Language of Poets

LANGUAGE OF POETS For a moment let’s linguistically speak. Men have their self imposed limit They choose to make their language bleak To women it’s nonsense – no word is unfit No man would normally say It was a delightful day Or a child is so sweet or lovable Or a cat so cute or adorable Or that pretty pink flowers are – well - Pretty pink flowers….hell, We’re guys after all and, Hey, We can’t allow ourselves to say A certain forbidden word A word that shouldn’t be heard. Other men may think we’re Not real men - they won’t come near. Imagine if Keats felt that way His love’s “tender taken breath”, say, * Would have to become ”her wheezing” To allow for male-listener pleasing Wordsworth “could not but be gay” ** He ‘d have to be just “kinda happy” - A lot more macho in its way And poetically kinda snappy. God preserve me from such buffoonery ‘Cos without doubt I’d sooner re- read Wordsworth or Keats Their words complete and effete are such treats. Note: * Bright Star, by John Keats ** I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, by William Wordsworth