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
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