Best Dictionary Poems
UNDEFINED (a true story)
The morning after the total housefire, 52 years ago, when
the journalist asked the elderly man,
“How do you feel after this tragic, sudden death of your wife?”
I’d expected to hear a few sad words
in response to the intrusive question,
But his unforgettable answer changed my life,
As he stated, “I looked up ‘grief’ in the dictionary
and none of the definitions listed fit what I was feeling.”
In the on-screen, hanging silence
Created by his unexpected response,
The interview ended there, holding on to
a side shot of the old man backing away
— with his new weight from the loss
of home and wife…
As he shrugged his shoulders
While letting go a great sigh, and
To define in that last shown moment,
In universal body language,
The Un-knowing
That may wallow within us
Around our resignation to grow past difficult times,
To venture out again to
Places where things may lay as yet undefined
and, therefore, beyond control…
Where tears may for awhile be our sole recourse
To stand for the words of our sorrows
That we share kneeling in prayer for some
Divine guidance to face the further exigencies of life.
——————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/ 2024
Syllable planets,
In a universe of words:
Galaxy of ink.
The Buddhists say: "If you used a raft to cross the river, there is no need to drag it along further". Oh, my good old dictionary! You're my raft in the great water of English language. Alas, we'll always be together.
I'm through half my life
but I've not reached the middle
of the river yet
*
The American Heritage Medical Dictionary
defines "Psychopath" in the following category;
"A person with an antisocial personality disorder,
especially one manifested in perverted, criminal or amoral behavior."
*
The following is in response to the above anonymously
from one who displays key symptoms of Psychopathy.
*
Misunderstood
I'm not prone to violence,
but I have no conscience.
I'm aware of happiness, saddness and every emotion,
but I lack the ability to feel any of them.
Every smile and tear I display I always fake.
I study the behaviour of others and assimilate,
but not so much as a conscious deception.
I'm just desperatly attempting to fit in.
My world is one of me surrounded by alians
whose lives are apparently dictated by their emotions.
I cannot make a connection with any of them
and so I live most of my life in isolation.
I have lost my share of so called loved ones
but I never for a moment grieved for any of them.
One cannot grieve when one does not know emotion.
I have an accurate awareness of what is right and wrong
Like so many I strive to be good. I want to belong,
but I'll never know what it feels like to love, cry or laugh,
and I too have been diagnosed a psychopath.
*
Throughout most of my life I have made an ATTEMP to overcome each and every STRUGGLE and ABOMINATION with which I have been faced. Doing this makes me CHERISH the FLAME of love and desire to do better which burns brightly in my INNER SOUL. With a YEARNING to be TENDER I try to deflect all SCORN, but the AFFECTION of a toxic RELATIONSHIP will often mask one’s PASSION. Just like the beautiful BLOOM of a poppy might BAMBOOZLE and mislead, where it could easily make one oblivious to the cancerous TASTE inside called cocaine.
This was pure conjecture for the contest, it does not apply to me. JT
Rehearsing my lines with passion
And yearning for her affection
A redhead flame, I was keen to meet
Desiring a meaningful relationship
My inner soul would cherish the touch of her tender lips
And the taste of salt from a shared packet of chips
But each attempt to connect was a struggle
Like that of a soldier fighting another’s battle
The fear of scorn is courtship’s doom
But soldiering on might see love bloom
Despite the abomination of rejection, I was undeterred
Cupid’s bamboozle, I’d outwit and find my love
I don't understand the dictionary
It's really quiet frustrating you see
Whenever I go to look up one word
I end up looking up three
while figuratively hunting
and pecking around me noggin
force hum theme to write about
lo and behold, the solution
stared me right in front
of my little knob nub nose with gentle clout
cuz, as an avid bookworm, the dictionary,
I enjoy expending hours
to drink up etymological history
relating to the origin and
historical development of words
and their meanings.
with no shadow of a doubt
and most times, this animatronic,
the technique of making and operating
lifelike robots, typically for use
in film or other entertainment
dogmatic, enigmatic fugee dooby
brother beastie boy
(actually a mwm) dislikes to flout
his abilities, hobbies, interests,
as aches hike kant imagine being treated for gout
a disease in which defective metabolism
of uric acid causes arthritis, especially
in smaller bones of the feet, deposition
of chalkstones, and episodes of acute pain.
Boot lemme return full circle
to thematic core curriculum aye started to aim
and express gratitude
to the ghost of Noah Webster,
who gets credit yet also blame
if some snide haughty guttersnipe,
some slovenly individual feels snubbed,
and hence, living personage, said descendent(s)
of oblivion, whatever unknown
man or woman to living persons
stake a valid claim
that his/her many generations removed
heir (Harris), and or heiress ancestor (proven
with tangible researched reportage,
then cited with countless
prestigious explorers of English language),
that a daunting scrivener perhaps
even a courtesan or rich dame
rightfully ought to receive the fame,
thus such living relative might
upend the huck cult personality be game
to dare challenge secure historical niche
ambitiously held by Mark Roget (1779–1869),
British physician, natural theologian
and lexicographer. It was released
to the public on 29 April 1852.
The original edition had 15,000 words,
and each new matured edition
of the Thesaurus grew larger.
I am the Abomination that you must escape from
day in and day out
My Inner soul will love you for always.
The Affection of your touch was only ever too tender
the thing I cherished most from life back then.
You stopped by yesterday… Why I’m not sure
I got scorned by my foes
for being with you again `
but I don’t care
the bloom in happiness you gave me
was incredible
…but I should’ve known better.
The Flame we previously shared was rekindled
Our relationship was heaven last time
while it lasted.
I can’t get attached again to you,
just to be torn apart
from all I knew….
The taste of your cologne is miserable because
My passion for you is stronger
than the mountains are old.
I know better, but I’m Yearning for your touch once more
you grab hold of my heart
Swing me around like a waltz
I am bamboozled by your charm
the shine in your eyes
I struggle in attempt to tear myself apart from you, again
All the ones I have ever loved
I’ve lost in the past.
You mean too much to me…. I can’t get attached
Ever again
I am archaic and forgotten these are my dusty tomes
The perennial deipnosophist verbally alone
With flowing ink my guide, the page my diligent doxy
I capriciously choose my diction and propose my proxy
A peccant periapt around thy neck, I’ll drag thee
Along the hyperborean, yet sullen, road you see
Hoarfrost coated little old me helpless and miserly
Carry on, my linguistics are aged unfortunately
The bruit is that the caducity of my tenure is
The reason for this rhyme; I digress and must stress that this
This, is but a puzzle, it is but a conundrum.
I'll let you decipher amongst the humdrum
addICT - computer nerd with obsessive will
convICT – cybercriminal with pockets to fill
contradICTion - system error likely a fatal fault
afflICTion - computer bug everything grinds to a halt
evICT - delete files not required
verdICT – output results so desired
restrICTion – cybersecurity all under lock and key
benedICTion - data protection means privacy for you and me
derelICT - system obsolescence the queue to scrap
vICTory - successful implementation the progress map
fICTion - virtual reality is all around
dICTate - speech recognition translates sound
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2021 March 21 *1st Place*
List With A Twist
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Yeah, just grab an old rusty shovel, a case of Bud Light and hop in the back of my red
pickup truck, because us country boys are heading down to Sweetwater Creek to hunt for
some rare species of dictionary. Boy, don't you worry about nothing. We got plenty of
ammo. Uncle Willie, you know them dictionaries got some powerful stuff.
Yeah, they got all kinds of words that I cain't spell or spit out my mouth. Some folks
say, you can use them fancy-polished words printed in a dictionary. You boys know better.
We can't read, write or arithmetic! Boys, we need to shake a stick, saddle up and go
rustle up some wild dictionaries. To capture a wild dictionary, you need to wear
specialized Desert Storm camouflaged gear, and be very quiet!
Boys, its time for the hunting dictionary expedition!
Now, big Willie, listen to me good, when we find this critter, I am not settling for a
handshake, because I need to bust a few caps in those hind parts with my double-pump
shotgun. Boy, be quiet. Do you hear something rattling behind them bushes? Hey, look down
yonder! Oh, Nellie, I got a big surprise for that old slick Willy dictionary.
Well, I am a Southern Boy, with a background in cannon artillery and fire weaponry. I will
deliver the final blow and knockout punch with my deluxe K-Mart special, double barrel
Winchester rifle, equipped with a high-powered scope, aiming right-between-the-eyes of
the victim.
Big Willie, You know stuff is going to fly in every direction. Now, its time to grab that
slippery dictionary right by the tail, fling it straight up in the air and shake the
cobwebs loose! Just in case, we might have to tap it with a few more rounds of buckshot
from my shotgun named big Shirley. You know, just so I can let it marinade.
Man, I am so cool, when I captured this black double-breasted Oxford dictionary, I skinned
it and cleaned it and turn it into a thesaurus.
Posted By: Gregory W Golden Dated 16 Oct 2006
English prides itself on being a well-spring of today’s language
like a magpie that freely picks up foreign words elsewhere
with an attempt to incorporate them into its richness of vocabulary;
a great endeavor that makes sense to be a global lexicon these days.
It’s a continuing effort that knows no barrier with other nations,
to the world of cultures with an attitude of openness and expansion;
widens one’s horizon and enables one to get a habit of insertion,
recognized as an inspiration that becomes a treasure trove of information.
Interesting it may be to find one’s word from a particular culture
that insertion in the dictionary which is a constant guide to everyone;
a close study, a reference to certain thoughts, backgrounds, and origins,
these words provide their meanings and usages in sentence constructions.
Yet their phonetic spellings are great indications to pronounce them well
according to history or origin that supply right definitions and implications,
their etymological meanings, derivations or other shades of meanings;
in their contextual variations or figurative implications thus far.
As they possess the power of meanings or as an identity of every word,
their roles make substance and clarity to what is necessary to understand;
they make a difference; they serve like guardian angels in every way,
whose central tenet and mission explore guidance and comprehension.
Webster’s, Oxford, McQuarie or Thesaurus as dictionaries used these days,
with idiomatic expressions provided in different contexts and origins;
however, profound or different as applied in many human situations,
they convey wisdom; so rich that many times they’re used in today’s parlance.
Words, words, words, as Hamlet famously moaned when Polonius asked him;
what he reads and wrestles with words and meanings generate an answer,
it’s the same thing with one’s attitude to consult or refer to a lexicon,
a dictionary, a thesaurus, or any similar print that provides meanings –
words that draw the link between history and experiences of humanity.
WHAT YOU DOING ON THAT BARSTOOL FOOL?
Is that what it takes for you to feel brave?
And why can’t you simply behave?
Don’t you realize it’s transience you crave?
And why do you secret youthful beauty within a cave?
Upon a time once did a wolf sleep with a lamb
Him with lethal teeth and her with a cute little curtsey and curls
That wolf who slept beside her didn’t give a damn
And never cared about the feelings for any of his young girls
silken sheets were where his advantage was taken
For the little lamb would obey his every demand
But by belittlement and a bastard was that lamb forsaken
And the bridge between fangs and curls could never be spanned
Oh but were the lamb to have been on Venus and the wolf upon Mars
Two different planets for two different hearts
The wolf’s teeth turned crimson while the lamb had her scars
As, from that little lamb the wolf purloined her prettiest parts
There was no running away for a lamb held captive in a cave
And fear doesn’t always lead a lamb far away from Mars
The universe isn’t sizable enough to hide what that wolf would crave
And today the memory of my being that wolf keeps me in shooting galleries and seedy bars
© 2011.….Poefree
A dictionary is fat like a chicken broil,
Because of the letter oil!