English

Selected Proverbs

A fool and his hair are soon parted.
Do not put all your baskets on one egg.
People who live in glasshouses shouldn’t.
Summer comes before a Fall.

Don’t count your line drawings before they are hatched.
History repeats itself.
If at first you don’t suck seed, try, try a grain.
Incidents will happen.

A flat tyre will get you nowhere.
A watched pot gathers no moss.
Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to be Fish
and he’ll ask Kayleigh whether it’s too late to say he’s sorry.

He who hesitates is … um …
Don’t get mad, get even madder.
A leotard cannot change its spots.
History repeats itself.

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The Unsound Alphabet

The question ‘Can you spell that for me, please?’
when I am on the phone and ill at ease
is enough to fill my heart with dread
because the words that pop into my head

come randomly, unplanned, frenetic:
my examples panicked, unphonetic.
I should take time to think. Just wait a while.
But no, ‘A,’ I will blurt, ‘as in … “aisle”.’

“Bdellium” I declare to illustrate B
(bravo for knowing that’s gum from a tree).
No Charlie for me, rather “Czar” I will cry.
My D is “Djibouti”. My E is an “eye”.

At least with F, I cannot go wrong
although “floccinaucinihilipilification” is probably too long.
It’s like aural GBH. “Gnat” and “honour” don’t work.
My choice for I must be starting to “irk”.

For reasons unclear, my J is a “Juan”.
Of all the Ks I could choose, “knee” is the one.
For L, a place-name! But not Lima, oh no:
“Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.”

‘That’s right, M,’ I blather, ‘as in “mnemonic”.’
People generally “ngwee”, my N is moronic.
“Ouija” I offer. No Oscar for me.
For P, “pterodactyl”, for Q I use “quay”.

Which is the right “right” to write? It’s a farce!
They must think I’m talking out of my Rs.
I declare ‘S as in “sea”.’ I can’t take it back,
like T for “Tchaikovsky”, a tough nut to crack.

Then there’s “urn” and “volk”, I know it’s far-fetched.
My W attempt makes me feel such a “wretch”.
I talk of “Xylophones”, “Yttrium” and old “Zaragoza”.
All hopeless, unsound. I just shouldn’t bother.

The Pedents’ Re-volt

Its not eazy being a pedent
correcting others’ mis-takes all daylong
My freinds and me are totally sic
of observing gramma witch has gone wrong.

“Whom are these language offenders”?,
“could it be that I maybe one, to”
Their ignorant; stupid, and careless:
off gramma they have’nt a clue.

They’re speling is sutch an embarrasment
its’ amature, wired, and, abserd,
comprized of neither thought or intelligance,
to a dictionary they should of refered.

Writing down there awkwardly formed sentences,
the participle clauses are left dangling.
just made one less mistake each would have the affect
to dramatically reduce this language mangling.