Half a Dozen of the Other
grooveamatic
Posts: 1,374
Yet to see a gray hair
Or a hot flash,
Handfuls of twenty-something
Folks who spend
Their time around me
Or doing the things I do
Have taken to using a strange,
Cryptic language,
Forwarding oddities such as
Working Hard or Hardly Working?
And, the time-honored
(but rarely time-honoring)
Long Time No See,
And a slew
Of other such humdrum.
It is impossible to feel
My own last shards of spryness
Remain intact:
They disappear along with
The ever-changing,
In-the-moment
Language of children.
Young folks say crazy things
That make almost-sense.
Their tested and proven
Colloquialisms
Change yearly, nay:
Weekly.
Old folks
(or at least folks
who can imagine being old,
or who have grown enough sense
to fear growing any more sense)
Say things which fit snugly
Year after year
With meanings as solid
As an ivory tooth;
Phrases which piles
Of generations have battered
So relentlessly that any meaning
Must be derived from lineage charts
And invoices preserved
From wooden boats.
And now my own peers have fallen prey
To the comforts of historical language,
And so have I.
I now protest youthful slang
By instructing the brats to shut up,
Speak the King’s English,
And how do you like
Them apples?
Or a hot flash,
Handfuls of twenty-something
Folks who spend
Their time around me
Or doing the things I do
Have taken to using a strange,
Cryptic language,
Forwarding oddities such as
Working Hard or Hardly Working?
And, the time-honored
(but rarely time-honoring)
Long Time No See,
And a slew
Of other such humdrum.
It is impossible to feel
My own last shards of spryness
Remain intact:
They disappear along with
The ever-changing,
In-the-moment
Language of children.
Young folks say crazy things
That make almost-sense.
Their tested and proven
Colloquialisms
Change yearly, nay:
Weekly.
Old folks
(or at least folks
who can imagine being old,
or who have grown enough sense
to fear growing any more sense)
Say things which fit snugly
Year after year
With meanings as solid
As an ivory tooth;
Phrases which piles
Of generations have battered
So relentlessly that any meaning
Must be derived from lineage charts
And invoices preserved
From wooden boats.
And now my own peers have fallen prey
To the comforts of historical language,
And so have I.
I now protest youthful slang
By instructing the brats to shut up,
Speak the King’s English,
And how do you like
Them apples?
.........................................................................
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
Just as much as your poem!
Just wanted to say hi!
PS STill saving up for that surfboard:);)
A whisper and a chill
adv2005
"Why do I bother?"
The 11th Commandment.
"Whatever"
PETITION TO STOP THE BAN OF SMOKING IN BARS IN THE UNITED STATES....Anyone?
fell from sight
but I caught it /\ midflight...
Prefering HONEY
to a spelling bee.
I beheld Newtons
law of gravity...
all to please
a hunger that cannot feed
the tree planted by he
the moment of
relativity.
Go figure...
smile, I'm just drifting...out to seeaaa
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green