (n.) to walk (or talk) around in circles. N.B. I've used the verb form here. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Well, Pugnozzle Pete felt a bit incomplete,
from his rear to the tip of his jowl.
"If I only had wings, why think of the things
I could see, when I flew like an owl!"
So Pete went to a vet, a kind soul he once met,
"I just really wish I could fly."
As the vet checked him in, she remarked with a grin,
"No promises. Still, we can try."
Now it happened that day, somewhere not far away,
an eagle crashed into a tree;
a lad brought him in, the poor bird couldn't win,
and he wound up as dead as could be.
The vet took his pinions and, helped by her minions,
secured them to Pete's sturdy back.
Then, once done, the vet cried (with a slight hint of pride),
"For miracles, I've got a knack!"
Now, Pete's quite lost for words, as he soars with the birds—
he's the happiest dog in the world;
for he once had a dream, and pursued it full-steam,
and that's how this story unfurled.
Author Notes |
Today's word: pugnozzle (v.) to move the nose and lips like a pug dog.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Our lives are like a play upon the stage,
where struggles, in our minds, each day play out.
We work through hopes and fear, through love and rage,
and wonder, "Really, what's it all about?"
To look for happiness is all men's right—
some wise folk told us so a while ago.
For misery should be nobody's plight,
although our joy may sometimes ebb and flow.
Yet does this mean we need to be amused
by bucklebuster lines until we split?
Are happiness and mirth too oft confused?
Is laughter prime? I think there's more to it.
Said Socrates, the way to conquer strife
is simply this: to live a thoughtful life.
Author Notes |
Today's word: bucklebuster (n.) a line in a play that elicits a laugh from an audience.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The ship set sail with an untested crew,
but full of trust that good things would ensue.
Yet ere they'd been at sea for very long,
'twas obvious that there was something wrong.
The ship was listing, rocking to and fro;
the captain didn't know which way to go.
The passengers soon sought one to endorse
who'd steer them on a less naufragous course.
Unhappily, ineptitude they'd hired,
the only way to fix it was, You're fired!
We're perilously perched upon the brink-
please leave this vessel now, before we sink.
Remember, for a safe and happy trip,
don't let incompetents control your ship.
Author Notes |
Sharp-eyed readers will see this is one of my not-a-sonnets (AABB instead of ABAB).
Today's word: naufragous (adj. causing a shipwreck. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, if your stamp is upside down,
there is no need to pout or frown;
a tete-beche is not a bad thing,
for it can increased riches bring.
Since stamps which are in some way flawed
are by philatelists adored,
a "thank you" is what you should say,
and just be glad it came your way.
Author Notes |
Today's word: tete-beche (n.) a stamp wrongly printed, being upside down in relation to others in a set.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
From high above the trees and sand,
God's servant gazed for miles around.
He'd never walk the Promised Land;
interred, was he, on Moab's ground.
My Pisgah? To see love abound.
Author Notes |
Then Moses climbed Mount Nebo from the plains of Moab to the top of Pisgah, across from Jericho. There the LORD showed him the whole land - from Gilead to Dan, all of Naphtali, the territory of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the Mediterranean Sea, the Negev and the whole region from the Valley of Jericho, the City of Palms, as far as Zoar. Then the LORD said to him, "This is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when I said, 'I will give it to your descendants.' I have let you see it with your eyes, but you will not crossover into it." And Moses the servant of the LORD died there in Moab, as the LORD had said. - Deuteronomy 34: 1-5 Today's word: Pisgah (n.) a view or glimpse of something unattainable or unreachable. Occasionally, I hear a story which makes me think there is hope for mankind. That possibly, selfishness and greed are not the prime motivators of our species. The illusion usually lasts only a few minutes before it is shattered by some new appalling example of humanity's inhumanity. For this reason, a compassionate world is my personal Pisgah. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: terremotive (adj.) seismic; as powerful as an earthquake.
Image: CC0 licence - no attribution required. |
By CD Richards
It's natural when folk demand
that he who represents a land
should be one who is worthy of the job;
and not an empty talking head,
whose words were better left unsaid,
appealing to a loud and angry mob.
When bluster and vulgarity
are lauded for the world to see,
and manners are the subject of much mirth;
I fear this dim novitiate
might manage to principiate
the end of life on this our planet Earth.
Now, I don't mean to cause offence,
but it's high time to show some sense,
before he brings his country tumbling down.
Find someone with some dignity,
who isn't clearly off his tree—
back to the circus with this oafish clown.
Author Notes |
Today's word: principiate (v.) to cause to begin; to set in motion.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When wishing to experience a scare,
a chilling read quite sure to raise your hair;
It's to the bookshop you must up and go,
and choose a tale or two by Mr Poe.
This murdermonger quite extraordinaire
wrote horror with a great degree of flair.
Author Notes |
Today's word: murdermonger (n.) a writer of murder stories.
On 20th April, 1841 Edgar Allan Poe's "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" was released, so this seems an appropriate day to pen a small tribute. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: miscounsel (n.) bad advice.
The poet laureate, Robert Southey, once offered some advice to a young woman who sent him some of her poems to review: Literature cannot be the business of a woman's life, and it ought not to be. The more she is engaged in her proper duties, the less leisure she will have for it, even as an accomplishment and a recreation. The name of the 20-year-old who received this scathing response? Charlotte Bronte. Enough said. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When solastalgia's all that we have left,
long after the last tree has disappeared;
and animals are only found in books,
we'll finally regret the course we've steered.
Our callous disregard for this, our home,
is like a babe demolishing its womb;
the Earth which gave birth to the human race
shall in a little while become its tomb.
Author Notes |
* with apologies to Carole King.
Today's word: solastalgia (n.) mental distress or nostalgia sparked by environmental change. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Goodness does not come from tablets of clay
Heartfelt compassion's a much better way
Author Notes |
Today's word: G. H. (n.) old news.
According to the Dictionary of Slang, Jargon and Cant (1889), the letters G.H. made their way into the (then) vernacular as follows: These initial letters owe their origin to a certain Mr George Horne, a typographer, who was in the habit of retailing stale news. If a workman repeats a story already known, an intimation to hold his tongue is conveyed by uttering the ominous letters 'G. H.' This very short acrostic states a simple truth which is as old (and obvious) as humanity itself. Unfortunately, some think otherwise, in my view to our detriment. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, I'm not that well-versed, (you might say I am cursed),
In anything bibliothetic;
when locating a book, I don't know where to look,
my attempts are quite plainly pathetic.
First I search by surname, but the hunt is in vain,
I exclaim in a whisper, "Well, phooey!";
then by subject I try, failure leads me to cry,
and I curse that old buzzard named Dewey.
Author Notes |
Today's word: bibliothetic (adj.) pertaining to the arrangement of books in a library.
The Dewey Decimal System is a convoluted cataloguing system for libraries, first released in 1876, and designed to ensure minimum likelihood of finding any volume of interest. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Said the penguin, "I'm loath to inflame,
but I feel I must ask, just the same-
could you please call me 'nun-bird',
or else make up a new word,
for 'arsefoot' isn't my fav'rite name!"
Author Notes |
Today's word: arsefoot (n.) a penguin.
Apparently, in addition to being ANZAC Day, April 25 is also World Penguin Day. According to Oliver Goldsmith (1774), sailors used to call penguins "arse-feet", for reasons which I suppose are obvious, but perhaps a little unkind. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Across the sky, a brilliant glow,
as nature picks tonight to send
a message from a broken world,
reminding us that all things end.
Just like this rock, we've come so far,
achieving much since days of old;
but like our ceraunite guest,
our destiny can soon turn cold.
Will all our dreams come crashing down?
Is mankind just a shooting star?
A passing fad? A minor glitch?
A phantom blip on God's radar?
It's time we understood our place,
our only hope is this blue ball;
and if we mess it up we'll find
we're not so special after all.
Author Notes |
Today's word: ceraunite (n.) a meteorite.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The subject's exercised the mind of man
since not long after we climbed down from trees;
of how it is the universe began—
we love to contemplate cosmogonies.
Is it due to almighty sorcery?
(A concept of which I am not that fond);
I find it rather difficult to see
us as the product of a magic wand.
Or could it be we're all part of a game,
an alien VR experiment?
A simulation within a mainframe;
creation, just some virtual event?
The mystery of origins is vast
and I suspect there's much we'll never know.
Unravelling the secrets of the past
is difficult, it was so long ago.
I feel we should resist the strange idea
that ev'rything there is was made for us;
anthropocentric thinking isn't clear,
and what are we, that we should cause such fuss?
For fourteen billion years there has been "stuff",
and many billions after we have gone
the universe still won't have had enough,
and, without us, will cheerfully roll on.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cosmogony (n.) the creation of the universe.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Have you seen played out on silver screen,
the most famous revolt ever seen?
When the brave William Bligh,
who would never say die,
survived Christian's act, bold and mutine.
Author Notes |
Today's word: mutine (n.) rebellious, threatening mutiny.
On this day (28th April) in 1789, William Bligh and eighteen other crew members of The Bounty were set adrift in a rowing boat in the middle of the Pacific, after a mutiny led by Fletcher Christian. Until fairly recently, the way this story was often portrayed was that of a harsh and intolerant Bligh, and a brave and heroic Christian. In more recent times, historians have looked more favourably upon Bligh, and shown him to be quite capable of showing compassion. My approach here is purely pragmatic - the position taken makes the poem work. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A fool is one who says there is no God,
Psalm Fourteen spells it out as clear as day;
of course, those who don't toe the line are wrong—
does dogma ever teach another way?
Each dissident is in Satan's employ,
it never gets old being demonised.
Can 'pious' people not see what is plain—
that some don't buy the message advertised?
It doesn't take redemption to be good,
can any hear this truth and be surprised?
For eons men have conjured angry Gods
and told us those who disobey will die;
control and power are their stock in trade,
the truth's more simple— don't believe a lie.
Author Notes |
Today's word: apodeictic (adj.) demonstrated to be incontrovertibly true.
For ever, religions of all persuasions have claimed to be the keepers of absolute truth. And that must be correct, because their holy writings say so. Years ago, a person questioned this authority at the risk of their life. Today, in some places at least, the risk is not so great for those with a different view. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I do not need a paragrandine—
in these parts, hail is not often seen.
A new car would be nice,
at a reasonable price;
most colours are fine, but not green.
Author Notes |
Today's word: paragrandine (n.) a device for protection against hail.
Who'd have thought there is such a thing? If you Google the word, you can see such a device for protecting cars. Sadly, I can't reproduce the image due to copyright restrictions. This weekend just past, my other half and I both found ourselves in need of replacing our aging vehicles - so off we went to get new ones. That is probably what inspired this little ditty. Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
'Twas cracker night, and gathered to the fray,
(apologies to Banjo, I must say),
were cousins, aunts and uncles, local kids—
one wouldn't miss this bash— no, not for quids.
For days, dad worked on building the bonfire,
as bit by bit, the tandle pyre grew higher.
Old tree loppings and bits of rotted fence,
most anything to make the flame intense.
While Catherine wheels span on the post or rail,
we watched in awe as sky rockets set sail
into the black of night, chasing the stars,
"That purple one exploded right near Mars!"
With Thunder bungers, Tom Thumbs and Throwdowns
we took our chances, always being clowns.
From time to time, someone got in the way,
and copped a Roman Candle's fiery spray.
Then with the bicarb mum would treat our burns,
on bad nights, we'd be lining up for turns—
then wipe the tears away, and back outside,
as dogs and cats sought out a place to hide.
I miss those nights when I was around eight,
before our land became a nanny state;
and simple pleasures vanished one by one
as bureaucrats conspired to end our fun.
So now, our kids are safe in bubble-wrap,
official types don't get into a flap;
instead, the children, glued to their PCs
and cell phones, google unknown words like "breeze",
or "sunshine", "ball", "the beach", "skateboard" and "park";
they never venture outside, there's no spark,
no danger, no excitement, no best friend—
they vegetate, and wait for life to end.
At least that is the way it is for some,
for whom the internet's both dad and mum.
It's time we cut our housebound kids a break,
and learned to let them live, for goodness' sake.
Today, let's take them for an ocean swim,
or any crazy escapade, on whim;
to ride a mountain bike through forests green—
who gives a toss if they don't come home clean?
At childhood, we are all given one chance,
so let them build a fort, or learn to dance;
they need to grow, and make mistakes in play,
for they can be adults another day.
Author Notes |
Image: By Gary Houston [CC0], from Wikimedia Commons
Today's word: tandle (n.) a bonfire. * I have intentionally "stolen", in tribute, one phrase from a famous poem by A.B. (Banjo) Paterson's The Man From Snowy River, which contains the following: "and all the cracks had gathered to the fray", hence the "apologies to Banjo" line. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When I was just a little lad,
I lost count of the nightmares had
from watching Deadly Earnest on TV.
A mind on Creature Features fed,
imagined, underneath the bed,
cryptobionts of great variety.
And in my closet there were hid,
strange beings that would eat a kid,
they'd serve him up for dinner in a pie.
Today, the boy is fully grown,
the foolishness of childhood's flown—
I'm fearful now of monsters in the sky.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cryptobiont (n.) an animal that lives out of sight, or in a concealed habitat.
Not entirely autobiographical. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Across the Hellespont each night did brave Leander swim
Swim in the darkness, heading for the light of Hero's lamp
Lamp light across the water told the young man where to head
Head filled with thoughts of Hero's arms, in which he would encamp
Encamp until the dawn was near, then bid his love farewell
Farewell, and then he'd vanish, as discreetly as he came
Came he to grief one cold dark night, Hero alone knew when
When mid-transnate, a storm sprang up, winds doused his lover's flame
Flame first burns bright, and then it dies, as darkness closes in
In circles did Leander swim, until his strength was gone
Gone was his flame, he disappeared, beneath the swirling waves
Waves of despair swamped Hero's soul, she could not carry on
On jagged rocks, near tower's base, Leander's body washed
Washed by her tears, poor Hero's face distorted in despair
Despair soon led to action there was no returning from
From that high tower, she did jump, and her life ended there
There in the seaside town of Sestos, dwelt a maiden fine
Fine weather for the lovers only lasted summer long
Long days gave way to winter chills, and sorrow filled the air
Air brought Leander to his doom, bearing a siren's song
Author Notes |
Today's word: transnate (v.) to swim across something.
Characters: Hero - a priestess of Aphrodite who lived in a tower in Sestos on the European side of the Hellespont (known today as the Dardanelles). Leander - a young man from Abydos, on the Asian side of the strait. A number of ancient poets wrote about the tale of Hero and Leander, including Ovid and Virgil. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, paranomasia, they say,
is a humorous type of word play;
when with words that don't fit,
we exhibit our wit—
it's okay to be slightly cray cray.
Author Notes |
Today's word: paranomasia (n.) wordplay based on words that sound alike.
Please note: I didn't make up the "May 4th" bit at the end (I wish I had!) It's included only as an example of what the limerick is about, and because it's appropriate for today - the day I posted this poem, that is. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When Stegosaurus hosts a bash
it's bound to be great fun;
if asked what party outdoes his,
I'd say, "Probably none."
Triceratops is not known as
a host of grand events;
Velociraptor's gatherings
can often cause offence.
So when old Steggy made it known
a shindig he would hold;
the news was spread to those nearby—
to creatures young and old.
But time was of the essence and
some guests were far away,
and raptors, although fleet of foot,
get side-tracked on the way.
So Steggy called for Pterodactyl,
"Can you help, old friend?
There's no one else on Earth I'd trust,
these messages to send."
And Ptero answered in a flash,
"I'm here for you, I am—
if you want news delivered fast,
send it dactylogram!"
Author Notes |
Word of the day: dactylogram (n.) a fingerprint.
For those readers who might think the way the "word of the day" as used in this poem does not reflect its true meaning - you're correct :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Head off to the political forum
to indulge in a wee whipmegmorum.
There's exchanging of views
and critiquing of news...
but it might lack a bit of decorum.
Author Notes |
Today's word: whipmegmorum (n.) a noisy quarrel about politics.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The man stood at the lecturn and
he said I was a prideful fool;
I must repent or face an end
which I considered harsh and cruel.
It seems my father sealed my fate,
and so on back through Adam's line.
It doesn't pay, apparently,
to anger one who is divine.
I have to wonder, "Why free-will?"
It's not as if we have a choice;
for freedom cannot be our lot,
if we may not dissention voice.
I'll shoulder blame when I am wrong,
and ask forgiveness when I ought;
but though I try to get along,
I'm not the dedititious sort.
When somebody suggests that I've
been broken ever since my birth;
and I'm incapable of good,
I think that's rot, for what it's worth.
Of faults, I know I've got my share,
more numerous, it's true, than some;
but I have sought to harm no one—
compassion is my rule of thumb.
Perhaps it suits oppressive folk
to make us think we're full of sin;
by making us heed their advice
the outcome is, we lose, they win.
For has not history made clear,
an angry god is the best way
to keep the populace in line?
Forbid sedition, come what may.
To no man will I bow or scrape,
nor to an unseen magistrate;
I'll take the good, regret the bad,
and what's to come, I'll leave to fate.
Author Notes |
Today's word: dedititious (adj.) surrendering or yielding to another.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: shadrach: (n.) someone standing close to a source of heat, who seems to be unaffected by it.
Shadrach is the name of a character in a Bible story involving King Nebuchadnezzar. The meaning is obvious after reading the story, which can be found in Daniel 3:13-30. Melania Trump seems to be a perfect example of one who can 'stand next to fire', and yet remain largely unaffected by it. No more needs to be said about that. Unfortunately, Melania seems to attract her own sort of trouble, reports surfacing in the last 24 hours of her again claiming credit for someone else's work. To me, it seems that the first lady could well be a great example of "grace under fire", and her mistakes simply due to naivety. Perhaps someone should take her aside and gently explain the concept of plagiarism. Image: From the book "Bible Primer - Old Testament (1919)". According to the Library of Congress, there are no known copyright restrictions on this work. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
To those who plunder and denude our Earth,
destroyers of the home they've known since birth;
who dig and drill and fracture, scar and maim
this planet endlessly, and to their shame,
then raze the forests, rendering homeless
a thousand species suffering distress:
your avarice and greed will soon ensure
the Earth is forced to implement a cure;
annihilate the source of all its woe—
humanity will be the first to go.
You thoroughly deserve to be reviled;
your mainour is the future of your child.
Author Notes |
Today's word: mainour (n.) A stolen item, found in a thief's possession when they are caught.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Frank N Furter's a little transvestic,
of his moves, I'd say they are agrestic.
He was playing a role,
such a sensitive soul,
and a huge fan of all things orchestic.
If you think this line is anapestic,
you're correct - let's not have a domestic.
It's a limerick, dear,
let me make that quite clear—
it's not meant to be friggin' majestic!
Author Notes |
Today's word: orchestic (adj.) related to dancing. agrestic: rustic or uncouth anapestic: poetic meter consisting of two short syllables, followed by a long one transvestic: related to cross-dressing "And crawling on the planet's face, some insects called the human race. Lost in time, and lost in space - and meaning." - Super Heroes, Rocky Horror. If you haven't seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show, this poem may not make a lot of sense to you. Also, you really should, it's amazingly good. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
My patience had started to dwindle,
I'm not one to steal or to swindle.
When the cop fingered me,
I gave up family,
"It's not me you want, it's my twindle!"
Author Notes |
Today's word: twindle (n.) twin.
Have to say I haven't been overly inspired by the words for the last couple of days. Can you tell? Anyway, there's an old saying something along the lines of a poor workman blames his tools, so it is what it is :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
My mum was a bit of a drubber,
and cleaned my mouth with a pot-scrubber.
It was unjustified,
so I cried and I cried—
I'm just a compulsive word-grubber.
Author Notes |
Today's word: word-grubber (n.) someone who uses obscure or difficult words in everyday conversation.
Also... drubber: someone who administers beatings. pot-scrubber: a device for scrubbing pots (!) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Regarding your behaviour, Sir, it's poor;
and not at all like patriots of yore.
Good manners don't cost much, I think you know;
maybe you just forgot, for it's below
a leader to speak ill of other folk.
No calling women "dogs", that's not a joke;
no one, it seems, but you, thinks that's the way
enlightened men communicate today.
Respect is needed; try being a gent,
since no land needs an uncouth President.
Author Notes |
Today's word: rag-manners (n.) bad manners.
P.S. Still struggling to find time to keep up with things on FS. Hopefully, it will pass. Thanks for your patience. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
My ship set sail so long ago, it all seems just a blur;
this vessel's rarely let me down, I'm grateful for that fact.
At times I've ventured off the course, with this I will concur;
though, given opportunity, there's not much I'd retract.
I know that once my journey's done, my bones will worm-food make,
and I'm not one to speculate about "the other side";
but if into an afterlife, astonished, I should wake,
my periegesis will tell of a quite amazing ride!
Author Notes |
Periegesis (n.) an account of a journey.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: deliquium (n.) a fainting, a swooning; a total eclipse.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image Credit: NASA/SwRI.Amir Caspi/Dan Seaton |
By CD Richards
To those of you whose motivation
lies not in hopes of premiation,
hold up your heads, for you've done nothing wrong.
Ignore the folk who preach damnation,
don't buy the myth you need salvation,
for you are marching to another song.
You have no need to be implored
to show compassion, you've abhorred
the "might is right" philosophy since birth.
Through peacefulness is hope restored,
and kindness is its own reward,
a man's heart is the measure of his worth.
Author Notes |
Meter is iambic - syllables 8-8-10 or 9-9-10 (depending on masculine/feminine ending). Rhyme scheme aabaab.
Today's word: premiation (n.) a prize-giving, the act of bestowing a reward. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If speaking Slurvian's your thing,
you're too right wing.
So take a pill,
don't be dill.
You think yourself the voice of God,
that's really odd.
Have your own say,
to get your way.
The test of our humanity
is: all are free
and equal too,
including you.
Author Notes |
Word for today: Slurvian (n.) nonsense; incoherent speech.
Photo by Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America (Wayne LaPierre) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Hawaiians witness nature's awesome power,
with volcanism shows upon the hour.
As molten rock consumes all in its way,
huge ash clouds usher darkness at mid-day.
And witnesses to Kilauea's ire
pray that the land itself won't catch on fire;
while owners of resorts, hotels and bars
still ply their trade, and thank their lucky stars
that they are not inside the danger zone,
where rocks the size of fridges could be thrown.
The gods inside this mountain are not meek,
it's sure to be a tense and watchful week.
Let's hope ere long conditions will subside,
that small creatures no longer need to hide,
the consternation's soon replaced by calm,
and citizens stay safe and free from harm.
Author Notes |
Image: public domain.
Today's word: volcanism (n.) volcanic activity or nature; a seething or erupting anger. I've elected to use the literal meaning. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I wonder what the doofus does
on dark and Stormy nights;
perhaps I'll watch some porn star tapes
to gather some insights.
Now I can see how Christian folk
forgive a lying tongue,
and I've been told since just a lad,
"No one is good, not one."
But I don't see how it is not
the worst hypocrisy
to happily condone
his unashamed adultery.
It seems the Good Book's stern commands
just fly right out the door
when one who spruiks your chosen guff
steps up to take the floor.
Then, happily you toss the book,
it flies right out of reach;
and you feel not a pang of guilt
regarding your spousebreach.
Author Notes |
Photo depicts David and Bathsheba. 17th century, author unknown. Public domain image.
Today's word: spousebreach (n.) adultery. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
To be's the question, or, perhaps, to not—
a sonnet I have penned, just like the Bard;
invoking skills I thought were long forgot—
it's simple really, who declared it hard?
But as the time went by, my thoughts did stray,
and soon my verse had lost all sense of form;
I found my rhymes would head the other way,
my sonnet now no longer met the norm.
Instead of rhyming in lines one and three,
my pattern soon became AABB;
and echoing the rule for two and four,
was simply found "to be" too hard a chore.
A quatorzain it is, but it is not
a sonnet now; too bad, I've lost the plot!
Author Notes |
Today's word: quatorzain (n.) a poem of fourteen lines which does not meet the form requirements of a sonnet.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I've drunk warm beer in English pubs,
and been to Scotland, too.
I've crossed the US west to east—
on Tower Air I flew.
I bought a hand-made suit while I
was visiting Hong Kong,
and spent a few days in Japan,
then sadly said, "So long."
In Holland I encountered roads
that were completely flat;
Italian cities are the best—
there's little doubt of that.
In Germany, when I was there,
the Schwarzwald was snow white,
and Innsbruck is a gorgeous place
when viewing it at night.
My mind was filled with wonder at
the Palace of Versailles;
I tried my luck in Monaco—
the stakes were way too high.
While in my travels I have seen
far more than my fair share;
there's no where else of which I'd say
I'd rather I lived there.
Though there's no spot on Earth I've been
that I would want to scorn,
my heart belongs to only one—
the place where I was born.
There are no tow'ring summits here,
no jungles, so to speak.
Of ancient buildings, we have none,
our ski slopes aren't unique.
Instead of meadows you will find
a thirsty, sun-scorched land;
the paddocks often brown and dry,
or mostly dust and sand.
Of wildlife, most examples are
inclined to be quite small;
and many that can kill you
are the tiniest of all.
The world is full of wondrous sights,
each continent is full
of features making it unique,
and each has its own pull.
But I could never leave these shores
and stay away for good;
for homesickness is what I feel
far from my neighbourhood.
So be proud of your ancient towns,
the histories they tell;
your country's scenic beauty and
its man-made sights as well;
but I won't swap my star-filled skies
for postcard fields of green;
nor leave the land that I call home
for places transmarine.
Author Notes |
Today's word: transmarine (adj.) crossing, or across, the sea.
Schwarzwald: Black Forest. |
By CD Richards
We think ourselves the kings and queens of this our planet Earth;
the right to use it as we wish bestowed on us at birth.
But there are limits to abuses nature will allow;
the consequences of our acts begin to haunt us now.
This promised land, like a mirage, may well soon disappear,
and vanish in a heat-haze as our folly becomes clear.
Let's mourn our milk and honey as it trickles down the drain;
we cannot solve a three-pipe problem with a one-pipe brain.
Author Notes |
Today's word: three-pipe (adj.) extremely complex, requiring much thought.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. This was inspired by two very different stories. The first is Conan Doyle's The Red-Headed League, in which Sherlock calls a particularly difficult piece of deduction a "three-pipe problem", referring to the time needed to solve it -- the time to consume three of bowls of tobacco. The second is the description of the promised land in the Biblical book of Deuteronomy as "a land flowing with milk and honey" -- a phrase indicating great beauty and abundance. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
(sung to the tune of "Dingle-Dangle Scarecrow")
When all the cowboys were sleeping
And the baddies had gone to bed
Up jumped old Wayne-o,
and this is what he said:
(Chorus)
I'm a dimber-damber scarecrow
With a space under my hat
There's a big hole where my brain should be
I'm nearly sure of that
He's got a wee hard-on for Dana
'Cuz she is just so tough
A dozen crying white women
Is never quite enough
(Chorus)
He's a dimber-damber scarecrow
You might say that he's a brat
And he thinks the sweetest sound of all
Is rat-tat-tat-tat-tat
As more school children are buried
He can hear the cash registers chime
Gun sales soaring off the charts
Hooray, it's party time
(Chorus)
He's a dimber-damber scarecrow
And he's really, really dumb
Gives not a toss how many die
And that's what makes him scum
Author Notes |
Today's word: dimber-damber (n.) the leader of a gang of criminals.
To anyone who might be offended, I am sorry, but I did warn you in the comments. If you find my words offensive, please understand that I find the never-ending slaughter of innocent children offensive. No one is forcing you to read. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: iddy-umpty (n.) Morse code.
Dear Hallmark: I'm open to offers. Image: U.S. Air Force photo by Kemberly Groue. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
As she lay dying, few took time to mourn;
their thoughts were focused on quite other things.
She gasped for breath, forgotten and forlorn,
and longed to feel the peace that death would bring.
The Earth, a hapless victim to man's greed,
was ravaged to the point of no return;
we took from her far in excess of need,
and used her up with no thought or concern.
But Mother Earth has been around a while,
as countless forms of life have come and gone;
for giving in has never been her style—
she steeled herself, and vowed to carry on.
To raccommode the balance, mankind died;
the mother shrugged, and took it in her stride.
Author Notes |
Today's word: raccommode (v.) to restore, to put back into place.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Three days of walking, almost at an end;
one final mountain pass through which to wend.
A thousand steps until I reached the top,
to climb the long-awaited rock outcrop.
As up through Nellie's Glen I made my way,
I had no clue of perils which did lay
ahead of me; no knowledge had I gleaned
concerning the sanguisugent foul fiend
that lay in wait, my journey to disrupt,
nor of the mayhem that would soon erupt.
He'd set his sights upon my juicy vein,
his bloodthirsty intent was oh-so plain.
For centuries his kind on blood have fed,
and filled the souls of some with fear and dread;
yet, of such monsters, I was never scared—
just let the beast attack me, if he dared.
When of my fluids he had drunk his fill,
inside my chest, my heart was beating still.
He'd quenched his thirst, and silently moved on—
in truth, I was relieved to see him gone.
And legend has it he still haunts the Glen,
evoking terror in the hearts of men;
but if you see him, please don't scream or screech—
no harm can really come from one small leech.
Author Notes |
Today's word: sanguisugent (adj.) blood-sucking.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I felt just like a man who'd been found with his hand
buried deep in the old cookie jar;
when she fixed me a stare, as transfixed I stood there,
and she purred, "Sweetheart, take off my bra."
My discomfort grew worse, as I muttered a curse,
she adopted a tone that was mocking;
and I swear this is true, I would not lie to you—
"Now, my darling, please slip off my stockings."
Well it soon became clear, her intent was sincere,
and she understood upping the ante;
for she left me no choice, with her soft, sexy voice,
"Quickly honey, we don't need my panties!"
Shivviness disappeared, as she stood there and leered,
for in truth not a stitch did remain;
and I felt quite a fool, as she laid down this rule—
"Don't you dare wear my clothing again!"
Author Notes |
Perhaps it should be entitled "Victor's Secret", but I didn't want to give too much away. Some readers might recognise this as a very old joke (some might say, quite unkindly, rather like the author). I've just turned it into a poem, as I thought it suited the given word for today.
Today's word: shivviness (n.) the uncomfortable feeling of wearing new undergarments. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If only nauscopy were really true,
we'd know of ships ere they sailed into view.
Imagine if before you'd sighted land,
you knew on solid ground you soon would stand.
There's little doubt it could engender glee,
when choosing numbers for the lottery,
to know exactly those that will be picked;
financial woes? We'd have all of them licked.
Some say that they know what the future holds,
but I prefer to wait 'til it unfolds.
How would it be to know what lay ahead,
If in that vision you were stone cold dead?
Of course, that is the final fate of all;
but surely, it would really cast a pall
to view tomorrow as it were the past,
and find out that's when you would breathe your last.
So keep your precognition to yourself,
and leave the tarot cards upon the shelf;
yours is a game that I don't want to play,
I'll take this life and live it day to day.
Author Notes |
Today's word: nauscopy (n.) the alleged ability to spot a ship or land when it is over the horizon.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. - Ecclesiastes 1:9
Today's word: transnivean (adj.) beyond snow-capped mountains. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Holster weapons, pace it out
One more step, then turn about
Let 'im have it, draw and fire
Make room in the heav'nly choir
Goodness gracious, shot him dead
Ain't no arguing with lead
No one likes a gunless nit
God help me, I think I'm hit
Author Notes |
Today's word: holmgang (n.) a duel to the death.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Are you the victim of a strange malaise?
Perhaps you feel that life's passing you by.
It could be time you stopped counting the days,
and looked to Earth for answers, not the sky.
If you expect a future life, that's great;
we all need comfort thoughts to drive us on.
It's best, though, not to idle or stagnate—
before you know it, this life will be gone.
And when your bones again return to dust,
will those who knew you say you used your time
for good, as conscience dictates that we must;
or will a lack of action be your crime?
So treat each day as something fresh and new,
don't let that torpid tell-clock type be you.
Author Notes |
Today's word: tell-clock (n.) something or someone who marks or tells the time; an idler.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I'm a tanglefoot philosopher,
you should hear me opine
over a glass of finest malt,
but never a cheap wine.
I've solved the problems of the world
before the clock hit four,
then sped off to the liquor shop
for sev'ral bottles more.
The deepest matters that confound
the feeble mind of man—
who on this Earth can solve them?
Well, with rum on hand, I can!
Without the nectar of the gods,
life would be such a bitch;
so charge your glass, and drink with me—
in honour of "The Hitch".
Author Notes |
Today's word: tanglefoot (n.) whisky.
For what it's worth, and not that it's anyone's concern, I am a very occasional drinker. For some reason, I like to write poems about drink, so some could easily draw the wrong conclusion. I think limiting the intake increases the enjoyment. This poem is dedicated to the late, great Christopher Hitchens- a great modern philosopher, man of letters, newspaper and magazine columnist, public speaker and imbiber. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
I sometimes wish that things were different,
and I could lose this strange and awful curse;
believing good things must be heaven sent,
and bad ones sourced from somewhere so much worse.
That streets of gold await us when we die
(unless we have been bad and go below);
but I can't picture mansions in the sky,
nor why a loving god would wish us woe.
I just can't see my way to thinking that
the state of things we call reality
is based at all on where my mind is at,
or moulded by what I would wish to be.
A rainbow bridge? I just can't picture it;
no span you'll cross so we can reunite,
nor frolicking in fields forever lit
by sunlight, where all evils are set right.
I'd gladly wish far more than this for you,
my close companion, and my faithful friend;
but is it noble if it isn't true?
I must accept your life is at an end.
I'll take my comfort in the fact I know
you lived a long and happy life with me;
my love for you was always out on show,
from pain and suffering you now are free.
To honour you, and friendship so sublime,
I'll set reason aside for just one day;
and wish, as close I hold you one last time,
your vesp'ring spirit safely on its way.
Author Notes |
This is not prompted by any recent occurrence, but when there are 28 living beings you call "immediate family", and who share your home, death is never far away. It occurs relatively frequently here, and yet it never hurts any less. For some reason, today's word brought the above thoughts to mind.
Today's word: vespering (adj.) flying west, towards the sunset. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Buy two TVs, then class is no big deal,
and morganatic marriage works okay.
She eats her lobster, I enjoy my Spam;
then I watch football while she views ballet.
Author Notes |
Today's word: morganatic (adj.) designating a marriage between two people of unequal social rank.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. P.S. No, she doesn't really eat lobster, and I don't eat Spam. Come to think of it - I rarely watch football, and she doesn't watch ballet. OK, so the whole thing is a bald-faced lie -- sue me! :) |
By CD Richards
I believe it is far better to give out than to receive
I believe those punished without justice worthy of reprieve
I believe a man can be brought down by one small, wagging tongue
I believe the joys of youth are often wasted on the young
I believe that Churchill, though revered, could sometimes be quite trite
I believe of anaphora we have had our fill tonight
Author Notes |
Today's word: anaphora (n.) a figure of speech that repeats a sequence of words at the start of successive clauses.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
My speech are fine, just let it be,
I don't need no orthophony
to tell me what it's right to say,
if you say it some other way.
Would all the world be full of ills
If Spanish rain fell on the hills?
And would it be so very queer
if right there in good old Hampshire,
or Hereford or Hartford towns,
the residents acquired frowns
when Henry's musings came unpinned,
and they all got a touch of wind?
Phonetics Nazis let me be,
'cuz I can speak right properly,
without no help from likes of you...
well, that's this fella's point of view.
Coming, Eliza?
Author Notes |
The picture shows Rex Harrison (Professor Henry Higgins) and Julie Andrews (Eliza Doolittle) from the original Broadway and London performances of My Fair Lady. Audrey Hepburn replaced Andrews in the movie.
If you are familiar with the movie, this could make sense to you. If not, it probably won't. I've drawn heavily on two phrases Henry Higgins uses while attempting to improve Eliza's elocution: The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain; and In Hertford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen. Today's word: orthophony (n.) perfectly correct speaking or enunciation. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I once owned a computer store in town,
in truth, the place would sometimes get me down;
as with the tale I now repeat to you—
a story which is altogether true.
The strangest sight I've seen in many years,
a boy of twelve years old reduced to tears.
His grandma said, and quite to my dismay,
without his PC, he'd not last the day.
Of sick computers I had quite a few,
I told her she would have to join the queue.
She begged and pleaded, stomped and carried on,
in truth I wished that she would just be gone.
I hid my sadness as I said, "I'll try"—
I really hate to see a schoolboy cry.
But how I wanted to have words with Nan,
advising how to deal with this young man.
I took a guess he'd seldom seen the sun,
he didn't look the type to often run.
It seemed he always stayed inside to play,
I wanted to take her aside and say:
"Just let him fly a kite or kick a ball,
or play impromptu squash against a wall;
no need for endless hours on the Wii,
or watching Seinfeld reruns on TV.
A morning swim and then a mountain hike;
or else, maybe a ride upon his bike.
Ask those who know, they'll happily attest,
extraforaneous pleasures are the best."
Instead, that day I fixed the lad's machine;
got back his internet, the virus cleaned.
I dutifully did as I was bid,
knowing I'd done no favours for the kid.
Though I believe devices have their place,
and having them to use is no disgrace;
I wish she'd shown more int'rest in his play,
and sometimes let him see the light of day.
Author Notes |
Today's word: extraforaneous (adj.) outdoors.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There's little doubt that most enjoy accumulating things,
like dolls, or spoons, or painted landscape views.
We get enjoyment from their presence when we have them near,
although they're things that we may never use.
But though such baubles bring us joy, and knick-knacks are a treat,
the best of trinkets are not made from stuff;
at auction, they would nothing fetch, raise not a single bid,
their tiny housing's plenty room enough—
a maze of twisting passages joined by synaptic links,
this wunderkammer world that is our mind;
a curio collection formed of strange, nomadic thoughts,
which stand alone, and yet, are all entwined.
Like, "Why are things improbable occurring all the time?",
and, "Would it cause us grief to feed the poor?",
or "Can the smartest species really do such stupid things?",
"Was Orwell right with Nineteen-Eighty-Four?"
From time to time we take them down and dust them off with care,
and then back to the shelf they must return.
They may not matter very much to anybody else,
And yet, arranging them is how we learn.
Author Notes |
Today's word: wunderkammer (n.) a collection of oddities.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: boot-hale (v.) to plunder or pillage.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
With complex thought, this man does struggle
No wizard, he's certainly muggle
But despite his big gob
He's not up to the job
Now his country is in a curfuggle
Author Notes |
Today's word: curfuggle (n.) a confused mess; disorder, disarray.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It seems that humanity's psyche is one
that seeks to deny all those things which are fun;
preferring instead to make war and oppress,
our sheep-biting ways are the cause of much stress.
Yet how we malign the poor innocent dog,
comparing its work to our sad catalogue
of treacheries, subterfuge, lies and deceit—
a slanderous grab-bag we lay at its feet.
For never did canine through greed or through spite
in malice go looking for someone to fight.
Behaviours they've learned have all come from the pack,
where instinct dictates they must learn to attack.
Supposedly we are much smarter than they,
accountable for our deeds come judgement day;
so why are the kings and the queens in this plot
a violent, self-absorbed, arrogant lot?
There's no need to look to our comrades with paws
to find wicked acts, without reason or cause.
I must have missed something, I guess I'm obtuse—
forgive me for asking, but what's our excuse?
Author Notes |
Image by Chuan Chew - CC2.0 licence - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/
Today's word: sheep-biting (n.) treacherous, underhand behaviour. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. The use of the word sheep-biter to describe someone who is treacherous comes from a dog who is tasked with herding sheep, but bites or nips at them -- much to the chagrin of the person who gave it that responsibility. This poem questions the appropriateness of the term. I'm getting a bit tired of my new book. I do like it, and it has some great words. But it seems to me that it has far more than its fair share of entries describing offensive character traits, or undesirable actions. These are fairly common themes in my poems anyway, so I hardly need encouragement to do more of the same. If you're hoping for more "rainbow and butterfly" words - so am I! Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: abscotchalater (n.) someone hiding from the police.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: gifture (n. or v.) refers to a gift, or the act of giving.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
On that first day, the Spirit moved,
and so was born in space
a formless, empty, swirling mass,
with darkness on its face.
A vibrant sky of blue appeared
above the Earth's great sea;
beyond it, on the second day,
a water canopy.
Day three, the waters gathered to
uncover solid land,
and seas took shape with guidance from
the Architect's great hand.
The fourth day of creation gave
the sun its fiery light,
and then the moon was fashioned to
illuminate the night.
As birds took flight with beating wings
and made the sky alive,
aquatic life filled up the seas,
and so did end day five.
The Maker's work was almost done
as morning broke, day six;
from dust, land creatures then were formed
and added to the mix.
Yet there was something missing, the
Creator could not rest;
for none of these fine animals
was clearly stand-out best.
But as the Lord God vocalised,
to speak one into being;
a fierce and mighty singultus
sent all the creatures fleeing.
Alas! We see what woe was wrought
from one hiccup divine;
a word misspoke was no small joke—
nor its effect benign.
Instead of something wonderful,
things did not go to plan;
for from a slip was born that day,
the creature known as "man".
Now, in creation, all is great
and wondrous to behold;
save one thing that may seal Earth's fate
and see this world grow cold.
The steward Yahweh planned to use
to subjugate and rule,
of all the creatures is the one
it's right to label "fool".
Here ends the tale of what once was,
and what could well have been;
do you suppose Elohim thinks,
"I wish I could start clean?"
Author Notes |
singultus (n.) a hiccup.
"Been" is pronounced the same as "bean", and thus is a perfect rhyme for "clean" in my part of the world :) Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Republicans may say it's just a drag
to have the Union Jack upon our flag;
but there are many who would rue the loss
if it no longer held the Southern Cross.
Some wish it bore a blazing yellow sun,
my thinking's that, when all is said and done
the world rotates, and other days will dawn,
without a flagpole standing on my lawn.
If I enstaffed a banner it would fly
depicting concepts I'd want to stand by;
like peace and safety to all on these shores,
and to the persecuted, open doors.
The worth of fairness, tolerance and truth;
that bigotry is never, ever couth.
May sense, not dogma, rule our way of life,
and let us not rejoice in others' strife.
But symbolism has its limits too;
our true intents are not out in plain view.
Does cloth bear stars or stripes or spots?
As far as I'm concerned, it matters not.
I'm not a bumper-sticker kind of guy,
and I don't really care what flag you fly;
just offer friendship, leave behind all hate,
and you'll be welcomed stepping through my gate.
Author Notes |
Today's word: enstaff (v.) to hoist a flag.
I didn't post this because of "flag day" in the U.S. - it was the word my book offered, so I had to go with the theme. I really don't think it would hurt anyone, anywhere, if there was a little less flag-waving in the world, and a little more reasoned discussion. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
So, what's this thing you're asking me to sign?
I've never in my life been so appalled;
God gave me rights as King, I'll have you know,
now greedy barons want those rights recalled.
My heavy heart gives in to your demands,
and once it's done, perhaps we can move on;
no peace nor rest will I enjoy again
until this evil, baying throng is gone.
At Runnymede today, I sign my name;
let all of England hang its head in shame.
Author Notes |
Today's word: sign-manual (n.) a signature.
On 15th June 1215, in the face of increasing pressure from powerful barons and threats of civil war, King John signed the Magna Carta, thus officially limiting the power of kings. This tells the story from King John's point of view, not the author's. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
My purr-box is in finest form tonight,
relax, and let me soothe your tortured soul.
Know this: I've got your troubles sorted now,
good vibes from me to you will make you whole.
No need to pay a shrink to set you right,
a therapeutic feline's what I am.
One thing, I'd really love a little snack,
so be a sweetheart, go get me some ham.
Author Notes |
Today's word: mrkgnao (n.) a cat's meow.
Yes, apparently it's a real word, first coined by James Joyce in his novel Ulysses (which I haven't read). One of several spellings he employs throughout the novel. I've used the plural form, as I hate trying to rhyme poems with an odd number of lines (limericks excepted). I hope Dawn will forgive me! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: gaping-stock (n.) someone or something being stared at by a crowd.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The night creatures depend on moonlight when they're on the hunt,
it lights the midnight dance of waves along the waterfront;
guides ocean vessels through the harbour, safely to the pier;
while spiders dine on mothy meals in luminescence clear.
Yet noctilucy is devoured by light-polluted fog
and feebly struggles to appear through thick brown clouds of smog.
The city's multicoloured lights hold little charm for me,
and halogen street lamps make it impossible to see
the dazzling blanket up above, the jewel-encrusted sky,
the meteors and comets as they silently race by.
I'd love to see you once again, and share a glass of wine,
to reminisce and share a joke would lift this heart of mine;
but I can't bear to leave my wondrous star-filled sky so bright—
so if you'd like my company, why not join me tonight?
Head west, across the mountains, to a crisp, clear night in June;
together we can contemplate the shining of the moon.
Author Notes |
noctilucy (n.) the shining of the moon.
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
He motioned my car to a stop
and asked, "Sir, have you had a drop?"
"You fool, I don't drink!"
Now I'm in the clink—
don't ever insult an esclop.
Author Notes |
Image by Highway Patrol Images (HB 203 'STOP POLICE" signaling cars to pull in) [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.
Today's word: esclop (n.) police officer. This is from The Concise New Partridge Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English: esclop noun a police officer. However, the "c" is not pronounced, and the "e" is generally omitted, thus "slop". First noted by Henry Mayhew in London and the London Poor 1851. UK, 1851. P.S. I'm aware that if you pronounce "esclop" as indicated in my previous note, then the meter is wrong. However, I'm thinking pretty much everyone will pronounce it as written, and I don't want to deal with complaints from people who didn't read the note ;-) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: polymicrian (adj.) extremely cramped; containing a great deal in a small space.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Image credit: By Basheer Olakara (Mothers love) [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
malison (n.) a curse. |
By CD Richards
Quite brilliant were they, and their talents not hidden
We bow to the genius of Soule, Sholes and Glidden
Enthralled, the world watched this event so exciting
Revealing a wonderful adjunct to writing
Type-writing-machine, such a boon to the writer
You've made this old world just a little bit brighter
Usurped in the end by the boring computer
I found your mechanics to be so much cuter
Oh, pity the poor wretched next generation
Performing their task at a heartless workstation!
Author Notes |
QWERTYUIOP (n.) The standard QWERTY keyboard layout. Before it was known as the "qwerty" keyboard, the term "qwertyuiop" was actually used as a name for the layout.
Pronounced qwerty-you-ee-op, according to Jones' The Cabinet of Linguistic Curiosities. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A demon on the dance floor, I'm a John Travolta clone;
in three-piece suit and platform shoes— prepare to be mind-blown.
My down and dirty dancing is a knockout with the chicks,
and though they'd gladly pay me, I just do it for the kicks.
Now Fred Astaire's got nothing on this hepcat Sydney kid;
although I'm modest, sometimes a real talent can't be hid.
A foxtrot, breakdance, pas de deux — well, you just take your choice;
don't cheer too loud, resist the urge, you must protect your voice.
Since I was little, I've embraced choreomania;
I'd humbly say that I'm the best in all Australia.
Now you may wonder why I think that dancing's such a treat;
but you most likely were not born possessing two left feet!
Author Notes |
Today's word: choreomania (n.) a mania for dancing.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, I really don't like this cold weather;
for the wind dries my skin like old leather.
Tell my work I'll be late,
for this lad must hiemate;
if you like, we could stay home together.
Author Notes |
Today's word: hiemate (v.) to spend the winter.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes | decapulate (v.) to pour liquid from one vessel into another; decant. |
By CD Richards
You look to me to speak "The Truth",
like I'm some sort of moral sleuth;
in fact, I'm just a tad uncouth,
the product of a misspent youth—
I'm just a muggle.
Now dead folk don't commune with me
and I cannot the future see;
the leaves left over from your tea
do not reveal great mystery—
one skeptic muggle.
I cannot boast a Holy Ghost
within; I'm no compliant host.
No Spirit guides me day to day,
so I just stumble on my way—
a heathen muggle.
But I'd not swap uncertainty
for all the very finest tea
in China, if I had to be
in deference, on bended knee
to someone that I cannot see.
And so, that's it, to you from me—
Your fellow muggle.
Author Notes |
muggle: (n.) a person who lacks a particular skill or skills, or who is regarded as inferior in some way (Oxford English Dictionary).
The meaning given in "The Cabinet" of muggle is "a fish's tail", which apparently dates back to the thirteenth century. However, I like the meaning of the word as portrayed by JK Rowling - a person lacking magical powers, and it is this meaning I've used here. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
What mechanism drives the human mind,
compelling us to always be unkind?
For even viruses cooperate,
they have no use for concepts such as hate.
Yet we, it seems, are never satisfied
unless we've joined a team or picked a side.
The love of Aphrodite we eschew,
we see the world from Ares' point of view.
Our lives are ruled by one chief stratagem:
to find the things dividing us from them;
though we might claim it's our side that has won,
Mavortian madness brings us all undone.
The gene for stupid rules, it is quite plain;
its tendrils threaded deep throughout our brain.
Will we catch on, ere we drift out of sight?
The simple truth is, no one wins a fight.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Marvortian (adj.) warlike.
The word is derived from Mars, the Roman God of war. In Greek mythology, he is known as Ares. Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love, who was known as Venus by the Romans. The human desire for conflict astounds me. We glorify and celebrate humans destroying each other. We make killers our heroes. We view the world as "those who are for me, and those who are against me". We don't seem to be able to comprehend existence without looking at it through such a prism. Every single mythology seems to have warfare between gods and between people as its pivotal theme. It's bizarre. End of rant. Thanks for reading :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image by dbking (originally posted to Flickr as [1]) [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word(s): Carthaginian Peace (n.) a peace settlement imposing severe penalties on the defeated parties.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Image: By C T Johansson [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], from Wikimedia Commons
Today's word: scathefire (n.) a vast, destructive conflagration. There are 173 different species of Banksia plant - named after Joseph Banks, the botanist who discovered them. All but one are native only to Australia. What makes these plants unusual is that they are extremely good at surviving bushfires that destroy most other flora. From Wikipedia: About half of Banksia species typically survive bushfires, either because they have very thick bark that protects the trunk from fire, or because they have lignotubers from which they can resprout after fire. In addition, fire triggers the release of seed stored in the aerial seed bank -- an adaptation known as serotiny. I recently wrote my first ever tanka. As a result of that effort, I decided I really needed to improve my skills with this form. So I plan to do a fair bit of practice with the entries for my "Pot Pourri" book. This is my second attempt at the form. Please feel free to offer criticism or suggestions for improvement. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When we confine ourselves behind a wall
our life experience is drab and mean.
Consider all the wonders we can find
by taking in the vista transpontine.
A xenophobic outlook never has
enhanced the lives of those who are shut in.
It's time to set to work on spanning voids
and then both sides can take away a win.
Author Notes |
This poem marks the half-way point in my project. Whether I make it to the other side remains to be seen. It's been an interesting journey, thanks to those who have shared it with me.
Image by neiljs (Soca valley, Slovenia, uploaded by Sporti) [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons. Today's word: transpontine (adj.) located on the opposite side of a bridge. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
BASIC is a backronym
And SPECTRE is one too
CIA abbreviates
KGB? No clue!
Regarding acronyms, NATO
Ought be known as such
NASA is another one
You clearer now? Not
Much!
Author Notes |
Today's word: backronym (n.) an acronym explanation invented for a word that is not an acronym.
According to my exhaustive research (10 minutes on Google), there are at least three distinct terms for what are usually all lumped in under the umbrella of "acronym". There are true acronyms, such as NASA and NATO. The word is derived from the initial letters of other words, but is pronounced as written. Then there are initialisms, which are also words formed by the initial letters of other words, but they are just read as a string of letters; for example, FBI, CIA and KGB. Lastly, there are backronyms -- words like SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion ; the super secret agency in James Bond books - hence the British spelling), LISA; the name of the first Apple computer, allegedly based on Local Integrated Software Architecture; and BASIC (the programming language; Beginner's All-purpose Symbolic Instruction Code). What all these backronyms have in common is that real words existed before the abbreviation, and the abbreviation was simply made up to fit the word. Steve Jobs revealed that Lisa was, in fact, his daughter's name. And you thought it was simple! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The troglodytes, from up on high,
prepare to divvy up the pie
and not a bit surprisingly they take
the lion's share, and leave but crumbs
for all the workers, dads and moms,
and wisely counsel thus— "Let them eat cake!"
From trickle-down, there's no reprieve,
the rich would have us all believe
the way ahead's to exploit and devour;
reward their greed and starve the poor,
show those requesting help the door;
their meditullium is rank and sour.
But, as before, their day will come,
you can't treat normal folk like scum,
like they exist to fund your pension plan.
Ere long we'll see the tide will turn,
it's not beyond our kind to learn.
With care this pie can nourish ev'ry man.
Author Notes |
Today's word: meditullium (n.) the absolute middle or core of something.
Alas, my high school's approach to teaching languages ensured I never learned French, but I do recognise a few popular phrases. I also believe there is some contention over whether Marie ever said these words, and over the literal meaning. I don't think these issues are important from the point of view of this poem. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Poor young Phil was quite misunderstood
and detested his own neighbourhood.
So he did something strange,
undertook a tree change;
cosmognosis changed Phillip for good.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cosmognosis (n.) the natural instinct that tells a creature when to migrate.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
On a monadnock somewhere south-east of Tibet
sits an ageing guru chanting mantras in space,
while a new-age disciple of Peale reels them in;
he will sell you success, with a smile on his face.
As the priest from his pulpit says prayers for your soul
and the altarboy seeks to make sense of his world,
the whole sermon's concerned with the wages of sin;
so then, why are your wrongs, not the clergy's, unfurled?
Each must find their own way, and in that I believe,
but my mentor wears neither a cassock nor smock;
for my teacher's experience— all I have learned
was delivered to me by the hands of a clock.
With good judgement and luck we will learn as we grow
and assimilate knowledge as time passes by;
Yet we strive for enlightenment, but with a catch—
well before we attain it, we're destined to die.
For our life is but brief, and too soon it is done,
and what happens has often no reason nor rhyme;
but within lies the key to find meaning in life—
with experience, thought and the passage of time.
Time is the great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its students. — Hector Berlioz
Author Notes |
What's that? Armchair philosopher, you say? How rude!
This morning, I was reading (of all things) a book about currency trading, and came across the above quote from the famous musician, Berlioz. Then, I looked at my "word for the day", monadnock, and somehow the two combined to produce this. Thanks for reading. Today's word: monadnock (n.) an isolated hill or mountain. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image source: http://bestanimations.com/HomeOffice/Clocks/Clocks.html Note: "judgement" and "ageing" are British spellings. |
By CD Richards
I love a paw-paw President,
though I am not a resident;
I think to have one would be so much fun.
When Tangerine is getting horny,
make a call and summon Stormy—
got to keep the wowsers on the run.
For what could better demonstrate
a God-appointed Head of State
than one given to loving and romance?
Just think what turmoil you'd be facing
if Don got none when pulse was racing,
forced to keep his whatsit in his pants.
Now, some may find this quite offensive,
(litigation is expensive!)
perhaps I should retract these unkind words;
but let me ask you, what is worse—
a silly bit of nonsense verse,
or one who keeps his paramours in herds?
Now please don't think I'm putting down
a porn-star model, please don't frown;
the choice is hers as to what she calls work;
but I'm surprised this Pres from heaven
can't abide commandment seven;
could it be that he is just a [fill in ending of your own choice]?
Author Notes |
Today's word: paw-paw (n.) without a hyphen, pawpaw refers to a fruit. With a hyphen, it means nasty, improper, contemptible, immoral or obscene. Perhaps it's no coincidence that the flesh of a pawpaw is bright orange?
Just to be clear, who anyone sleeps with is their own business (and that of any "partners" they may have), as far as I'm concerned - regardless of their domestic status. Extra-marital relationships don't bother me so much as dishonesty and hypocrisy. It seems to me that those who claim the current US President is some sort of "Godsend", when he clearly has no respect whatsoever for at least eleven of the ten commandments, must (or should) suffer, at the very minimum, from some sort of cognitive dissonance. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
In swirling eddies formed inside a deeply troubled mind,
migrating down synaptic pathways, bound for who-knows-where,
meander thoughts of violence, the urge to be unkind,
each one attesting to the owner's total lack of care.
Maleficence is all he knows, the need to induce pain;
of goodness and compassion he is totally devoid.
Remember me, his actions cry, his narcissism plain,
invoking thoughts of charity just make this man annoyed.
And then, one day, her patience gone, his victim cries, Enough!
Let's get this business done with, for it's time to call it quits.
No mercy shown, she demonstrates he's really not so tough,
exacting vengeance as she rips his stinking hide to bits.
Some future generation will relate how he was caught;
since no one can recall his name, he lived his life for naught.
Author Notes |
Today's word: immemorialness (n.) the quality of something that makes it unmemorable or beyond memory.
If there is a more vile, pointless creature on the face of the planet than the trophy hunter, I don't know what it is. I woke to the news today that the bodies of several rhino poachers had been found. They had been eaten by lions. Good news days don't come round all that often, but today is one. I guess this was on my mind as I wrote this. It made me think of all the stories of the trophy-hunters that cross our path with sickening regularity these days. Most of them want to be famous. So, apart from them meeting a more gruesome end than their innocent victims, what could be better than they die in total obscurity, and the name associated with their evil deeds is completely forgotten? I think the poem might be equally applicable if the victim happens to be a human. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Just how does one utter 'Augean'?
The answer is not nice and clean.
I haven't a clue;
please tell me, do you?
It's the darnedest word I've ever seen!
Author Notes |
I pity anyone who didn't grow up in an English speaking household, trying to learn the language later in life. I thought I knew how to pronounce the word Augean, but due diligence demanded, before I wrote a verse incorporating it, I should check. Imagine my surprise when the first four sources I checked pronounced it four different ways! These were as follows:
or-JEE-an (my initial assumption) OR-jee-an or-JEAN or-JAIN My confidence rattled, I was then inclined to check my spelling of "darndest" - which is just as well, as it would appear although both are acceptable, "darnedest" is the more common spelling. And, of course, both are just informal representations of "damnedest". Conclusion? The English language is a cesspit of misappropriated and mispronounced bits of other languages, which makes today's word entirely appropriate. Today's word: Augean (n.) horrendously filthy. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. P.S. If someone complains about slant rhymes or the rhyme being off, I think I just might go postal :-) |
By CD Richards
A desert hangar, called Eighteen, contains a full film set,
where government performed the most outrageous hoax to date;
conspiring to decult perhaps the biggest secret yet—
they faked the lunar landing. True, I heard it from my mate!
Now, Roswell hides another truth the public cannot know,
those stories of balloons and weather instruments are bunk.
Crash-landing UFOs were found there in New Mexico,
the buildings there are metres deep in bodies and space junk.
To travel many trillion miles, across the universe,
is quite an engineering feat, one we can't undertake.
To future visitors, this warning, simple and quite terse:
for goodness' sake, before you leave, you'd better check the brake!
Author Notes |
Today's word: decult (v.) to hide something; to keep something secret.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
By Capitol Hill, there does blow an ill wind;
it's troubling times for the right's wunderkind.
For, long undetected, a sleeper's lain dormant—
the Pentagon's home to a Russian informant!
When papers went missing, alarm bells rang out;
there's mischief in Washington, be in no doubt.
Some treasonous, treacherous, scheming Boy Jones
has stolen State secrets and bugged all the phones.
But we're gonna fix it, this awful affair;
we've sent out a call to one Wayne LaPierre.
So soon, this despicable servant of Putin
will go to his grave when old Wayne starts a-shootin'.
He's gonna blast holes in that traitorous flesh
when he makes his stand beside Dana Loesch.
There's very few problems, perhaps not a one,
that can't be resolved by the use of a gun.
* * * * * *
Alas, not one miscreant will suffer from harm;
I grudgingly woke to my clock's shrill alarm.
No need for concern, all is well, and it seems
that all this commotion was just cowboy dreams.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Boy Jones (n.) a secret informant.
Wayne LaPierre: Head of the NRA, renowned for heartless comments about victims of gun violence. Dana Loesch: Female face of the NRA. Hand-picked to demonstrate that women can be just as obnoxious as their male counterparts. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
From Saudi dunes we come to understand
that light plays tricks upon the desert sand.
As heat haze shimmers and the landscape sears,
a lawrence of Arabia appears.
Author Notes |
This is a decasyllabic quatrain in iambic pentameter, also known as a heroic or elegiac quatrain. Although some sources (https://www.britannica.com/art/heroic-stanza) state that heroic stanzas should be of the rhyme scheme ABAB, other sites (http://www.literarydevices.com/quatrain/) permit AABB, AABA and ABCB, among others. Doubtless, Omar Khayyam and Robert Frost would be pleased to hear that.
Today's word: lawrence (n.) a shimmering heat haze. Although my poem cheekily refers to Colonel Thomas Edward Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia), that is not where the term lawrence to describe the desert phenomenon comes from. It has its origins in Lawrence of Rome, an archdeacon who was roasted to death in 258 AD for refusing to hand over the church's assets to Emperor Valerian. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Picture: By Columbia Pictures [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. |
By CD Richards
As she settled down for a doze,
he taunted, "Guess where this thing goes!"
She slapped him quite hard,
said, "Sleep in the yard."
He whimpered, "Don't be a bluenose."
Author Notes |
Today's word: bluenose (n.) a strict prude; a priggish, puritanical person.
I'm informed limericks should be bawdy. This is about as bawdy as I'm going to get on this site. My other half has a far greater repertoire than I do -- her uncle was a sailor in the British navy. The great thing about this posting is, if anyone complains, I have the perfect word to throw back at them ;-) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: decurt (v.) to shorten; to abridge.
Is anyone else wondering why, if "curt" means brief, or short, then "decurt" doesn't mean to make longer? I guess it's the old "flammable/inflammable" argument, all over again. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
If thunder clouds roll in and turn the landscape drab and grey
Or yet again the news predicts impending judgement day
When I believe we've reached the limits of stupidity
But one more senseless act restores a grim reality
I have a place I go to, where the world is fresh and clean
Where palm trees line a shore of sand, so white and so pristine
An insulet unreachable by those who would deny
The peace I crave, where I can't hear the raucous battle-cry
Of those who seek to win the fight, and stand in victory
Defending honour, country, justice, truth and liberty
When all they really want is something no one else can share
A sense of privilege turns out to be their cross to bear
But on this sun-drenched island, I have built a mighty fort
Its barriers cannot be breached, nor entrance to it bought
I spend the day in peace and safety, somewhere they can't find
There's refuge in this citadel, it's hidden in my mind
Author Notes |
Today's word: insulet (n.) a small island.
Punctuation is deliberately sparse. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The Trump Tower warriors, brave and adventurous, leave with a view to a kill;
their dreams filled with visions of wall-mounted trophies, to show off their courage and skill.
The real estate agent, all decked out in camo gear, pictures the pride on the run;
as Bill, the accountant, gets slightly excited, exchanging his pen for a gun.
The lions, on seeing them, lick their lips happily; commenting, "This is just fine."
"We'll run them around, 'til their ammo's depleted, and then on their flesh we can dine."
Back in the Big Apple, the grief-stricken families get the bad news on the phone;
in no time at all, the press run with the story; resembling a dog with a bone.
You may think me awful; when asked for a comment, I happily answer, "Who cares?"
"I'm glad that these morons encountered acharnement quite easily equal to theirs."
For what it's worth, I'm quite contented to leave it to their grieving loved ones to weep;
my mother once told me, when I was just little, "For as ye sow, so shall ye reap."
Author Notes |
Today's word: acharnement (n.) bloodthirsty enthusiasm.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image: By Derek Keats from Johannesburg, South Africa [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: triglot (n.) a book or text written in three languages; someone who speaks three languages.
The most famous example of a triglot is the Rosetta Stone, a large stone slab found in Egypt in 1799, bearing inscriptions in two different Egyptian scripts and Ancient Greek. It was this stone which became the key to deciphering all Egyptian hieroglyphics. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
So, who would like to basiate with me?
I need someone who'll basiate for free.
When I was young, my mother banned
all basiation out of hand;
until I reached at least age twenty-three.
Some say that suaviating is a sin,
I only ever suaviate with kin.
I tried it once with cousin Claire,
she kicked me in the you-know-where;
it seems that sometimes I just cannot win.
Now osculating isn't all that bad,
and never osculating can be sad;
if we get down and osculate,
I promise that I won't relate
a word about it to your mum or dad.
Oh come on, honey, don't be such a priss;
it isn't such a huge deal doing this.
I needn't be the only one,
so how about a bit of fun?
I'm only asking for a little kiss!
Author Notes |
Yes, that's right folks - basiate, suaviate and osculate all mean the same thing... to kiss.
Fun trivia: Kissing was banned by an English act of parliament in 1439. Not so silly as it sounds; it was a (successful) attempt to minimise the spread of the plague. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Steganograms were always his forte
The solving of a puzzle his delight
Enigma held no terrors for his mind
German forces, bound to lose the fight
A codebreaker was he, one without peer
Numbers, pattern, words were child's play
One morn they found him dead inside his room
Great was the loss to humankind that day
Regrettably, those were benighted times
And prejudice was globally in vogue
Many years too late we realised
Some heroes have unjustly been called rogue
Author Notes |
Today's word: steganogram (n.) a coded text or message.
The subject today is puzzles and hidden messages, so I think it's only appropriate I leave it to readers to find the message and decipher it (optional, of course). Some research may be necessary, if you don't know the story. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I'd love a country mansion made of stone,
just like the one in To the Manor Born;
a palace that was mine and mine alone,
surrounded by a green and rolling lawn.
I'd lay in bed surveying fields so lush
and contemplate what I should do today;
sip tea brought to me by my yellowplush—
perhaps a spot of polo or croquet?
Alas, inside my mouth when I was born,
there was no sign at all of silver spoon,
and any cash I get come Monday morn
is well and truly gone by Tuesday noon.
It pays to make the most of simple joys;
the rest I'll disregard as so much noise.
Author Notes |
Yellowplush: (n.) a footman.
Photo by simka (https://www.panoramio.com/photo/10751353) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
This story is not a distortion,
a ship set to sea without caution.
In twain it was cleft,
just lagan was left—
a wreck of Titanic proportion.
Author Notes |
Today's word: lagan (n.) goods or wreckage lying on the sea bed.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Our Earth is dying due to our neglect;
the atmosphere's been choked by CO2.
All oxygen departed long ago;
it's time we found ourselves a home that's new.
So off to Mars we go adventuring
in spaceships, headed for the new frontier;
expecting we can build a brave new world,
but still, the future's very far from clear.
Is ecopoiesis mankind's last hope?
I tend to think it's just the same old song;
it seems to me, there's very little doubt—
we'll screw Mars up as well, then move along.
Author Notes |
Ecopoiesis (n.) the establishing of a functioning ecosystem on a lifeless planet.
There is much excitement about plans to establish a human colony on Mars. Some view this as the last hope for humanity, as we complete the inevitable and imminent destruction of this world. I have a slightly different viewpoint. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: www.goodfreephotos.com (public domain). |
By CD Richards
His pelmatogram is quite impressive,
(and this claim is in no way excessive);
for he's got a big foot,
best avoid where it's put;
getting flattened can be quite depressive!
Author Notes |
Today's word: pelmatogram (n.) a footprint.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: handfast (adj.) manacled; shackled.
The use of the term handfast in relation to marriage dates back to at least the 11th century. Even then, it appears it was viewed as a form of confinement ;-) In more recent times, the term has been used to describe a commitment ceremony often celebrated as a neo-pagan ritual. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you straight that I
am mostly quite an affable and gentle kind of guy;
but there are just a few small things that cause my blood to boil,
so If you want to keep your place upon this mortal coil
then you must realise that life consists of take and give;
now listen close, pay careful heed, and you will get to live.
When you have finished shopping for your weekly household needs,
I beg you in the name of all that's holy, pretty please...
don't join the line which bears a sign, "For ten items or less"
with twenty items in your cart, you'll only cause me stress.
And though I know it's sensible to utter not a peep,
I'm far more likely to cry out, "Just learn to count, you creep!"
While stopped at traffic signals, I consider it bizarre
if deafened by the thumping of the speakers in your car;
and when I'm drinking coffee in my favourite cafés
the last thing that I want to hear's the crap your boombox plays.
So buy some headphones and enjoy it quietly instead,
and then I won't be wishing I could beat you round the head.
Now one of life's true pleasures is found at the cinema;
of all the ways one can unwind, it leads the pack by far.
But if you choose to view a film while I am also there,
I'd like to make a wee request (one which I think's quite fair):
just one small thing, a trifling ask, if you could be so kind...
to leave your screaming, tantrum-throwing, snot-nosed brat behind.
And if you're prone to chewing gum, well, that's your business, bud;
although you look to me quite like a cow that chews its cud.
But if you choose to throw it out while walking down the street,
and then, by chance, I step in it, your maker you'll soon meet;
for nothing will more quickly make me want to murder you
than your saliva sticking to the bottom of my shoe.
So there we have it, I am done, I think I've made my point;
some simple things promoting peace and order in the joint.
For any kind and gentle soul will see these acts are wrong;
avoid them, and assuredly, we're bound to get along.
We need to reach agreement, of these crimes we will have none;
until the State adbjudicates them, each and ev'ry one.
Author Notes |
I think it's been possibly hours now since I last properly offended someone - time to fix that!
Abjudicate: To ban; to prohibit by rule of law. Please note the spelling above. It isn't a misspelling of "adjudicate", which means to make a formal judgement about. There is a subtle difference in meaning. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Obstreperousness is his middle name
Pontification, his one claim to fame
It seems there is no topic which
Need cause his faculties a glitch
Impossible? To him it's all the same
A more enlightened soul, you'll never meet
To tangle with his genius mind, a treat
Regretfully, it's sometimes best
Eschewing argument for rest
Seems know-it-all is, for the present, beat.
Author Notes |
Today's word: opiniatre (n). an opinionated person.
Go on, say it - I dare you! As far as I can tell, this is a French word, and doesn't appear in English dictionaries. Nevertheless, it's in my book, so must be used. I've employed the plural form. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Some people think that submarines are best;
I've never put that theory to the test.
Deep under water's not the place to be,
Enjoying life up top is more for me.
Reclining on a deckchair is great fun;
One ice-cold drink, a book and lots of sun.
Does driving on the freeway make you high,
Relax you as the countryside rolls by?
Or does a trip by plane appeal to you?
Magnificent, from miles up, is the view.
One thing I ask, I hope it's not in vain;
Please never make me climb aboard a train.
How awful are those tunnels in the dark?
One could be far too nervous to embark!
Besides, they're often noisy, dirty things;
I'd rather travel in a craft with wings.
A mass of fears are forming in my head;
Considering all this, I'll walk instead.
Author Notes |
Today's word: siderodromophobia (n.) the fear of rail travel.
Yes, it's a real word! I do believe Mr Paul Anthony Jones hates me. I decided that a 17 letter word of eight syllables wasn't nearly long enough - so I added the "C" to make it a person who suffers from the fear of trains. Also, I decided it was unfair to expect readers to come across this word and actually pronounce it, so I did it in the form of an acrostic :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I have a friend whose claim to fame
is writing plays (all much the same).
They're witty, charming, most amusing;
the plots are not at all confusing.
His characters, though much adored,
have all the presence of cardboard.
No history, where are they from?
They hail from old Sardoodledom.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Sardoodledom (n.) well-made but contrived or trivial works for theatre.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I'm not a misocapnist, not at all;
what you do to your lungs is not my call.
If smoking makes you happy then
why must I be a pecking hen?
Such actions drive a person up the wall.
If you enjoy a little drink or two,
then surely that is best left up to you;
If wine produces such a beast,
then why was it, at Cana's feast,
'twas good enough to serve to that milieu?
And why the awful need for fear and dread
because of what some folk prefer in bed?
If you're obsessed with wrong and sin,
then feel quite free to not join in—
watch Jimmy Swaggart on the box instead.
I hope that you will not misunderstand,
I'm not suggesting piety be banned;
but when we focus for too long
upon things "they" are doing wrong,
could it be that our own life's out of hand?
For, long ago, I heard a someone opine,
(reportedly of origins divine)
it isn't right that I decry
the mote within my brother's eye,
and disregard the giant beam in mine.
Author Notes |
Today's word: misocapnist (n.) someone who hates tobacco smoke.
Seeing today's word brought up a pet peeve of mine (yes, I know, hard to believe, but I have one or two). It is this - how much time and effort is wasted in telling every one of us what we may or may or not do? It's all-pervasive. You can drink this, but not that. You may not inhale this, but we've found something new, and that's perfectly OK. Don't eat this, it will kill you. Don't say this, you might offend someone. And don't ever even think this... am I ranting again? lol It seems not only are we all living in a nanny state nowadays, but we are all so obsessed with what everyone else can't do. Wouldn't it be great if we just worried about sorting ourselves out? Thanks for listening, your donations are welcome, and are fully tax-deductible. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The astronomers went with a hunch,
just as reason had stepped out to lunch;
for it seems so contrary,
we're no more a denary,
I would bet that they're all proud as punch.
For they gave poor old Pluto the heave,
that's an action quite hard to conceive;
but our friend could still win,
be permitted back in,
giving Pluto, and sense, a reprieve.
Author Notes |
Today's word: denary (n.) a group of ten.
In 2003, a planet of slightly larger size than Pluto was discovered in a far-out orbit. Originally designated 2003 UB 313, It subsequently became known as Eris, and brought the number of planets in the solar system (briefly) to ten. In a moment of insanity (in what must have been a very slow year in astronomy circles), Pluto was downgraded to "dwarf planet" status in 2006. However, there is some discussion of restoring the planet's proper status. In case anyone fears that scientists are about to accidentally commit a sensible act, the same recategorization which allowed Pluto back into the fold would also cause other bodies (more than 100 of them) -- in particular moons, such as our own, and Jupiter's Europa, to also gain recognition as planets in their own right. http://www.astronomy.com/news/2017/03/is-it-time-to-restore-plutos-status My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When Ruppell's Griffon Vulture takes to wing,
he soars at thirty seven thousand feet.
The view from more than seven miles up
must be the most amazing, wondrous thing.
It seems to me it would occur to him,
when down he looks at microbes on the face
of Earth, and recognises them as men,
the underprospect's surely looking grim.
Author Notes |
Today's word: underprospect (n.) an aerial view.
Elizabethan poet and scholar, Sir Philip Sidney, apparently coined the term in 1590. Horace Walpole, the English politician and author came up with the more popular "bird's-eye" view in the late eighteenth century. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Photo: Ruppell's Griffon Vulture, by Richard Towell. CC2.0 licence. Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/48975388@N07/5008191947 licence: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/legalcode |
By CD Richards
The snake likes to wend in a slither
When Donald's lips move, it's a blither
But the wind, for a treat
As it blows down the street
Loves to whither both hither and thither
Author Notes |
Today's word: whither (v.) see below.
slither: to move in a snake-like motion. blither: talk nonsense. whither: to move with great force; to buffet like the wind. hither and thither: here and there. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When ev'rything around seems strange and glum,
it's in such times I reach for Bundy Rum.
For nothing can inspire us more to think
than water with some fire for us to drink.
Of stiff rumbullion, I need just a dash—
dear BDC, please forward me the cash.
Author Notes |
Today's word: rumbullion (n.) a glass or drink of rum.
"Bundy", as it is known by locals, is short for Bundaberg Rum, produced in Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia, by the Bundaberg Distilling Company (BDC). That should explain everything, I hope. Dear BDC: If the cash is a problem, I will happily accept payment in the form of a pallet of your wonderful product, and am forwarding you the shipping address in a separate email. Photo: public domain. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
His profile said, "Loves walking on the sand."
She pictured them, at seaside, hand in hand;
the briny water lapping at their toes,
as in her other hand she held his rose.
He said he loved to cook— Oh! What a win!
I cannot wait to taste his Coq Au Vin!
And what more perfect ending to their dates?
He also gets enjoyment washing plates!
And so, she hopped a plane for far away;
but in her heart, she hoped perhaps to stay.
'Twas many miles she came to find her Prince;
but what she saw, ere long, caused her to wince.
In his brown eyes, she never could get lost;
the doctors, at his birth, declared them crossed.
Thought she, while gazing at his single tooth,
his speech, undoubtedly, is quite uncouth.
Now, she had not moved fast in many years,
but, suddenly, while fighting back the tears,
she spun about, and, showing little style,
discovered she could run a Yorkshire mile.
Now, "dating" on the internet might seem
the perfect way to meet up with your dream.
It works for some, of that there is no doubt,
but many take a long time to find out
that what they thought was true is just a lie;
then they get hurt, and in the by and by
the laughter turns to sobbing and to screams;
to broken promises and shattered dreams.
Does it not pay to meet and check the fit,
before we let our fragile hearts commit?
I guess, perhaps, there's something to be said
for dating the old-fashioned way instead.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Yorkshire mile (n.) a proverbially long distance.
This is one of the few words I knew before being introduced to it by my little book. In this country, the more common term is "a country mile". My other half has become hooked on a TV show called "Catfish", which relates tales of people who have become embroiled in long-distance internet romances, only to find out that the truth is something far from what they think. That is the inspiration for this little piece. Well, that, and a couple of personal experiences when I was young and foolish. Now, I'm old and foolish, and not given to investing so much in so little. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Unaltered image: "Catfish", by Modrino, sourced from Deviant Art (https://www.deviantart.com/modrino/art/Catfish-338006794); CC 3.0 licence -- https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/3.0/legalcode. |
By CD Richards
His leadership style's helter-skelter
He won't give those refugees shelter
But in spite of the noise
It's just jobs for the boys
And his country has been dealt a kelter
Author Notes |
Today's word: kelter (n.) a hand of cards of little value or use.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image source: http://www.guts.com/en, CC 2.0 licence; (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode) |
By CD Richards
At times I wonder, as the hours flow,
if each and ev’ry day has twenty-four.
So much to do, so why am I so slow?
It seems I’m always wishing there were more.
How oft I find the time just seems to fly,
and in my haste to meet one more demand,
the chance to keep in contact rushes by;
I mumble to myself, “She’ll understand.”
But what is so important I can’t spend
five minutes to enquire how you might be?
I think, before the day is at an end,
that I should pen a note to family.
So, mother, even though I can’t be near,
I hope this letterling will bring you cheer...
Author Notes |
Today's word: letterling (n.) a short letter or note.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I hate to be the bearer of bad news
or pour cold water on your cherished views;
but it's been so long now, I think you know,
it's time to let those superstitions go.
At first his followers thought he'd return,
but, as time passed, a few began to learn
they'd seen the last of their beloved King;
it's just a fantasy you're worshipping.
For resurrection cults are quite old hat,
a thousand fables testify to that,
and when we die, it's clear we cease to live;
apart from atoms, we've nought left to give.
So let it go, it won't cause any strife;
it's time for you to get on with your life.
Remove these fancy notions from your head,
Sebastianism should be put to bed.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Sebastianist (n.) someone who believes something unbelievable.
I've chosen to refer to the practice itself in this poem, rather than the individual practitioner, and therefore have used the term Sebastianism. In 1578, King Sebastian of Portugal is believed to have been killed during or after a battle against Moroccan forces. Back in Portugal, many people found the story hard to accept, and stories began to surface that he had simply disappeared during the fighting, and would one day return. With the passing of decades, the belief endured, and even grew. By the 1700s, a fully-fledged cult, Sebastianism had taken shape; its adherents claiming that Sebastian would one day rise from the dead to return Portugal to the glory it once knew. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Todays word: Proteusian (adj.) able to change shape at will; variable; inconstant.
Proteus was the son of Poseidon, and a god of the sea. It is said he could take on new shapes at will. Numerous mythical creatures have been assigned this ability, including vampires and werewolves. Although these creatures are limited in the forms they can take, some shape-shifters can take on almost any form. Amoebae are constantly redefining their shape as a means of movement, and to capture food. I cannot find a reference to this term in any dictionary; however, given the origins, I am assuming it must be pronounced Pro-tee-us-ee-an. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Sometimes, when I awake, it seems
that troubles are the stuff of dreams.
But then the newscast goes to air,
and so resumes the cruel nightmare
of witnessing the world implode,
as we destroy our own abode.
What if this madness can't be stopped?
I'm feeling slightly wamble-cropped.
Author Notes |
Today's word: wamble-cropped (adj.) nauseated.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
A young schoenobatist named Sam
joked and waved while traversing the dam;
but the rope it was wet
and the lad had no net;
now poor Sam looks like strawberry jam.
Author Notes |
Image: Valet tightrope, Ian Burt. Unaltered. CC2 licence (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode). Downloaded from https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/9125510233.
Today's word: schoenobatist (n.) tightrope walker. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, Chester was once a climb-tack,
who tangled with my bric-a-brac.
Of lives, he had nine,
but these days, the swine
is pushing up daisies out back.
Author Notes |
Today's word: climb-tack (n.) a cat that likes to walk on shelves.
I kid you not - that's the exact meaning, according to my book. Apologies to cat-lovers, it's just a limerick. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image by Trish Steel [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons; Modified by me, and subject to the same licence. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: paction (n.) an agreement; the act of making a pact.
This poem does not describe my current domestic arrangements. It may refer, loosely, to something in ancient history. It's really just a bit of fun, taking a poke at a cherished institution (great word for it!) Yes, "again" rhymes with "pain"; and "stain"; and "drain" - all highly appropriate! It also rhymes with cocaine, which is probably what one needs when one finds oneself in an unharmonious relationship ;-) Many thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
If you should be in Britain and
your life is on the line,
don't panic, find a telephone,
and dial nine-nine-nine.
And if you're in Australia,
when you should need to go
to hospital by ambulance,
the number's oh-oh-oh.
In Kiwi land, if you should cross
some felons on the run,
then find somewhere that's safe to hide;
seek help from one-one-one.
But if you're in the USA,
The writing's on the wall;
For they don't have a repdigit,
so, who you gonna call?
Author Notes |
Today's word: repdigit (n.) a number composed of a single repeated figure.
This most obvious example of repdigits is emergency phone numbers in many countries. The UK has 999. New Zealand is 111, and Australia 000. The US, bucking the trend, is, of course, 911. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: rusticate (v.) To live in the countryside; to live a quiet, rural life.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, Dave was a cocky young shepherd,
who thought he would take on a leopard.
The cat was the winner,
the shepherd, soon dinner;
a fight he regretted, I jeopard.
Author Notes |
Today's word: jeopard (v.) to stake a bet; to wager.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Her wealth, with envy, many viewed;
of beauty, she was blessed in spades.
The simple folk, she oft eschewed,
but fortunes change, and beauty fades.
In solitude, she learned of things
of more import than beautyhood;
for sometimes isolation brings
a self that's better understood.
Now, though in worldly terms, she's poor,
compassion has become her art.
She welcomes strangers at her door,
and greets them with an open heart.
Author Notes |
Today's word: beautyhood (n.) the state of being beautiful; the time of life when a person is most beautiful.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There's something I have been anxious to say;
I meant to tell you this the other day,
and now it's time to let the truth be known,
before the issue gets quite overblown.
So, I'll reveal this little fact to you
and leave you not a moment more to stew;
then when I've told you what it is, you'll see
why it's been weighing heavily on me.
To get this out is taking a long while,
though circumduction's really not my style;
but you'll agree this topic's rather hot.
So what's the news?
It seems that I forgot!
Author Notes |
Today's word: circumduction (n.) a longwinded, roundabout route or course of action.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
A hundred million is the prize tonight;
and if I win, then maybe I just might
embark upon a life of luxury,
and buy myself a villa by the sea.
Perhaps I'll splurge and buy a brand new truck,
for currently it seems I chance my luck
each time I climb on board and drive away,
in hope I'll make it home again that day.
The family will get their share as well,
and special friends (which ones, I cannot tell).
A goodly sum will find its way into
the bank account of Animal Rescue.
Oh, won't it be so grand to have great wealth?
So long as I can also have good health;
just think of the enjoyment to be found
distributing those pennifs all around.
Three in a billion is the chance that I
will have myself a bigger slice of pie;
and thus, however humble I might seem,
be feeling like the cat that got the cream.
Now you might say I've lost my mind, as such,
and it's quite true, I grant, that not so much
as one chook raffle have I ever won;
still, dreaming silly dreams can be quite fun.
Author Notes |
Today's word: pennif (n.) a banknote.
In Australian pubs and clubs, the "chook raffle" is a nightly event. It is a lucky draw, where the usual prize is a chicken (chook) or tray of meat. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
One fine day Davy Mills took a trip to the hills,
along with his girlfriend named Sue.
As the skyline grew dark, they decided to park,
just to sit and admire the view.
But as things sometimes go, well, the hormones did flow,
and the young couple soon began necking.
It's a sad thing to say, they'd be living today,
if the fools had not been so unrecking.
Far above Lovers' Lake, someone's foot hit the brake,
and as bad luck dictated, released it.
Rolling off the cliff side, Davy heard Susan chide,
"Goodness gracious, you've killed us, you dimwit!"
Now the lake is a host, so the locals do boast,
to a diverse array of small fishes.
As for Davy and Sue, well, I guess it is true,
things did not go according to wishes.
But on nights that are clear, if you row your boat near
to the spot where the couple went under;
you might hear from the deep, "It's not my fault, you creep!" —
it's just Davy, denying his blunder.
Author Notes |
Today's word: unrecking (adj.) not paying attention; unheeding.
* The plural of fish is usually fish, but there are exceptions. In biology, for instance, fishes is used to refer to multiple species of fish. * Necking (or, pashing) is an archaic term for smooching, or sucking face, dating way back to my teenage years. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Just what on Earth is feigned magic?
A quite amusing parlour trick!
It's time that thoughts were put to bed
of people channelling the dead.
Now don't you think it rather daft
if one gives credence to witchcraft?
Your newt's eye brews don't go down well,
and I'm not bothered by your spell;
for nature's laws cannot be broke
by silly incantations spoke.
Therefore, it seems, in "jugglery",
we've found a word which should not be.
Author Notes |
Today's word: jugglery (n.) feigned magic or witchcraft.
As opposed to "real" magic or witchcraft? Oh, please! My other half loves to tell the story of how she was discussing a TV show with a work colleague. The series featured tricks by some famous TV magician - it could have been Constantino, or someone else. The work friend didn't like the show because "The magic isn't real!" What does that even mean? Image: By Strobridge Litho. Co., Cincinnati & New York [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: melliturgy (n.) the production of honey by bees.
Many readers will possibly know that apiarists are bee-keepers, who in a sense, produce honey. However, it is the insects, of course, that do all the clever work, and I believe melliturgy refers specifically to the production by the bee. The root is the same as for mellifluous, which means "pleasantly smooth, like honey". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: desulture (n.) the act of vaulting from one horse to another.
As I post, the Australian Liberal Party (conservative, despite the name), is in the process of deciding whether we will have our 6th change of leader in eleven years. Changing horses in mid-stream has become something of a way of life here. However, it was not the Australian government I had in mind while I was writing this. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: consanguinate (v.) to sympathise, to have an affinity with or fondness for.
I found several words from the same root, but not this exact one in my online searches. Most of them have to do with some sort of blood relationship (sanguis), however according to my book, although originally rooted in that term, this word was used in the seventeenth century simply to indicate a close feeling. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. This follows the rhyme form of a limerick, and syllable count, at least in the longer lines. However, it's in iambic meter, and limericks are usually anapestic. So it's just "limerick-like" in some regards. I don't know if it has a name. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
manusculpt (n.) a hand-carved inscription.
From the Latin manus=hand sculpere=carve. Coined by English essayist Thomas de Quincey in the mid-nineteenth century. The Egyptians are of course, famous for their hand-carved stories. The ten commandments, found in the book of Exodus, are the only part of the Bible said to be written with "the finger of God" (Ex. 31:18), and hence, they too, are an example of manusculpt. |
By CD Richards
Cyllenian devil, this Old Father Time,
attacks us remorselessly, stealing our prime;
and when he is done taking minutes hard-earned,
he makes us forget all the life-lessons learned.
True patron of thieves, just like Hermes of old,
he pilfers vitality, makes us grow cold.
If we're on our game, and we think we can win it,
along comes this despot to drop us right in it;
the chance to achieve what we'd hoped slips us by,
it's made more than one person break down and cry;
but I'll beat this clock-watching tyrant, he'll stop—
he loses control on the day that I drop!
Author Notes |
Today's word: cyllenian (adj.) pertaining to theft or thieving.
There were so many candidates vying for this word of the day, but in the end I decided to go for a little black humour which didn't involve any particular person. A cave on Mount Cyllene is, according to Greek mythology, the birthplace of Hermes, the god of communication and correspondence. Often depicted with winged sandals and helmet, he was possessed of great speed, and this fleetness of foot led him to become associated with thieves and thievery. It occurred to me that time is also a thief, and that led to this little ditty. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When young Michelle was booked to ride "The Prince",
it made a lot of fellow jockeys wince.
Imagine if at racing's hallowed Cup,
a girl should win, and thereby show them up!
And so it was, in two-thousand-fifteen,
Miss Payne was duly crowned the Race's queen.
The boys, determined not to shed a tear,
all vowed that they would try again next year.
They'd better practice hard right up 'til then,
to challenge this esteemed equestrienne.
Author Notes |
Today's word: equestrienne (n.) a female horse rider.
Anyone who knows me well knows I'm not a fan of horse racing. Still, when Michelle Payne won the Melbourne Cup in 2015, riding Prince of Penzance, it was a big deal, as she became the first female rider to do so. "Ride like a girl" is a movie due out next year about her story. In terms of prize money, the Melbourne Cup is the richest turf race in the world, and second in total prize money only to the Dubai World Cup, which is run on dirt. In comparison, the Kentucky Derby ranks nine, and the Grand National ten, in prize money. Worldwide, that's a lot of blood money. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Photo by Tmaggs1 [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], from Wikimedia Commons. |
By CD Richards
The priest stood by the bed, Good Book in hand,
to offer comfort at the end of days;
with hopes to add another to the band,
inviting him, "Renounce the Devil's ways!"
But Voltaire was no fool, he clearly knew
conversions on the deathbed are a farce;
and Pascal's wager, better to eschew—
believe such lies, get bitten on the derriere.
A mind quite unsurpassed was Arouet's,
though he would never claim it Heaven sent.
Enlightenment through clever epithets;
viaticated, to his grave, he went.
"Let me depart in peace, I beg you please...
now is no time to make new enemies."
Author Notes |
viaticated (adj.) fully prepared for a journey.
My sense of rhyme and meter appears to have deserted me in stanza two - sorry for that little slip :) This little story poem tells the tale of the death of Francois-Marie Arouet (Voltaire) pretty much as it is recorded. This leading light of the enlightenment is someone who most assuredly was prepared to make his final journey. Pascal's wager is the theory that even if one doesn't believe in God, one should convince oneself to do so, as supposedly there is unlimited upside to making such a decision, and no downside. That, of course, is extremely debatable. It seems to have become somewhat of a game among some "believers" to invent totally fictitious accounts of notable non-believers who have had miraculous "deathbed conversions". Exactly what is meant to be achieved by such deception is not clear to this writer. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Oh, break out the bubbly and uncork the port,
then join in sing-songs at our spinets;
a war of this sort surely ought to be fought—
it lasted just thirty-eight minutes!
The escarmouche started around nine-oh-two,
as British troops mounted a sortie;
but Sultan Khalid packed his bags and he flew—
the fighting was done by nine-forty.
This awful mismatch in far-off Zanzibar
has made its way into folklore;
but surely it's true that all fighting's bizarre—
not only the world's shortest war.
Author Notes |
Today's word: escarmouche (n.) a brief skirmish or fit of anger.
Apart from the word of the day, some other words which may not be common to all areas: bubbly: champagne. port: a fortified wine. sortie: deployment of a military unit. spinet: a small piano. If you're curious to know more, just Google "Anglo-Zanzibar war". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Up beside the Dalton Highway, in the land of midnight sun;
endless day no longer with us, for the summer's race is run.
Now a hundred miles from Coldfoot, camping out by Galbraith Lake,
thawing bones at fireside vigil; brewing tea, our thirst to slake.
Flames grow brighter as the darkness drapes its cloak upon the gloaming;
in the distance, tiny headlights; caribou and foxes roaming.
Looking northwards, over Deadhorse, wondrous visions fill the skies;
images obscured by daylight treat our dark-accustomed eyes.
Petty-dancers, cloaked in raiment— yellow, crimson, mauve and green;
luminescent clouds are swirling, giving off a lustrous sheen.
In my mind, a story forming— choreographer, the sun;
through a hole in its corona, particles are on the run.
Urged by solar wind they travel, 'til they find our planet's poles;
atmospheric penetration, fostered by magnetic holes.
Particles collide with atoms, high up in the thermosphere;
photons so released enthrall us, when the air is crisp and clear.
There, surrounded by the tundra, lost in awe at nature's power;
burning logs reduce to ashes, as we quite forget the hour.
But, it's late, and we've more travel, off to bed we must now go;
grateful for our night of wonder, by these mountains capped with snow.
Author Notes |
petty-dancers (n.) the aurora borealis; the northern lights.
I have never seen the aurora, and my only Alaskan experience to date lasted two hours, and didn't take me out of the airport terminal. This is just my imagination telling me about my next visit. Many thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
The man in budgie smugglers turned all red,
when colleagues didn't choose Potato Head.
He thought they'd lost the plot,
and shouted out "Great Scott!"
Thanks to the after-roll, he'll soon be dead.
(politically speaking, of course)
Author Notes |
Today's word: after-roll (n.) a late roll of thunder or swell of the sea after a storm; a later event or consequence.
Further explanation for non-Australian readers: Budgie smugglers: Speedo swimwear. The man in budgie smugglers: ex Prime-Minister, Tony Abbott. Potato Head: Peter Dutton, Home Affairs Minister (formerly Immigration). Dutton was the chief puppet of Tony Abbott in the successful bid to oust Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull last week. Also currently in hot water, because it has been discovered that although as Immigration Minister, he couldn't see fit to allow refugees to enter the country illegally, he considered it perfectly acceptable to personally intervene on at least two occasions to grant visas to French au pairs to enter the country in violation of work restrictions. Coincidentally, they were going to be working for wealthy benefactors of his own party. Great Scott: (Or, probably not-so-great, too early to call). Scott Morrison, who upset Peter Dutton's plans of becoming PM to take the top job. Likes to be known as ScoMo (what a hip, rad, with it fellow he is). Australia: A place which, in spite of the fact that it has circus performers as elected representatives, still remains a great place to be. And, as we know, things could be worse when it comes to elected representatives. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I am alive, but once was dead,
those are the very words she said.
I had to ask just what had led
her to this strange psychosis.
Well since you ask, I'll tell you that
it's common in my habitat;
and since you now know where I'm at—
My name's Ana Biosis.
Author Notes |
Today's word: anabiosis (n.) a revival, a coming back to life.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It may not happen soon, but it is bound to in due course;
an object that's immovable will be met by a force
that is quite irresistible, and its attempts to block
this energetic onslaught will create an intershock
of magnitude beyond the comprehension of our mind;
destruction signalling the end of each and ev'ry kind.
In my imagination, I can see that day arrive;
the one where all our genius cannot help keep us alive.
"The outcome of this strange event remains quite undefined,"
the physics guru stroked his beard, as he these words opined;
but pandemonium broke out as panic overran
the fragile, self-absorbed collective that we know as "man".
Still, I don't fancy running 'round, I'd rather be inside
enjoying buttered popcorn as we watch "When Worlds Collide";
and as humanity becomes an object of the past,
we'll drink a beer, and give a cheer, and say "it's been a blast!"
Author Notes |
Today's word intershock (n.) to collide, to hit or strike together.
The anecdote given by my little book to explain the word of the day is the collision of comet Howard-Koomen-Michels with our sun, which occurred in 1979, releasing energy estimated to be equivalent to 1,000 times that used by the United States in an entire year. I decided to upsize the story. When Worlds Collide is a 1951 Paramount Pictures movie about the end of the world, and the other inspiration for this cheery little poem :) Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It seems to me, for humans to prevail,
we need to view ourselves on cosmic scale.
If nothing can dissuade us from
imaginary sceptredom,
our kingly thoughts will doom us all to fail.
Author Notes |
Today's word: sceptredom (n.) the reign of a king; royal power or sovereignty.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I know you'd really rather not be privy to my views,
and that we disagree is something no one would call news.
But silence when one ought to speak makes cowards out of men;
what's mightier than sword by far? Behold, the humble pen.
So though you don't appreciate it, still I'll carry on;
my job it is to be concerned— you're my Ucalegon.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Ucalegon (n.) a neighbour whose house is on fire.
Ucalegon was a counsellor in ancient Troy who had his house set on fire. Apparently, in the late seventeenth century, someone decided we needed a specific word in English to describe such an individual. Who'd have thought? My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image by LukeBam06 [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or FAL], from Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Many people know what ambidextrous means; fewer have heard the term ambilaevous, which means "equally clumsy with both hands".
Thanks for reading. But when you give to the poor, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing - Matthew 6:3 |
By CD Richards
Now Mary's a pogonophobiac,
who thought she was having a heart attack
when a young man named Chris
tried to give her a kiss—
"To me, your face feels like a prickleback!"
Author Notes |
Today's word: pogonophobia (n.) a hatred or dislike of beards.
I've chosen to use a noun representing a person who suffers from pogonophobia. A prickleback is a spiny fish. I don't get to choose the words. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
By way of explanation, I present my "Concorde heart"
Created on the very day you told me we must part
Delivery of news which hit me like a sonic boom
Each airquake ripple causing shockwaves in that lonely room
For love that's died, my shattered heart has now become a tomb
Author Notes |
For anyone wondering why I didn't start at "A", check the title :)
Airquake: an air tremor, or sonic boom. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The lush mountain passes are calling my name;
their moss-covered ledges in silence proclaim
such wonders that nature has woven for me,
as ferns chant enticingly, "Come and be free!"
A river meanders at will through the glen,
and winds whisper secrets forbidden to men.
It seems time's asleep in this place so serene,
where worries are hiding, nowhere to be seen.
While warm, golden sunlight peeks down through the trees,
the wildflowers curtsey and dance in the breeze;
but, sadly, I can't heed the call of the land—
this prosopopoeia has got out of hand!
Author Notes |
Today's word: prosopopoeia (n.) personification; the application of human characteristics to an inanimate thing.
I probably could have got away without the explanation of the word of the day, as every line, including the last, contains an example of it. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Yes, sometimes I go searching for a word,
or make a statement that is quite absurd.
Once in a while I check the fridge, to find
that what I'm looking for has slipped my mind.
'Twas many years ago, I got a fright
to wake, and learn my beard had gone all white.
And sure, it might be true my wrinkled skin
looks like a leather hide, but way too thin.
An agerasia "victim" I am not;
my face shows just how many years it's got
under its belt; and I'm no movie star...
Don't dare agree! Who do you think you are?
But sure, I've been around a year or two,
that makes me more "collectable" than you;
so don't be sad, or try to humour me,
I'm nowhere near as old as "O.M.G!"
Author Notes |
Today's word: agerasia (n.) possessing a more youthful appearance than one's true age.
I get the impression that post baby-boomers might think their use of the abbreviation O.M.G. is a recent fad. In actual fact, its first recorded use dates back more than a hundred years, in a letter sent to Winston Churchill in 1917 - coincidentally, on the 9th September - today's date. Another seemingly "modern" term which is much older than one might think is "dude", which was used as early as 1877. Many "dudes" would probably be shocked to learn it described a priggish, or dandyish gentleman. Also, the action of "un-friending" wasn't invented alongside Facebook - it was first referenced in a letter written by Thomas Fuller, in 1659. Like all of these words, and unlike the subject of this poem, I naturally appear much, much younger than I am in reality ;-) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: CC0 licence (public domain), source https://pxhere.com/en/photo/1130811. |
By CD Richards
The man was big, and I am small,
his looks were mean, his face grew grim;
and yet I felt no fear at all,
I truly wasn't scared of him.
My wife thought I was far too brave,
insisting, "Let's get out of here!
You're better not to fight this knave—
it's nothing but pot-valour, Dear."
But I knew best, for I am tough;
I challenged him out on the heath.
Just one good punch was quite enough—
has anybody seen my teeth?
Author Notes |
pot-valour (n.) courage or boldness induced by drinking.
I swear, it's not me. It's the book making me look like a drunken bum with all these words! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Although sometimes it might seem wise
to drain the swamp, to toss the junk,
it's not our right to septembrise,
or murder an obnoxious punk.
Yet, such has always been our way,
for reasoned argument's eschewed;
it doesn't seem a stretch to say
that strife and bloodshed is our food.
This species will itself destroy,
it's not our way to get along.
We fight on, endlessly, with joy
and wonder where it all went wrong.
Author Notes |
Septembrise (v.) to murder someone for political reasons.
The events of September 11, 2001 didn't directly inspire this poem, but thinking about them reminds me that the older I get, the less I have any faith in humanity as a species. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Does fortune favour those who are most brave,
or is the secret to good luck hard work?
Are rich rewards earned when we scrimp and save?
Perhaps they're nothing more than just a perk
of fav'rably combining time and place—
coincidence, in which we have no say.
Yes, probabilities determine fates,
though we can help a little on the way.
To make the most of opportunity,
a serendipidist need not connive;
for when our luck runs out we cease to be—
we've scant cause for complaint if we're alive.
Author Notes |
Serendipidist (n.) One who benefits from serendipity or a serendipitous event.
Perhaps one of the easier words to intuit. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Tyler Merbler, unaltered. Sourced from https://www.flickr.com/photos/37527185@N05/25288139995 CC 2.0 licence: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode |
By CD Richards
I have a slight suspicion that your rousing epinicion is
to say the least, a little premature.
The doctor said "prognosis poor", but ere I climbed up off the floor
he'd changed his mind, and offered me the cure.
It seems that arsenic for tea's not very good gastronomy
and causes certain organs quite to fail.
Before you try to flee the coop, I'd love some nice tomato soup—
would you like yours right now, or in the jail?
Author Notes |
Today's word: epinicion (n.) a song or poem of victory.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Alas, I find the night is almost done,
yet I've not typed a line — not even one.
Of hours in the day, there's not enough;
it's down, therefore, to subterfuge and bluff.
I'll make up something as I go along,
and after all, is that completely wrong?
For if I don't get something down tonight,
it's likely that I'll feel I've lost the fight.
So then tomorrow's posting will be missed,
and I'll be feeling more than slightly mad.
Oops, there I go, I've messed up all my rhyme—
If only I had just a bit more time!
The world won't be enhanced by these few words,
but hey, at least my stanzas come in thirds...
If silly verse does not your dreams fulfill,
I hope at least that you won't wish me ill.
For I don't think I ever will forget
this monumental, five minute charette.
Author Notes |
Today's word: charette (n.) a period of intense work or creative activity undertaken to meet a deadline.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, you might think it bitchery,
but I'm not fond of witchery
or hocus-pocus, bogus wizard types.
For magic's not an honest thing,
though we can smile at conjuring,
and Penn & Teller really earned their stripes.
When folk claim to miraculate,
surprise, surprise, I can't relate;
I think it's all a steaming pile of crap.
We both know that your tricks aren't real,
though they're performed with utmost zeal;
so don't pretend it gets you in a flap.
You might like playing circus freak,
while robbing blind the frail and weak
to fund your purchase of a brand-new car;
but you must know that all your lies
are viewed by anyone who's wise
as actions both dishonest and bizarre.
And though you earn a crust tax-free
(thanks to superb accountancy),
the wages of your sin will bring you down.
Your moment in the sun is brief,
for no one really likes a thief;
and history will view you as a clown.
Author Notes |
Today's word: miraculate (v.) to produce by miracle.
The topic of this poem, in case it slipped by, is charlatans; I don't like them. And I don't like that they rob trusting (if gullible) people to line their own pockets. Of course, they are far from the only ones to do that. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: There isn't one. I left it blank, with thoughts and prayers an image of Peter Popoff would miraculously materialise. |
By CD Richards
On finding I had cause for celebration,
the thought arose to take a perfretation.
But as I went to board the ship,
I tumbled down and broke a hip—
a fact which caused the crew some consternation!
Author Notes |
Today's word: perfretation (n.) a sea voyage or crossing.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: mamamouchi (n.) someone who believes themselves more important than they really are.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Photo courtesy of Pixabay. I couldn't find a photo of a fashion model that was public domain, so I just picked a random photo of someone I thought I'd like to share a coffee and a chat with. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: petrifact (n.) a stone artefact or statue.
I rarely attempt free verse. There's probably a good reason for that; still we must occasionally challenge ourselves. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Her coat was shiny black, save for a single stripe of red;
with promises of boundless bliss she lured him to her bed.
But at the height of passion, he was dealt a huge surprise,
discovering that he'd been trapped within a web of lies.
Her scugways flirting led him to this fatal mating act;
he'd no clue how his tender love would cause her to react.
But once the deed was done, she uttered, "Thanks, mate, for the bang,"
and post-haste she impaled him with her deadly, poisoned fang.
Now Rodney Redback lost his head, he wasn't feeling swell;
when she'd digested that, she ate the rest of him as well.
The moral is, be careful who you let into your house—
for goodness' sake, check out the facts before you choose a spouse!
Author Notes |
Today's word: scugways (adv.) clandestinely; with a hidden purpose or ulterior motive.
According to Wikipedia, even though the Black Widow spider gets its name from the idea of the female cannibalising the male after coitus, the practice is quite rare (although it does happen). This is not the case with the closely related Australian Red Back spider, where it's more the rule than the exception. Of course, this is all just about spiders :) Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Some people find omnipotence is something to desire,
yet power's not a concept that has ever stoked my fire.
While others claim omniscience, and feel they know it all,
but those who think their knowledge best are headed for a fall.
Now, omnipresence, I don't like, it makes my old flesh creep,
and then I think of stalker types, and those called Tom, who peep.
But omniparity is great, for you and I are kin—
we all are equal, never mind the colour of our skin;
or which god we might choose to serve, or who may share our bed,
how many assets we might own — unschooled or quite well-read.
For each and ev'ry one of us, we're born, we live, we die;
your tribe might think they're better off — I have to wonder why.
Author Notes |
Today's word: omniparity (n.) universal equality.
Probably one of the easier words to intuit - "omni" = all, "parity" = equality. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There seems a lot of needless agitation
surrounding this foretold cohonestation.
It's been two thousand years
and still no one appears—
perhaps it's just a case of time dilation?
Author Notes |
Today's word: cohonestation (n.) the act of honouring with your company.
When a predicted event has been going to occur "any day now" for two thousand years, there's got to be an explanation. I wonder, did Einstein provide one? My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
otacust: (n.) a spy, an eavesdropper.
"In a fascinating study and one of the best examples of interspecies communication between animals, scientists observed the Sika deer eavesdropping on macaques' feeding call in order to find food!" https://youngzine.org/news/our-earth/natures-eavesdroppers-sika-deer Image: Langur Monkey, by Salim Virji (resized). Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/salim/19426196 Licence: CC 2.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/legalcode |
By CD Richards
At lunchtime I had a potmeal,
and now look as bad as I feel.
I'm forced to conclude
I should have had food;
my stomach feels less than ideal.
Author Notes |
Today's word: potmeal (n.) a drinking session.
I wasn't able to find this in the dictionary, but my book assures me it is a word. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Now, Bill and Ben were flow'r pot men,
(if you can get my drift);
Young Bill stole Ben's last stash of weed,
which led to quite a rift.
But Ben found more, and so did Bill,
soon they were off their faces;
which led to fisticuffs at first,
then pistols at ten paces.
A shot rang out, and Ben fell down,
he bled out there and then.
Bill, too, got hit, but just a graze,
and he is on the mend.
The moral to this ditty is,
don't smoke that wacky backy,
or you'll become a basket case,
and start a monomachy.
Author Notes |
Today's word: monomachy (n.) a fight between two lone combatants; a duel.
"Bill & Ben, the Flower Pot Men" is a children's TV programme, which first aired on the BBC in 1952. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: colewort (n.) Any of a family of vegetables which includes cabbage, kale, brussels sprouts and broccoli, amongst others.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: cankerfret (n.) a corroded surface on metal.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When I was lost, in deep dismay,
the bishop's finger showed the way—
"Just follow where I lead," he quoth,
this erudite man of the cloth.
My troubles barely had begun—
he'd won my trust, his job was done.
Author Notes |
bishop's-finger (n.) a signpost.
This definition appeared in Francis Grose's Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 1785: FINGER POST: A parson: so called, because he points out a way to others which he never goes himself. Like the finger post, he points out a way he has never been, and probably never will go, i.e. the way to heaven. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I think one day I'd like to take a trip
through time, back to the eighteenth century,
and find myself the Captain of a ship,
discovering new lands across the sea.
If I could be a Neptunist of note,
my life would be one full of joy and pride;
I'd look resplendent in my naval coat,
my name a household word, both far and wide.
And yet, the cost would be so very great,
of forcefully invading foreign lands.
To subjugating folk, I don't relate,
I'd rather not have blood upon my hands.
The present is the place I need to be,
content to navigate this century.
Author Notes |
Today's word: Neptunist (n.) a sailor or mariner.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Like many children of my time, and in my neighbourhood,
my Godmother would share with me the things she knew were good.
"I'll steer you right," she'd say, "if there is any way I can."
She hoped I'd be a theist proper, when I was a man.
At first I could not get enough, I always wanted more;
but as the years went by, I found I had a diff'rent core.
I was no more a theic, for my loves began to change—
my Godmother and parents thought my transformation strange.
An odd thing about theism, it's very hard to shake,
and leaving it behind is quite a scary road to take.
At times, with growing emptiness, I missed my early ways;
and endless mugs of coffee barely got me through the days.
To those who know me well, this news will come as quite a shock;
I swear it is the truth, for I have quite turned back the clock.
The me you once knew is no more, now there is no more pain;
for I have seen the light, now I'm a theist once again!
Oh yes, it's true, my life has come full-circle to the start;
my former love's returned, and, sadly, old ways must depart.
I have a China teapot, and so many blends of tea,
I'm wall-to-wall in canisters, as far as eye can see.
There's Stockholm blend and peppermint, Earl Grey and green tea too;
I've orange tea, hibiscus and there's chamomile, for you.
I'll drown in antioxidants 'til I'm so fit and well,
I'll quite forget how missing coffee makes me feel like hell!
Author Notes |
Today's word: theic (n.) an excessive drinker of tea.
Oh, this was so much fun. Imagine my surprise (and perverse delight) to discover that theism is not only belief in a supernatural power, but also excessive consumption of tea. The Latin word for tea is thea, from which theist, theism and theic all derive. The ecclesiastical meaning, of course, comes from a totally different source --theos -- the Greek word for god. I actually have, in recent times, taken to drinking much more tea, a habit which I did indeed pick up when my Godmother used to sit me on her lap as a child, and pour her black tea into her saucer, to let it cool down before letting me sip it. The only slight exaggeration is that I haven't totally given up coffee, which has been my preferred drink for decades. My book reproduces the following extract from Scientific American, 1886. I find it almost impossible to believe it's genuine, it's just so delightful... America and England are the two countries that are afflicted most with the maladies arising from the excessive consumption of tea... The predominance of nervous symptoms is a characteristic of theism... Perversion of the sense of hearing is not at all an uncommon symptom -- patients report hearing voices that have no real or objective existence." My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The time is now to each present our case,
in this palaestra, standing face to face.
"A Grand Debate"; the title clearly fits
this monumental battle of the wits.
But still, I fear that justice might be harmed
when only one combatant's fully armed!
Author Notes |
Today's word: palaestra (n.) a place for debate or a battle of wits.
Just a reworking of an old joke - any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
anonym (n.) someone who wishes to remain anonymous; a pseudonym.
Unlike pseudonym, the term anonym may refer to either the device, or the person using it. Of course, anonyms have been used for centuries, but never to the extent current technology has permitted. The meaning here is not dark and mysterious. Many people's lives have been destroyed by those who post hateful comments to online news sites or social media. In most cases, the worst offenders choose to hide behind a pseudonym. Welcome to the internet. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Brocard (n.) an elementary principle, a short proverbial rule or maxim.
Today, I had to write a poem incorporating the word brocard, which means a short expression of an important principle. Notable collections of such sayings include Confucius' Analects, and a twenty volume collection of ecclesiastical rules and maxims entitled Decretum, compiled by the tenth-century cleric, Bishop Burchard of Worms, from whose name the term brocard is derived. Many people have their own favourite brocards. If I could have only one to live by, it would be "First, do no harm." This is a translation from the latin phrase "primum non nocere," which is often attributed to Hippocrates. Although he presented similar ideas, there is no record of him using the exact phrase; also, he wrote in Greek, not Latin. Regardless of the origin, I think it answers moral questions better than any other of which I'm aware. Trying to decide if you should make dishonest business claims, which swindle people out of cash, to feather your own nest? Having trouble deciding if it's ok to tear a newborn calf screaming from its frantic mother, never to be seen by her again, so we can enjoy drinking milk which wasn't produced for us? Want to know if you should follow the voice in your head which says your deity commands you to slit the throat of an infidel? As far as possible, first, do no harm. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Look out for the jingle-boy lies,
for trickle-down offers no prize.
There's nothing but pain
on their gravy train;
don't board it — a word to the wise.
Author Notes |
Today's word: jingle-boy (n.) a rich man.
Image: Monopoly Man, by Ben Gilman. Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/nuclearsummer/4134896867 (Unmodified) CC 2.0 licence - http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/legalcode My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I took a medication, paregoric,
to help me with a pain that would not go.
It left me feeling giddy and euphoric;
before long I was putting on a show.
I sang a bawdy song in finest voice.
The second time I sang it with a snicker,
and threw in extra words which were quite choice;
which, I must say, did not impress the Vicar.
My rise to fame was simply meteoric,
and soon I was the talk of the whole town.
So then I poured myself a gin and tonic;
I thought that it might help to calm me down.
Instead, I wound up on a table, dancing.
By this time I was feeling quite unwell.
The Vicar's wife, I thought, required romancing;
she disagreed, and threatened me with hell.
In future, if you think I have an ailment,
please take me home and put me straight to bed.
Avoid all drugs which might cause a derailment;
just give me paracetamol instead.
Author Notes |
Today's word: paregoric (adj.) painkilling, analgesic.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I ain't no stinkin' polly-in-the-cottage
In this house it are me wot wears the pants
I don't do women's stuff
I'm big and bold and tuff
I don't cook, and I never learned to dance
I start each sentence uttered with an "I"
I am the rightful master of my ship
I think I've gotta go
I hear her down below
If she reads this, she's likely gonna flip!
Author Notes |
Today's word: polly-in-the-cottage (n.) a man who helps with housework.
I couldn't find this word anywhere online; nevertheless, it's in the book, so here we go... Pssstttt... for those who might be wundering, I really can spel ;-) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I like to wear my beaglepuss, amuse folk with a joke;
quite often I will steal one from those mad Marx Brothers guys.
Sometimes I end up with a slap, or painful rib-wise poke;
I guess, when all is said and done, it comes as no surprise.
For not all folk can see the funny side of life, you know;
without a sense of humour sometimes mirth can seem amiss.
I'm sure some people find it hard to travel with the flow,
but I don't mean to hurt a soul, I'm just taking the mickey.
With funny glasses, fake moustache, or even when without,
from time to time it seems I just can't help but cause offence.
Of one thing I am certain, and of this, there is no doubt—
I'm well-equipped with silly puns, but short of common sense.
Author Notes |
Today's word: beaglepuss (n.) a pair of novelty glasses with a fake nose, eyebrows and moustache attached.
In honour of Groucho Marx, who made this apparel famous, the description line at top is a quote from him. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The deadly blade, with fearsome force, is drawn across her throat;
regret's not an emotion he permits himself to feel.
Uncomprehending victim, clueless why she's been thus smote;
carotid pumping crimson tide, aware her fate is sealed.
In desperation, gasping, though her lungs can draw no air;
desire is now for nothing but an end to all the pain.
A few swift strokes, her murderer has stripped her insides bare;
the killer smiles as blood and gore go swirling down the drain.
In minutes it is over, and her suffering complete;
one solitary tear from lifeless eye falls at his feet.
No longer is she Daisybell, henceforth she's known as meat.
Author Notes |
My last few poems have been light-hearted attempts at humour. That's about to change. This poem is graphically violent, but not gratuitously so -- there is a point to it. I hope you can persevere to the end. To those who do, thanks for reading.
This is an acrostic, in iambic hexameter. Today's word: trucidation (n.) an especially cruel killing or murder. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
When we first met, way back in two-thousand,
who could know it would work out this way?
You came over to check out Playstation,
to my shock, you decided to stay.
Well, your stature is "vertically challenged",
for you're not even close to a smoot;
but you're funny and sexy and clever—
yes, in short, I would say that you're cute.
Now you may not resemble a choirgirl,
and your spirit has always been free.
While you're not hanging out to see heaven,
you're a saint, 'cuz you put up with me.
You're the one that I want to grow old with;
shut your face, I'm not "already there".
Oh, how dare you? I'm telling your parents.
Your response? "Do it, see if they care!"
Yes, I see now where you got the sass from;
well it's cool, and I love them both too.
For they brought me a gift from Great Britain,
and it happens that present is you.
Author Notes |
smoot: a unit of length equal to five feet seven inches.
Thanks for reading. Image: SS Lurline, later renamed RHMS Ellinis, on which a certain "ten pound Pom", as assisted passage immigrants were known back then, arrived in Australia in 1973. |
By CD Richards
The weather-sharp frowns as he surveys the sky,
observing the gunmetal clouds rolling in.
He sees no improvement when they have passed by,
for what lies beyond them is blacker than sin.
As black as the cold hearts of those who would claim
for them to succeed they must rule and oppress;
that life must be played like a zero-sum game,
and happiness comes through embracing excess.
The optimist claims where there's life, there is hope;
will the thunderclouds clear and the sky turn to blue?
For us to survive requires more than a trope;
the answer we need is a modified view.
Author Notes |
Today's word: weather-sharp (n.) a weather forecaster.
zero-sum game: a situation in which each participant's gain or loss of is the inverse of the losses or gains of the other participants. trope: a figurative or metaphorical use of a word or expression. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, I don't care to hassle or harangue,
but I've no wish at all to see you hang.
Avoid latrocination;
it's not a good vocation.
Don't take the path embraced by Kelly's gang.
Author Notes |
Today's word: latrocination (n.) robbery; theft.
Ned Kelly is Australia's most famous bushranger (highwayman). He was hanged in 1880. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Well, Mrs O'Leary's a blunder-a-whack;
sometimes things are done that no one can take back.
Who knew just how many poor souls would expire,
when, with her cow's help, Catherine started a fire?
One must pay attention when dealing with stock,
for lack of attention could lead to a shock.
Just one little slip-up could leave many dead,
so don't leave a lantern alight in the shed.
Author Notes |
blunder-a-whack (n.) someone whose carelessness has caused a disaster.
One of the best-known examples is that of Catherine O'Leary, whose cow kicked over a lantern she had carelessly placed. The ensuing fire, in Chicago in 1871, killed at least 200 people and destroyed more than 17,000 buildings, leaving more than 100,000 people homeless. Here is the song many of us would have heard as children at camp: My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Picture, at our world’s beginning, dust and gases in space spinning,
then accreting, underpinning what some call a grand design.
Other clouds of swirling gases and debris were forming masses,
and these wanderers made passes, in their orbits now confined.
Gravitational attraction guides their actions, thus confined;
witnessed only by starshine.
Then, it's thought, a chance collision, magnitude hard to envision,
caused a rift, a great division; bodies whose fates now align.
Thus, a satellite we came by, pride of place within our night sky;
luminescent orb up on high, to the sailors, a lifeline.
Mariners at sea pay homage, to their heavenly lifeline.
Earth is bathed in bright moonshine.
Here we cannot end this story, for it seems obligatory
Earth reflect the sun's full glory; balance is the bottom line.
When the moon appears a crescent, if I am in darkness present,
faintly, far from incandescent, seen by these old eyes of mine
is the entire lunar circle, visible to eyes of mine.
All revealed thanks to earthshine.
Yes, the moon's poorly reflective, though more so than the invective
spouted by a small collective, men with motives not benign.
There's a darkness on this planet, and it's mankind that began it,
for it seems that hearts of granite are the stuff of our bloodline.
Human actions tell the story of a violent bloodline.
Mostly, evil deeds outshine.
Is there hope for this, our species? Are our hearts but mere prostheses?
Just more primates hurling feces, our behaviour asinine?
Were we just to learn compassion, kindness might return to fashion,
then we'd moderate our passion; if these things we could combine.
When we learn to reason clearly, thought and action to combine,
some day, maybe, we will shine.
Author Notes |
Today's word: earthshine (n.) the reflection of sunlight by the Earth onto an otherwise dark part of the moon.
* "Planet" goes back to ancient Greek "planet-" (literally, "wanderer"), which is derived from "planasthai," a Greek verb which means "to wander." * "gases" is the correct UK and Australian spelling. Image: Earth Shine, Dylan O'Donnell (public domain). https://www.flickr.com/photos/65141172@N00/16408987882 Brightness and contrast modified by the author. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I think it quite impractical that I must sit umbratical
in silence at the corner of my street.
A fire hydrant, I am not; is this the best disguise you've got
for undercover cops while on the beat?
Why can't I be a postbox, man? Or even play a garbage can?
I'd like a change; or do I have to beg?
For ev'ry day at half-past-three, I want to pull up stakes and flee
when Rover comes on by to lift his leg!
Author Notes |
Today's word: umbratical (adj.) disguised or cloaked.
Yes, I've used it as an adverb, but it's really an adjective in disguise. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I cannot stand this word I've got today;
In thirty seconds, I was over it.
For, unlike my new go-to-meeting clothes,
it really is a pain to make it fit!
Author Notes |
Today's word: go-to-meeting (adj.) of clothes - smart, formal.
I swear sometimes he makes this stuff up! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: Xanthippe (n.) a scolding, quarrelsome woman.
Xenophon, one of Socrates' students, described the philosopher's wife as "the most difficult woman not just of this generation...but of all the generations past and yet to come". I can't help wondering if this had anything to do with Socrates' choice not to avoid the death sentence, when it would have appeared quite easy for him to do so. Then again, I'm guessing not all women would be fine with their husband running around in the company of other half naked females! Image: Socrates and Xanthippe, Luca Penni, circa 1550. Thanks for reading :) |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: love-light(n.) a romantic glimmer in a person's eyes; an infatuation.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
For a building to be in alignment,
its quinie must be set just right;
for without a firm, stable foundation,
it's likely the structure just might
be a less than reliable shelter,
or tumble down ere long has passed.
In the same way, relationships suffer;
when missing trust, they cannot last.
It's true, love is important in binding
two hearts, so they both beat as one;
but the cornerstone's trust in each other—
without it, all soon comes undone.
Author Notes |
quinie (n.) a cornerstone; the first stone laid in a building.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Parthian: (adj.) describing a shot fired in retreat; a parting shot.
It has been suggested that relations between William Shakespeare and his wife, Anne Hathaway, were strained, to put it mildly. This seems to be backed up by the fact that he left each of his two surviving daughters around $500,000 (in today's equivalent). However, Anne was not included in his original bequest at all, but the will was subsequently modified to bequeath to her his "second best bed". |
By CD Richards
We are a mostly very social lot,
it's just our way to love to share with peers;
and so the invitations have gone out
for easily more than a hundred years.
It's likely that these aerograms we've sent
have reached a hundred thousand worlds out there;
but should some neighbours care to look us up,
are we at all for such a thing prepared?
Do we suppose they'll be our new best friends,
providing answers for our troubled race?
Our knights in shining armour dashing in
to save us, from the very depths of space?
Or could it be they're not such friendly folk?
They might drop by here just to pick and browse.
Perhaps they'll simply think of us as lunch,
and we could be the galaxy's new cows.
Author Notes |
aerogram (n.) a message sent by radio.
Most of us (of a certain age at least) probably think of an aerogram as a letter sent by air-mail; but before that the word meant a message transmitted by air waves. It's estimated that there are around 15,000 stars within a 100 light-year radius of our sun, and on that basis I made a guesstimate of maybe around 100,000 other planets that our broadcast transmissions could have reached so far. I wonder if, on any of those worlds, someone is sitting there thinking to themselves, "Oh how wonderful, a lunch invitation!" The photo is the Parkes radio telescope, which is about a 90 minute drive from my house, was commissioned in the year I was born, and played a huge role in (among other things) relaying live images of the first moon landing. Of course, its job is to listen for messages from space, not send them, but I couldn't resist such a great image. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image credit: CSIRO [CC BY 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
When you wrote your tome, Mr Webster,
so many years ago,
did you know where it would lead?
Why did you choose
to abandon spellings
that had served so well?
Was it a desire to distance your new world
from the old one?
Yet how mild are your changes,
how innocuous a dropped vowel
here and there,
compared to the subversion
taking place today;
when
truth means deception,
honorable means belligerent in denial,
patriotic means bigoted,
right means loudest.
Come back, Mr Webster,
we need a new idioticon.
Author Notes |
Today's word: idioticon (n.) a dictionary of a minority or geographically localised language.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
tourbillion (n.) a whirlwind.
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I hope, while writing this, I don't nod off;
for that might cause my audience to scoff.
My nappishness will bring me down;
to them, I will appear a clown.
So, if you see me fall asleep, please "cough".
Author Notes |
Today's word: nappishness (n.) sleepiness; a tendency to nap.
Image: http://www.amenclinics.com/, downloaded from https://www.flickr.com/photos/125892716@N05/14583656566 cc 2.0 licence: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: auripotent (adj.) rich and powerful.
The quote is by William Shakespeare; from Othello, Act 3, Scene 3. Ben Franklin said it this way: Money never made a man happy yet, nor will it. There is nothing in its nature to produce happiness. The more a man has, the more he wants. Instead of its filling a vacuum, it makes one. If it satisfies one want, it doubles and trebles that want another way. A few years later, the Beatles also had some pertinent things to say: My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading, and thanks to Ciliverde and Pantygynt for the form. Image: public domain. |
By CD Richards
Australia's no need for a wall;
we have no shared borders at all.
Not limitrophe bounded,
by water surrounded,
So, "Turn back the boats" is the call.
Author Notes |
Today's word: limitrophe (n.) a borderland, a neighbouring country.
Like the US, and most nations, there are those who are staunchly anti-refugee in this country. However, building a wall would not be useful for a nation surrounded on all sides by water. Instead, the catch-cry here, which the conservative government has used for many years is, "turn back the boats". This reflects the fact that most immigration which is not pre-authorised takes place via sea journeys from south-east asia, mostly Indonesia. The subject of "illegal" immigration is complicated. There must be controls, both because unlimited intake is not possible, and for the safety of those seeking to make such a journey. On the other hand, people fleeing their homeland in fear for their lives and seeking refuge elsewhere are not criminals, and should not be treated as such. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The job they do is stradametrical;
a task which really is quite technical.
One really needs a good theodolite
to get the angles all worked out just right.
Yes, getting anywhere would be a guess,
if we could not rely on GPS.
Let's all applaud our highway survey crews;
without them, traveling could be bad news.
Author Notes |
Today's word: stradametrical (adj.) pertaining to the size and measurements of streets and roads.
A theodolite is a surveying instrument with a rotating telescope for measuring horizontal and vertical angles. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I think it would be grand if I could buy a parachute;
to jump from thirteen thousand feet would be, I think, a hoot.
Imagine all those wondrous sights I'd see on my way down;
they'd be a source of utmost joy, no need at all to frown...
unless it didn't open— that would be a nasty thing;
I hate to think the consternation such a turn would bring.
But I am not one, who, through fear, would let a great chance slip,
so toodle-pip and tally-ho, and with stiff upper lip
I'm off to get a parachute, the best that I can find;
so all you nervous Nellies, I suggest you pay no mind.
Now, if my gear malfunctions, then no more I'll brolly-hop;
and those who doubted can all say, "Well, that was one huge flop."
Author Notes |
Today's word: brolly-hop (n.) a parachute jump.
My book says it's a noun; I suspect use as a verb is acceptable as well, for the same reason that "jump" can be both. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
We've mortgaged the future of those yet to come
to pay for our current excesses.
"Why do such a thing?" you might think to enquire,
if pressed to reply, my best guess is
we've paid heed too long to those men who beguile
with promises of wealth and leisure.
They claim, "Vote for me, and I'll make you all rich,"
while daily they add to their treasure.
Their words are pure snake oil, we can't have it all
on credit, and yet remain nimble;
for debt weighs us down, and our children will drown,
when they are the ones who must thrimble.
"Thanks, Mommy and Daddy, for all that you've done,"
our offspring's rebuke is sarcastic;
but don't be despondent, just buy some more "stuff",
and pay for it all using plastic.
Author Notes |
Today's word: thrimble (v.) to grudgingly repay a debt.
Some readers might be wondering who is being held at fault here; ordinary people, or politicians. It's both. The politicians, seeking to keep their jobs, deliver what they can't afford, and so condemn future generations to crippling debt, and resign them to the fact most of them will never enjoy what their parents took for granted. On the other hand, we as individuals like to spend like it's going out of style. We elect people to public office based on their empty promises to make us all better off; when in reality, the only pay packet most of them care about is their own. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
My mother once told me, "Try to find something nice to say in any situation." This was a real challenge.
Hardiment: (n.) courage, audacity. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I sowed a garden I could call my own.
With love, I planted seeds and watched them sprout;
looked on with pride at each plant fully grown.
When weeds shot up, I quickly plucked them out.
The blossoms were so pleasing to behold,
with colours bright and fragrances so fine.
They brought me warmth and cheer when it was cold;
these verses, fruit of this old soul of mine.
But if you think I speak immodestly,
comparing my rude verse to nature's skill;
your condemnation matters not to me.
For I can draw analogies at will,
and now my polyanthea's complete,
a rose by any name would smell as sweet.
Author Notes |
Today's word: polyanthea (n.) a literary collection, an anthology.
I love today's word, I think it has a sweet sound to it. Since I've just recently published my first own little anthology (a collection of poems), I thought it appropriate to use that as the subject. Also adding to the appeal of today's word is that it literally means "many flowers", hence the garden theme. My scribblings may not mean much to anyone but myself, but to me they are very much like a garden, on a number of levels. Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occured to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Said Doctor Cruz, "I've got good news;
we've found an organ donor!
Your new heart is a novel part,
it has a porcine owner."
But when I heard the medic's words,
my face flashed consternation.
I didn't know if I should go
for xenostransplantation.
I give a fig if some poor pig
needs his heart to survive.
Just let him be, he's family;
I like my pork alive.
Tell saintly Pete that we won't meet;
no waiting by the gate.
I've had my fun, my race is run,
and now I meet my fate.
But don't be sad, things aren't so bad;
though worm food I will be.
When I decease, I'll leave in peace
if "Bacon Bits" goes free.
Author Notes |
Headline from The Independent, UK, 10 August, 2017:
Pig organs could soon be transplanted into humans after major 'xenotransplantation' breakthrough. Today's word: xenotransplantation (n.) the transplantation of non-human material into a human patient. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occured to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image: "Pink Pig", author unknown, source: http://pngimg.com/download/2203. Licence: CC 4.0 - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/legalcode Image flipped horizontally by author. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Inhabitants of Aynek are a most unruly bunch,
and savages from Occorom will eat good folks for lunch.
Those heathens from Sarudnoh never did a good day's work,
and people hailing from Airys might just as well be Turks.
For, one and all, they pose a threat to us fine Christian folk,
and if we let them in, they'll likely send the country broke.
The brave forces of Ellivpmurt will see them on the run,
we'll round them up and ship them out before the day is done.
Elohtihs countries cannot win, they do not stand a chance,
against the might of our great technological advance.
"So let them try to overrun us, I don't give a damn,"
says Pmurt, a sentiment that's shared by Nosirrom and Yam.
And if this message, to your mind, makes little sense at all,
remember it's been said that pride will oft precede a fall.
To deconstruct this cryptic verse, no need to call on "Him",
just look inside a diction'ry, and check out "ananym".
Author Notes |
Today's word: ananym (n.) a word formed by reversing the letters of an existing word. Most commonly, fictional proper nouns, like the imaginary Welsh village of Llareggub, a certain well-known celebrity's production company, Harpo, or the real Canadian town of Anadac.
In this piece, the clues are the italicised words. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I'd love to be a Rechabite,
but then again, perhaps I might
just take a little time out to rethink.
For all its practised piety
and flaunting of sobriety,
religion is what drives a man to drink.
Author Notes |
Rechabite (n.) a person who abstains from alcohol.
But they said, We will drink no wine: for Jonadab the son of Rechab our father commanded us, saying, Ye shall drink no wine, neither ye, nor your sons for ever Jeremiah 35:6 My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Boswellise: (v.) to write a detailed account of another's life or deeds; to praise or eulogise greatly.
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Today, the spread of ignorance is vast.
Is it too late — the final die now cast?
The voice of hate and fear is loud;
dare you resist the madding crowd?
Let's hope this bout of panshite doesn't last.
Author Notes |
panshite (n.) a state of panic, confusion, or uproar.
"For the past three years your words and your policies have emboldened a growing white nationalist movement. You yourself called the murderer evil, but yesterday's violence is the direct culmination of your influence." https://www.bendthearc.us/open_letter_to_president_trump Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
All Hallows' Eve, a moonlit night, in two-thousand-eighteen,
the Dark Lord of the universe unveiled his fiendish plot
to summon evil, likes of which the world had never seen;
thus would he terrorise all life, and subjugate the lot.
At once, the call went out across the cosmos, cold and dark;
a trumpet sounded, marshalling all kinds of hellish brutes.
And so, they gathered in one place, preparing to embark
upon their quest, so vile and base; those devils in cahoots.
The shapeshifters arrived there first, at the appointed place,
and banshees followed close behind, with evil, glowing eyes.
The gorgons would destroy all those who looked upon their face,
a succubus joined in the throng, which came as no surprise.
They scoured the galaxy to find their first point of attack,
and settled on a yellow sun, within an outer arm.
Life on its third rotating moon looked like a tasty snack;
post-haste they headed straight for Earth, to terrify and harm.
But as they surveyed our blue world, this demonagerie,
they threw the anchors out, and halted right there in their tracks.
The scouts had found a creature that the ghouls took fright to see,
and swore they couldn't wait to show this home of ours their backs.
For one among ten million species was so cruel and mean
the very hosts of hell were scared to tackle it at all.
Most other creatures feared it, more than any ever seen;
when sapiens arrived, they saw the writing on the wall.
The devil and his minions breathed a sigh, and looked askance;
thus did this foul invasion end, they all turned tail and ran.
For demons know when they are beaten, standing not a chance,
as none in all that hellish troop could trump the sins of man.
Author Notes |
Image source: https://www.maxpixel.net (public domain).
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Late last night, I felt quite weary,
so I took myself to bed.
Something happened, slightly eerie;
was it real, or in my head?
I awoke, and through eyes bleary
(unless I was quite misled),
hanging down from the laqueary
was a vampire, quite undead.
These things don't exist, in theory,
or so I have often read;
but my senses made me leary—
so I jumped right up and fled.
Author Notes |
Today's word: laqueary (n.) a ceiling, the roof of a room.
Just a silly little poem playing with alternating rhymes. No Halloween theme tomorrow, promise. Image: pixabay.com (public domain) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I have a friend who curses on demand,
but I've decided I must take a stand.
Though I can take a hit,
I'm not a "shining wit";
his spurcity is getting out of hand!
Author Notes |
Today's word: spurcity (n.) obscenity, uncleanness.
One of the phrases in the above might be a spoonerism - i.e. two words (with a possible conjunction between), with the consonant sound at the beginning of each being exchanged. For example, "palt and sepper" or "doble need". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
There once was a dragsman, "Black Bart",
made stealing from coaches an art.
He used half the loot
to buy a new suit;
he really did look quite the part.
Author Notes |
Today's word: dragsman (n.) a thief who steals from vehicles.
Black Bart's real name was Charles Boles. He made a career of holding up stagecoaches in California in the 1870s. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Bailed Up, by Tom Roberts. Public Domain. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
This poem is inspired by the fact that my property currently resembles Swiss cheese, due to an explosion of rabbits. It quite literally means risking a broken leg to walk around it. Why the sudden escalation in the rabbit population? Surrounding farmers have shot all the foxes. Mankind is brilliant at screwing things up, and incapable of learning to leave well enough alone. Next, they'll be poisoning the rabbits, and thus killing off native species. Fools.
Thanks for reading. P.S. Yes, it's deliberate. |
By CD Richards
Of leggism, I've been accused
by those with jealous faces;
but I showed them, I scooped the pool,
thanks to this hand -- five aces!
Author Notes |
Today's word: leggism (n.) swindling; cheating at games or gambling.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It's time for ditching enmity;
try coexisting, you and me.
We just might be surprised to see
a trend which starts internally
can spread out quaquaversally.
Author Notes |
Today's word: quaquaversally (adv.) moving, pointing or protruding in all directions.
Have you always wanted to use the term "quaquaversally" in a poem? Me either! Nevertheless, I'm all caught up... for the moment :) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
My hat, I must say, fits just fine;
it shields my bald head from sunshine.
So be nice, I bid
to my much-loved lid,
although it's a cheap four-and-nine.
Author Notes |
four-and-nine (n.) a hat, in particular a cheap or poor quality one.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The seventh of November marked the day the ship left port,
to sail from New York Harbor to Genoa, Italy.
But as she pulled out from the dock, no one there could predict
that this would be the last known time a living soul would see
Good Captain Briggs, or his young wife, or daughter (just a babe);
and to this day, we have no clue where they, or crew, might be.
The vessel was discovered one month later, quite intact;
with cargo still on board, but there was water in the hold.
No sign of violence, or clue where those aboard had gone,
the latest entry in the log was fully nine days old.
No lifeboat at the stern, were they required to leave the ship?
Odd speculations surface any time the tale is told.
While some blame pirates, mutineers or even UFOs,
the answers lie off Portugal, in waters dark and deep.
Entirely mysterifical, this strange and puzzling case;
but there are secrets that the ocean, to itself, must keep.
Yet, I can't help but think that coral's growing on their bones,
and on the ocean bed is where they've found their final sleep.
Author Notes |
Today's word: mysterifical (adj.) mystery-creating or mysterious.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Public domain. The painting shows the original name of the ship ("Amazon") in the comment underneath. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: decussate (v.) to mark with an X, to cross or intersect into an X shape.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: https://www.maxpixel.net/Female-Road-Way-Choice-Crossroads-Girl-Direction-2573111 (public domain). |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: parietine (n.) a fallen or ruined wall.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
With weasel words, they duck and weave, and circumvent the truth;
"But why should indagation threaten honest folk?" I ask.
The road to hell begins, most likely, at a polling booth;
be thankful there are still some left to take the rogues to task.
Author Notes |
indagation (n.) investigation; a searching or questing.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
We must declare an armistice, a brief and passing truce;
lest all our vitriolic slurs be running out of juice.
Let's pause, and take a break, so we can laugh and joke and play;
I'll shoot your dogma down in flames, with glee, some other day.
So please accept this olive branch, it's my eirenicon;
forgive me if I don't exhort you all to "soldier on".
But rest assured, hostilities resume after the feast;
for peace and amity are not the nature of the beast.
Author Notes |
Today's word: eirenicon (n.) a statement or proposal intended to bring peace; an attempt at reconciliation.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: stone-ginger (n.) a dead cert, a sure thing.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
These days, "the facts" are often inexact;
the path to truth is really an anfract.
Deciphering the news
can easily confuse;
it's hard to keep one's sanity intact.
Author Notes |
Today's word: anfract (n.) a winding, circuitous route.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I thought to learn tachygraphy,
in hopes that maybe I
could, with alacrity, record
each thought as it sped by.
Alas, the lessons were a waste,
for this old, foggy brain
does not deliver much in haste;
it's slowing down, that's plain.
Author Notes |
Today's word: tachygraphy (n.) shorthand; swift writing.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I've hundreds of stuffed toys, they're all named "Ted".
You'll find them in my room and on my bed.
Though I'm an arctophile,
if bears go out of style,
I'll start collecting China dolls instead.
Author Notes |
Today's word: arctophile (n.) a collector of teddy bears.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It starts when we are still so very small,
we're told we must be filled with guilt and shame;
that in our hearts there is no good at all,
and our best deeds are evil, just the same.
That not to suffer dire eternal strife,
a judgement from some tyrant up on high,
we must repent and start a brand new life,
and genuflect until the day we die.
Yet what if you should give yourself a break,
not beat yourself up for imagined sin?
Enjoy this life, just for enjoyment's sake,
don't let the pious bullies do you in;
lest wasted, self-recriminating years
unleash a flood of cataractine tears.
Author Notes |
Today's word: cataractine (adj.) resembling a waterfall.
Some people fear suffering in an afterlife, I fear wasting this one. Legion are the voices directing us to "toe the line", to regard ourselves as criminals, and spend our lives making amends. Few are those suggesting we just make the most of the one life we've been given (the only one we'll ever know), in "the pursuit of happiness". If you're upset by the content of this poem, please just consider it as I regard about 80% of the poems on this site... an alternative viewpoint :) Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image: www.pexels.com (public domain). |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: bibliopoesy (n.) the creation or publication of books.
I wondered why my writing was progressing more slowly than I would like, then I realised... I had no paper in my typewriter! Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
my love as deep; the more I give to thee.
Can one find fault with my archiloquy?
Indeed thou must, it plagiarism be!
So, I will beg forgiveness of the Bard,
and pray the reader, judge me not too hard;
I merely sought a simple point to make,
put down those sticks and stones, for goodness' sake!
Author Notes |
Today's word: archiloquy (n.) the opening of a speech.
The opening two lines of my speech (poem) are shamelessly stolen from Romeo and Juliet, however my legal team advises me I can claim something called "fair use". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Now, once there was a Jewish man,
and Jonah was his name;
got swallowed by a big belue—
it was his claim to fame.
Three days and nights he lived within
the belly of the fish;
thanks to his heartfelt prayers, his God
then granted him his wish.
The creature to a beach did swim,
led by a mighty hand,
and vomited the preacher up
right there upon the sand.
The moral to this tale is clear;
whales don't like human food.
But even so, I'd stay well clear
when they're in a foul mood.
Author Notes |
Today's word: belue (n.) a great beast or sea monster; a whale.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Jonah and the Whale, Pieter Lastman, 1621 (public domain). |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: trajectile (n.) a projectile, something thrown forward.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Picture: public domain. |
By CD Richards
I have a little secret, and I think it should be shared;
it's news I've longed to let you know, but somehow never dared.
Now, if you find this furtiveness is hard to understand,
it might help if you had a chat with my old mate, George Sand.
Or, failing that, I think that Ellis Bell might tell you why,
in making this disclosure, I have been a little shy.
Yes, even Robert Galbraith had the same misgivings too;
so now it's time to let it go, and share this thing with you.
To hide my pseudandry, I've sometimes needed to be vague;
I think you'll be surprised to learn that I'm not really Craig.
You'll soon get used to using the real name by which I'm known;
so in the future, I'd be grateful if you'd call me Joan.
Author Notes |
Today's word: pseudandry (n.) the use of a male pseudonym by a female writer.
It's not an uncommon practice, even today, for female authors to adopt a male pseudonym. This poem refers to three such examples: George Sand: Amantine Dupin Ellis Bell: Emily Bronte Robert Galbraith: Joanne (JK) Rowling My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Jo Calderone (aka Lady Gaga) WeslleyAlb [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], from Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: epistolisable (adj.) worthy of writing in a letter.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Vagabond crowd that is seething with hate,
Anarchists lacking decorum and couth.
Nasty vindictiveness will not abate,
Driven, relentless, both adults and youth.
Enmity grows as they jostle and shove,
Madness spreads swiftly, the weak are drawn in.
Outrages frowned on by those up above,
None shall escape consequence of this sin.
I can't abide by these unruly scenes,
Anarchy reigns where the greedy all meet.
No one can claim not to know what this means,
Infamous mayhem, blood flows on the street.
So it is time that we ended this pain—
Make a note: don't shop Black Friday again!
Author Notes |
Today's word: vandemonianism (n.) rowdy, unmannerly behaviour.
Black Friday has never been a "thing" in this country, until this year. We have always traditionally had "Boxing Day" sales, which are held December 26th. Apparently this isn't enough, and we must follow the US in this extra day of madness, as we seem to do in everything else. Please don't complain about the fact that this poem isn't broken into "stanzas" - if you can't follow 14 consecutive lines, feel free to hit "skip". My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: flux-ale (n.) poor quality ale; drink that will cause digestive problems.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Unrest rolls, like a storm, across the land;
an ill wind blows, and hearts are filled with fear.
Clouds, dark and menacing, obscure the sky;
the doomsdayers predict the end is near.
Yet, flooding rain one day gives way to sun,
and meanwhile serves to fill the thirsty stream.
This sad unweather, too, shall one day pass;
and dreamers, once again, feel free to dream.
Author Notes |
Today's word: unweather (n.) bad weather; a storm or tempest.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: public domain, from www.pixabay.com |
By CD Richards
They gave him a standing ovation;
he strode to the stage with elation.
But his act was no good,
"I'm so misunderstood!"
So he left, to great exsibilation.
Author Notes |
Today's word: exsibilation (n.) the hissing or jeering of a performer from a stage.
Not everyone is cut out for their job. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
When skies grow dark and winds begin to howl,
the animals seek shelter from the storm.
One rusty panel on our ancient shed
is threatening to sail across the field.
The whirlybird that sits upon our roof
spins crazily, as if it were possessed.
Our poor dog, Bella, wants to run and hide;
she looks to us to make the noises stop.
Yet, storms in these parts never last for long,
and soon the clouds and rain give way to sun.
The herd, from shelters, gladly ventures forth,
in search of newly sprouted fresh green pick.
The wildest tempests never get us down,
for each and ev'ry one precedes a lown.
Author Notes |
Today's word: lown (adj. or n.) a calm or quiet state, an area of calm seas.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Arctician: (n.) a polar explorer.
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Our very own poet extraordinaire, Gloria, has been having way too much fun recently writing about one particular cow (well, actually a steer); so I thought if I worked one into my poem, some of her talent might be channeled. Alas, it seems I was wrong. :)
Image courtesy of NASA (public domain). Today's word: astrobleme (n.) an eroded impact crater, caused by a meteorite or asteroid. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Upon this day in nineteen-fifty-five,
one Rosa Parks got on a downtown bus,
not knowing a new era would arrive,
or she would be the cause of so much fuss.
The driver had instructed four black folk
to take their "proper" places at the rear.
Rosa, alone, thought that request a joke
and answered, "I don't think so, thank you dear."
The woman was arrested for affray
and fined ten dollars for her heinous crime;
but then, the issue wouldn't go away—
could segregation stand the test of time?
The victims of injustice stood their ground,
and for a year, refused to ride the bus.
The judgement of the court was clear and sound,
"This conduct's unacceptable to us."
Montgomery became a landmark case,
obstrigillation paid a dividend.
Discrimination rears its ugly face,
but empathy can bring it to an end.
Author Notes |
Today's word: obstrigillation (n.) the action of opposing or resisting; an act of defiance.
December 1, 2018 marks the first ever "Rosa Parks Day" in Alabama, 63 years after her history-making trip. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Photo: Lieske Leunissen-Ritzen [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
There once was a perchist named Sky,
who swang her trapeze way too high.
With dread on her face,
she soared into space,
while tearfully waving goodbye!
Author Notes |
Today's word: perchist (n.) a trapeze artist.
For those who take issue with line two, I offer the following: The verb 'to swing' is an irregular verb, whose forms are 'swing - swang - swung'. If in doubt, think 'ring - rang - rung'. Photo: The image is a public domain picture of Valentina Tereshkova, the real first woman in space. Sensibly, she chose a Vostok rocket, rather than a trapeze to take her there. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The facts count for nothing, they're buried in spin;
I'll swear down is up and that outside is in.
Who cares if the truth is stretched painfully thin?
What matters the most is that my view must win.
A boulevard-journalist— that is my trade.
I don't like your views, so I'll launch a tirade;
appeal to a crowd that is easily swayed,
they won't comprehend that they're just being played.
To triumph is easy — just hurl sticks and stones,
promote a conspiracy, using hushed tones.
Pay heed to my voice, I'm the great Alex Jones;
although I am special, I've thousands of clones.
We're media megaphones, that much is true;
and if you don't like us, you haven't a clue.
Not buying our hype? You're not red-white-and-blue!
There's a special place waiting in hell, just for you.
Author Notes |
boulevard-journalist (n.) an unscrupulous or exploitative journalist.
"Infowars" (see title) is the name of the website run by the shock-jock named in this piece. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Photo: Sean P. Anderson from Dallas, TX, USA [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: geoplanarian (n.) someone who believes the Earth is flat.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Victor Victoria at English Wikipedia [Public domain or CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)] |
By CD Richards
Do I believe in portents, omens, signs?
Can crystal balls predict tomorrow's news?
I might admit that after a few wines
I could, conceivably, accept such views.
For Nostradamus had such great success,
though he achieved it quite posthumously.
Then, some would have it that I must confess
concerning John, the son of Zebedee,
that his predictions are in part proved true,
and many more, in time, shall be fulfilled.
Or were some vague prognostications used
as tools with which a hopeful throng could build
their vision of a future victory,
in contrast to the darkness of their days?
Is there a chance these harbingers could be
a trick by which the clever can amaze
some people so determined to believe
in something... anything... out of the norm?
Just look at modern prophets to perceive
how easily this fits in with their form.
A simple formula will handle it:
suggest a premonstrance, vague is the best;
then future devotees select a fit
from countless explanations -- passed the test!
I see no reason we should waste our time
in fear of things we have no means to change.
Such efforts lack in reason and in rhyme,
and, frankly, seem to me a little strange.
So, when the soothsayers begin their spin,
just smile and send them quickly on their way;
be thankful that you were not taken in,
and concentrate on living for today.
Author Notes |
Today's word: premonstrance (n.) a portent, an omen.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Michele de Nostredame (Nostradamus), public domain. |
By CD Richards
"What am I bid?" the man up front
demanded us to tell.
"A billion quid!" the cattle man
responded, in a yell.
"I'll make it two," the miner roared,
"I can't get enough coal!"
"It's three from me," the logger cried,
"and I'll throw in my soul!"
"We'll start at eight," the auctioneer
declared; his face was grim.
The diamond merchant offered twelve,
responding on a whim.
"Twelve billion pounds is not enough,"
the oil tycoon chimed in,
"I'd be ashamed if chicken feed
allowed that jerk to win."
The bidding went at blinding pace,
for best part of an hour;
and in the end, all but the one
were left with faces sour.
"At 30 billion pounds, I got
a bargain," muttered he,
"and now, I own the land, the air
and almost all the sea."
The licitation ended with
the gavel's hammer sound;
to satisfy a billionaire,
the cost proved quite profound.
And so, the kings of industry
determined our net worth,
thus making sure we'll be the last
to walk on planet Earth.
Author Notes |
The figures thrown about in this piece -- a billion to thirty billion -- might seem ridiculously low to "purchase" the Earth. However, in industries such as mining, agriculture, fisheries and forestry, decisions are made all over the world every day involving these sorts of figures, any one of which could have the ability to cost our children their future.
Today's word: licitation (n.) to sell at auction; to sell to the highest bidder. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Better listen to these words I say
Urban transport's no walk in the park
Taxi drivers can be good or bad
They can rob you blind, just for a lark
Expectations of them are quite high
Rude and nasty clients make demands
Better get your act together, lads
Or you'll find yourself in the bad lands
Yellow cabs - De Niro understands
Author Notes |
Today's word: butterboy (n.) a new or trainee taxicab driver; a rookie.
My book says the term refers to a newly qualified driver because he takes the "butter", or earnings, from other drivers. Another site I happened across says the term comes from the description of young drivers as "but a boy". To my surprise, when I Googled the term, I discovered butterboy appears to have acquired a more recent meaning, which I don't see any need to go into here. * The "De Niro" reference is to the 1976 Martin Scorsese film Taxi Driver, starring Robert De Niro, Jodie Foster and Cybill Shepherd. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: public domain, see the following link for details: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Taxi_driver_movieposter.jpg |
By CD Richards
The pontiff's quite advanced in years, you know;
and frequently his movements are quite slow.
He takes his time in transport, plush,
for he is seldom in a rush,
no matter where His Hooliness may go.
Author Notes |
Today's word: hooliness (n.) slowness, gentility; lateness, tardiness.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: CC0 (public domain). |
By CD Richards
Last night up in the sky above our shed
I saw approaching from the east-south-east,
an object that quite filled my heart with dread—
'twas forty feet across at very least.
This craft that seemed to fly out of a dream
expressed its vile intentions with no doubt.
It sucked a cow up in its tractor beam,
then seconds later, spat the carcass out.
I know it helped exacerbate my fears,
I'd just been watching X-Files on TV;
while downing half a carton's worth of beers
and could have smoked a joint, or maybe three.
A saucerian? Yes, of course I am,
so don't you dare suggest it's all a sham!
Author Notes |
Today's word: saucerian (n.) a believer in flying saucers.
Disclaimer #1: No, I'm not promoting drunken debauchery, or drug use. It's a poem. Disclaimer #2: No, I'm not really a saucerian. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
inkyo (n.) the act of resigning or renouncing your position or office.
In 1969, Laurence J. Peter and Raymond Hull published the satirical book, The Peter Principle. The main idea of the book is that people tend to rise through the ranks, adopting positions of increasing responsibility, until they eventually end up in a job at which they are hopelessly incompetent. One doesn't have to look far to find very notable and public examples of this phenomenon. This poem suggests the possibility that, having found oneself in such a position, the honourable and face-saving course of action might be to relinquish the position before the decision is taken out of one's hands. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
I'm not an alcoholic,
I'll swear this much is true.
It's this damned book, I promise—
I wouldn't lie to you.
Imbibing is the subject
at least each second day—
one final stirrup-cup
and I'll be on my way.
Author Notes |
Today's word: stirrup-cup (n.) one last drink before departure; a parting glass.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: public domain, downloaded from www.pexels.com |
By CD Richards
Some people think our three score years and ten*
are just a blip for our immortal souls;
that our reward's determined, say these men,
by how it is we choose to play our roles.
I don't believe my life's a practice run—
a weak abbozzo, just a passing phase;
a paltry test drive, soon to be outdone.
Such thoughts would lead me into a malaise.
The thing that brings true meaning to our lives
is surely that one day we reach the end.
The only part of us that still survives
is stored within the minds of loves and friends.
The prize you seek's already underway,
so learn to make the most of each new day.
Author Notes |
Today's word: abbozzo (n.) a rough draft or preliminary sketch.
* "The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." Psalm 90:10. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
The facts are rather clear about this periplus called life—
it isn't always easy, and is often full of strife.
For most, there'll also be some happy times of peaceful calm—
most often when we're feeling loved, and far removed from harm.
Yet, in the end, this journey's one that no one will survive;
so we should make the most of it, while ever we're alive.
Let's fill our days with happiness and mirth; not fret and fuss—
for there is little doubt at all, the last laugh is on us.
Author Notes |
Today's word: periplus (n.) a written account of a grand expedition; or the journey itself.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: hempen-widow (n.) a woman whose husband has been hanged.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
An ancient mariner set out to Thule for a dare,
for no one knew what sort of strange folk he'd encounter there.
But when he landed, it would seem things took a nasty turn,
though how he died, or when, is something we have yet to learn.
So, if you have a hankering to go exploring, then
it might be best to take along a crew of sturdy men
and women, for you know not what disturbing things you'll find—
in numbers, there is safety, and a certain peace of mind.
But if you should meet up with fierce and warlike foreign folk,
it's wise to take it soberly, not treat it as a joke.
Best keep your silence, don't be one who's known to run his mouth,
and if it all should turn to crap, turn tail and head back south!
Author Notes |
Today's word: Thule (n.) an extreme point, or the extreme point of a journey of discovery. Pronounced "thoo-lee".
An early Greek explorer named Pytheas wrote of a journey to Thule in the 4th century BC. Iceland, Greenland, Norway and northern Scotland have all been suggested as possible locations for the "ends of the Earth" he describes. The word is apt for today, as it was on this day in 1911 that Roald Amundsen and his team reached the South Pole. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Unknown Unknown author [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
This house, floor to rafters, is grunge.
It's time, all this filth, to expunge.
So let's take the plunge,
it's out with the sponge.
Our home we will now scurryfunge!
Author Notes |
Today's word: scurryfunge (v.) to hastily tidy a house.
The rhyme scheme for limericks is AABBA. However, according to my extensive study of algebra, if we allow that A=B, then AAAAA is also AABBA, and so we have the monolimerick. Anyway, I thought I'd try it, you can be the judge ;-) My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image by Nick Youngson, Alpha Stock Images (http://alphastockimages.com/) Licence: CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/). |
By CD Richards
Some hold that mass extinctions are all planned,
the work of some malignant super-force;
but I don't buy that some celestial hand
conspired to send a meteor off course
to wipe out all the dinosaurs on Earth
or sent a flood which caused all life to drown.
I can't believe that tale, for what it's worth;
such cruel malevolence would get me down.
Apocalyptic scenes are prophesied,
the end's foreseen, so therefore come it must.
Another fearful act of omnicide—
this planet and all on it turned to dust.
Yet, when the end is nigh, I think we'll find
the agent of destruction is mankind.
Author Notes |
Today's word: omnicide (n.) the destruction of everything.
When all else fails, go back to the good old staples of doom, gloom, and death on a global scale. In my defence, what choice did I have? Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image from maxpixel.net, public domain. |
By CD Richards
From time to time things may not go our way,
we get in trouble for the words we say;
and often when our lot turns sad and blue
it's all resulting from the things we do.
Now, here's a plan adopted by the best,
I'm serious, in case you think I jest;
confusion throws a smokescreen 'round your sins—
the most deceitful player always wins.
Ensure your statements don't make any sense;
without a clue, it's hard to take offence.
The best defence when folk become irate
is simply this: learn to bamblusterate.
Author Notes |
Today's word: bamblusterate (v.) to hoax, to confuse.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Liar! Posted by Stewart Black to https://www.flickr.com/photos/s2ublack/28565693670. CC 2.0 licence (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/#), unmodified. |
By CD Richards
When Absalom took on his dad
it only served to make him sad.
This master-daddy met his end
as Joab's spear, his flesh, did rend.
Author Notes |
Today's word: master-daddy (n.) a wearisome or precocious child, one trying to outdo their parents.
The story of David, Absalom and Joab is too complicated to repeat here. Suffice to say it's a typical Biblical story of incestual rape, murder, arson and lust for power. All with the aim of teaching important moral truths, of course. In so far as this poem is concerned, the important thing is that Absalom sought to usurp his Father as King of Judah. Although David himself did not want his son harmed for his treachery, the young man still met a sticky end after the donkey he was riding galloped off and left him dangling by his hair from a tree -- got to love the creativity. You can read all about it in 2 Samuel, chapters 13 to 18. Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
Author Notes |
Today's word: emption (n.) the act of purchasing something.
Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
It seems there's been an oversight,
the Queen and Prince, I think just might
have overlooked my 'invite' to their lunch;
for of this fact I am quite sure,
there's no one they would rather more
see at their place, enjoying Christmas brunch.
If you think otherwise, you're kidding,
I'll soon receive my piper's-bidding—
away with you and your mistaken hunch!
Author Notes |
Today's word: piper's-bidding (n.) a last-minute invitation.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: Public domain. |
By CD Richards
All hark the heralded good news,
I'm here to fix the Eden blues
and save your wretched souls from fires of hell.
A present I have sent to you—
my own dear child; the chosen few
will follow him and all will be just swell.
Let him grow up, then do him in—
he'll be my scapegoat for your sin,
though sacrificial lambs are hardly novel.
An innocent will bear the cost
for those who currently are lost;
providing they are quite prepared to grovel.
So, you'd best take me up on this
if you would see eternal bliss,
or otherwise, it won't be fun and games.
Consider it a love-drury
in order that you be set free
from roasting like old chestnuts in the flames.
Now, if you can't buy this idea
I'd like to make it really clear
that what you want's not really my concern;
for I'm divine, and you are not.
If you don't like it, you can rot
below— a lesson most of you will learn.
So there it is, from up on high—
(I see a Comet passing by,
a Donner, Cupid and a Blitzen, too).
Just as this verse is now confused,
so you've no right to feel abused—
although I clearly didn't think this through.
For I wish not one human ill
except the billions I know will
be suffering in torment evermore.
It's not my fault, so don't blame me,
just stick the angel on the tree,
for doom and gloom is something I abhor!
Merry Christmas!
Author Notes |
Today's word: love-drury (n.) a love-token, a gift of love.
Normally, I wouldn't "upset" the festive spirit of the season by posting a poem like this at this time of year. However, just an hour or two ago I read a poem warning those who don't buy the "traditional" Christmas narrative exactly what would be waiting for them on the other side. This served to remind me that there is a dark side to the little baby Jesus story. What becomes of all those who don't get a warm, fuzzy feeling about this story of punishing the innocent to protect the guilty? Well, quite a number of people made their opinions quite clear. For the countless individuals who are prepared to silently accept the somewhat unsavoury flipside of the "salvation" story, here is the same narrative, viewed from the perspective of one who doesn't buy it. My aim is not to ruin anyone's Christmas, or rain on anybody's parade -- as if that is going to happen. It's simply to present the idea that sometimes "good news" is not as good as it seems, when we think about it. I hope everyone reading, regardless of their faith or lack of it has a wonderful Christmas, or whatever it is they celebrate at this time of year. |
By CD Richards
I'm not a cruciverbalist,
although I've done a few,
and when I have, I've sometimes struggled
with a tricky clue.
I'll take a guess quite frequently
or go with a vague hunch.
An intersection's often easy;
not so much, an unch.
The cryptic versions, I will skip—
they're difficult, I find.
I'm sure they must be easier
for those with twisted minds!
The time's arrived for me to go,
I'm feeling at a loss.
I need to put my mind at ease
by solving six across.
Author Notes |
Today's word: unch (n.) an unchecked square in a crossword puzzle that is used in one word.
Also, a cruciverbalist is a compiler or enthusiast of crossword puzzles. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
From a snow-covered forest, coniferous
Dashes one who's quite clearly doniferous
He can make a child's day
At the sight of his sleigh
This rotund, jolly elf, quite vociferous
Author Notes |
Today's word: doniferous (adj.) carrying a gift.
One week to go... My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: CC0 licence (public domain). Source: pixabay.com |
By CD Richards
My stomach's full up, I'm relaxed and well-rested;
my yule-hole is now in a spot quite untested.
I've eaten much more than my good sense demanded
and, as a result, my poor waistline's expanded.
Of choc'lates and cherries I've quite had my fill,
my face has been stuffed 'til I'm now feeling ill.
Yet, still I can brag without lying, because
I'm twice the man now than this morning I was.
Author Notes |
yule-hole (n.) the hole you must move your belt buckle to after eating Christmas lunch.
Merry Christmas! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image: Ana Felix [CC BY 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons. Resized and colours added by me. Thanks for reading. |
By CD Richards
Dear me! Excuse my flatulence;
it seems I might have lost all sense
of manners and decorum— golly gee!
I can't escape this crapulence,
my sickly tummy's made me tense;
I'm only grateful that I didn't pee
myself, for clearly that would mean
a change of pants, and I'd be seen
as someone who can't hold their liquor in.
So be a dear, and fetch a cup
of tea, I need to sober up—
and while you're at it, lose that silly grin!
Author Notes |
Today's word: crapulence (n.) a feeling of sickness caused by overeating or drinking.
Yes, it's a real word, and was first included in a dictionary in 1727, although the adjectival form, crapulent, preceded it by some 70 years or so. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Thanks for reading. Image: pixabay.com; CC0 licence (public domain). |
By CD Richards
In veins that flow with ice there is no cheer
Cold comfort's all I feel when you are near
Enjoyment, we once had, through things we shared
But now, I wonder if you ever cared
Our tide has turned, and in the ebb and flow
Love took the opportunity to go
Time to admit our ship has long since sailed
Such promise, we once showed; too bad we failed
Author Notes |
ice-bolt (n.) an avalanche.
The earlier meaning of the word was "a piercing sensation of cold". In more recent times it has become a synonym for avalanche. I have gone more for the original meaning here. Also, I have used the plural form, to give me an even number of lines for the acrostic. Lastly, if this is based in part on actual events, they were a long time ago. Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. Image credit: dahu1 [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
By CD Richards
Oh look, I've created a muddle—
I told her I wanted to cuddle.
She started to scoff,
"You can't put it off—
"get into that kitchen and scuddle!"
Author Notes |
Today's word: scuddle (v.) to wash dishes.
Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
I'm not prepared for my demise
and so, I beg, don't morganise
me; I won't tell a soul the things you did.
My lips are sealed, the book is closed;
to violence, I am opposed.
Your secret shall remain most safely hid.
I'm not a stoolie or a snitch,
I have no need to be so rich
that I would sell you out on just a whim.
These concrete boots weigh far too much,
I think this chain's an unkind touch—
please take me back to land, I cannot swim!
Author Notes |
Today's word: morganise (v.) to assassinate someone to prevent them from disclosing information.
Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
My memory's not what it used to be
Not ev'rything is crystal clear, you see
Each episode is stored some place in there
Much of the time I'm just not quite sure where
Our mind can make use of some little tricks
No need to look for miracles to fix
It, for a well-known phrase or word
Can aid our recollection, though absurd
One little clue can clarify it all
No doubt, these aids can help with our recall
Author Notes |
mnemonicon (n.) a device to aid memory.
This word would appear to be just an alternative form of mnemonic, but why settle for one word, when we can have two almost the same, which mean the same thing? This poem takes the form of an acrostic, which is, of course, a form of mnemonic. I'll be away from home for a couple of days, and as my remaining time for this project coincides with our trip away, it will be more difficult to spend time online. For this reason, I've posted twice today, to try and get a day ahead. That means just one more poem in the next two days, and we're all done! Thanks for reading. My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. |
By CD Richards
It's been a long journey, exactly a year.
Those present at outset are mostly still here,
while others have kindly joined in on the way
on this, my year's quest for a new word a day.
But sadly, all things one day come to an end,
just as has the book on which these words depend.
To those who have shared their insightful reviews—
a huge vote of thanks from myself and my muse.
Your wisdom and humour have made the job fun,
I hope that your new year will be a great one.
I'll still be here writing, I trust you will too;
today's little poem's my handsel to you.
Author Notes |
Today's word: handsel (n.) A New Year's gift.
Happy New Year to all! My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book. (P.S. It was.) |
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