Best Polyglot Poems
Let me love you like a poet would do.
Let me bite on the lid of my pen, thinking of you.
Let me write you down on pieces of paper and scribble you
down on the back of notebooks.
Let me make sonnets to you and of you and fill your neck with haikus.
Let me translate you into polyglot texts and use dictionaries to decipher you.
Let me spill black coffee on my verses of you and delight
in every bittersweet thought of you.
Let me use metaphors to transform you
into a mockingbird or a blanket or a fresh morning dew.
Let me love you, so theatrically, so dramatically, let me
be the moron of all the oxymorons I use to describe you.
Let me engage in a long soliloquy trying to fathom you
and then weep helplessly, existentially like Hamlet would do.
Let me love you like a poet would do.
Let me love you with so much further ado.
Let me lose my senses and declaim my poetry to you,
and then lose myself in a jazz-like catharsis, singing to you.
Let me implode and explode into a million little words,
and a million little worlds loving you,
until I no longer am the poet.
Categories:
polyglot, love, passion, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Let me translate
My love for you
From written.... to spoken....to touched
From syllable sensuality
To physical functionality
From verbal to nonverbal virtual reality
Or better yet
Let me translate them into YOUR language
Yes, I’m a polyglot glutton
craving your satiation
Interjection velocity
Groan and grope physicality
Touch and tease and taste temerity
Chaste words undulating into unchaste carnality
Let me translate
In meanings that you understand
Points of reference that you rant and pant
In my ear…say it in a chant….
Over and over...
I won't let you recant
your forbidden fantasty frolic…
Baby...I’ll grant
Let me translate
Into the language of YOU
I understand
Your savage need laced with greed….
concede....every one...
to me
This wave won't recede
till that passion is freed...
by my deliciously devilish deed...
My pleasure peaks uncontrollably
Rocked in your volatility
Word translation ecstasy
Come together finality
Verbal.......
non-verbal.....
G~R*A~T*F~I*E~D
unity
So, just let me....
Let me translate
My love
For
You
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
polyglot, language, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
IMMIGRATION.
Are migrants proud Australians?
Our nation based on immigration,
One polyglot meld of humanity,
To Australia, show fidelity.
Our nation of peaceful tolerance,
People from Earth's shifting sands,
Living here in Great Southern Land,
Deployment should not be our dance,
Nothing wrong with loyalty,
Patriotism our children's legacy,
--Great Southern Land,
All welcome to be Australians!
Categories:
polyglot, appreciation, culture, encouraging, immigration,
Form:
Free verse
The Headless Greenlandic Horseman
A Meditation in 6 parts.
Avalanche
I.
The sky is starry
The night is scary
I'm very afraid
of the living dead;
On a mission; or Fugitives in the city
II.
The headless Greenlandic horseman
speaks Kalaallisut very well indeed,
plus Dansk and English! What a man!
A polyglot he is! Yes, sir! Although he
Is evil and wants to behead Mr. Donn
Oh! How horrible! How horrible! The
reason being, Donn owes him plenty
of money. More than 500.000 bucks!
Camera Obscura
III.
Mikko Donn (whose dad is Finnish) is a fugitive in the city
& Hansen, the cowboy from Kalaallit Nunaat, is his hunter;
500.000 U$ is that debt's figure, folks;
Oh! This is horrid! Truly horrid for sure!
I contemplate upon this very jittery and jumpy
Oh, I am scared! Oh, yes! I am scared!
Donn's head is at stake--because he's a debtor;
Another headless man? And multilingual again?
Isn't that whimsical? A headless man wants to
decapitate another man and both speak many
superb languages! That's admirable! Yes, sir!
Spasmodic Apostrophes
IV.
Ave Hansen, Morituri te Salutant
anthropologizing, vexillologizing;
Well, Donn's head is still extant.
Though, I dare ask, for how long?
Equestrian Interregnum
V.
Fear is what Donn feels
even down to his heels;
He feels he's gonna puke
even though he is a duke!
The philanderer's philter will save him no longer
The Greenlander and his plug are after him;
There's no escape--the event is rather grim;
He is doomed. Period. Good-bye, fishmonger!
Hurkle! Hurkle! Hurkle!
VI.
Donn's head is safe now. Why?
Because of my idea; Donn is a fish vendor
and has a friend who is a surgeon;
Therefore, I suggested "What about implanting
a fish's head on Hansen? Wouldn't it be nice?"
Donn okayed what I said & called his friend,
Mr. Sherry, the surgeon. Hansen accepted.
They made a deal. Besides the fish's head,
Donn has to teach Hansen Suomi, a
perfect language. And that's how this tale
ends. Hansen and Donn became friends
and ate partridges together.
Categories:
polyglot, best friend, city, courage,
Form:
Verse
"Have you called Brigit yet?" A friend to bawl and
Here she is, in times or tales of plight and fight,
peace and flight.
One year for every finger on each hand,
one to hold and one to rend.
Will you send me to the brig? To serve is
My only, gaols please? At ease Deedee!
Have I given ten years, ten tours, twin yours?
To win, Towing a boat, about the great blue
Blew sea, Ya so? The windy, windy day.
He, she, it knows by nose, line by line.
Tortured me, then? Shall I, aye, aye capt'n!
Anything else? De rein! The rain, knows things.
Deaf, dumb, and blind, am I.
Have I bought the illusion of chi-says?
'Bolt is the fastest, I am the slowest and the lowest.
There is de rein to due, except for all my debts.
Before I knew it, I signed on the dotted line- lye on.
Mortar and lye built this house, my love is a mouse.
I am a polyglot, fully human and humane, and animal
at best, and person without rest. Call on me, pourquoi?
A lifetime of slavery have I, et de rein. Ecoute!
Without the accent, I asked the Law'd to save my
Rave'n.
Categories:
polyglot, adventure, animal, brother, change,
Form:
Rhyme
It is a quite Sunday morning
It was a weird outing in the evening
We saw fuming ashes
We saw failed elephants
We heard the tales of fallen petals
We saw drifting continents of love and lust
It was a quite Sunday morning after a tepid Saturday night
I saw many men sulking under the weight of their own dreams
I heard many women lustfully languishing their tongue twisters
They were all eloquent
They were all spellbound
They were castrated
A Carnival in the oddest of the hours
A Caricature of my self and many other selves
Our pulses were travelling to Venus, Mars and Pluto
We were simmering in the heat of the market mongers
We were boiler plates to the typecasted experiments in human nature
Have you heard about Pavlov
Who embarked on an experiment to create machines in human mindset
Have you learned about Vygotsky
Who smiled at the smiling babies and loved their zones of evolution
Have you wept when Maykovsky shot dead himself
His poetry must have been boiling faster than his heart impulses
When I end up embracing the dichotomies of Mikhail Bakhtin
I know I have become a scoundrel, polyglot, a hedonist, pagan beast
When this hetroglossia unfolds and scarlet fevers engulf the nations
Fear of languages, life and all sort of glass house effects will prevail
Do you know the fissures in your palace
Do you know if it is made of marble, mosaic, or even a piece of pitch blend?
Now I know only about primordial stones and shadows
Who build pyramids and prisons in the middle of stone hinged and laggard society
Who are in multitudes, nameless, nation-less, necro-manic living echoes
I live their turquoise blue rings, silver palms, their mythical fear of tortoises
I dig a grave to heal their zest for anarchy, and to unwound their zeitgeist
Categories:
polyglot, allegory, angst, beautiful, character,
Form:
Free verse
Still,
Of her father
Even after hair in her armpit
After her four years sojourn in our citadel
With puberty wearing her a beautiful toga
She remains in the shadows of her father.
Of a Mary,
The father’s virgin
Slim, willowy and parrotic
Energetic, ever vivacious with life
An Amazon of a kind with a flawless curvature
Still, of her a Polyglot not a bigot
Her 21st years day was under his nose
She can neither sneeze nor
Cough of a man near him
Still tied to her father’s umbilical cord
She is not Virgin Mary
Of the Joseph the carpenter
But Mary, the Father’s Virgin
I laugh only to myself
As I dream and await the day the
Holy spirit will commingle with her
For her holy pregnancy
Mary, my Mary
Remembering my voyage
Of innate curiosity to her
And my emotional adventure into her life
Then, only then
As an innocent dare-devil teenager
Yet, I could not unlock her truest life
Oh! She regarded it as teenager’s world
Of lesser emotional journey
Then, and then
My dream to fly her like an eagle
Was dwarfed by her
But for many, the father’s virgin
I gave up not
For I like ‘morrow’s dream
Than the history of the past.
Alayande Stephen T.
21st of June 2007
10.15am
NB-Still in Iba, meant for Funke Mary Izobo,
A friend still tied to the Apron string of her father.
Categories:
polyglot, daughter, life, love, passion,
Form:
Blank verse
When did the arms of Lady Liberty turn inwards
Her torch extinguished; her poem long forgotten?
You have heard me say it often since begotten
That which makes America greatest is her diversity.
As a child, I learned some basics, some fundamentals—
Like from shore to shore, America is a vast melting pot,
A dynamic, living breathing linguistic polyglot
English, our native tongue, was not the first one here
When the founders set foot upon the Eastern shore
Cherokee, Shawnee, Iroquois tongues to them were new
Even today strange languages are spoken among a few
Mandarin, German, French and Spanish were planted here
Chinese and African labor, I know, were sadly exploited
German scientific knowledge was much appropriated
While French, Spanish, and Russian plots were integrated
Now, the contributions of all are gleefully rewarded.
The truth is that we all came from "foreign" countries
We diligently search for our long-hidden genealogy,
We must continue to welcome and help the refugee
Who want so much to call America their home.
Categories:
polyglot, america, history, language, new
Form:
Quatrain
The Latin words sopor quies
Sound just like Hebrew spor keves !
So to help you sleep deep,
We now tell you "count sheep !"
That pun's for a polyglot, yes?
Categories:
polyglot, deep, good night, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
You stare at those loud faces,
Keep your voice low, talk slow and eyes low,
Put down your plate and eat with your back hunched,
You would get a heart attack if they punched,
Always in company and never alone,
What if they catch you without your phone?
Bow down to God and still you fear,
They might start breathing in your ear,
Don’t utter a word and appear dull,
Compromise and sweet face cap your skull,
A lamb to the cruel and a polyglot to the farmer,
They love a lot for being such a charmer,
Walk as a speeding rocket and stare ahead of them,
They would put you in their pocket if you went ahead of them,
A phony monument of etiquette and civilized upbringing,
Only makes you run when their bell comes ringing,
Always play safe and go by the golden rule,
Silence and fragility your perfect tools,
Sincere and obedient wearing the goodwill hat,
You live not a great but the life of a rat.
Categories:
polyglot, philosophy
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
When I drink wine,
I'm French, Italian, Spanish.
, German...I'm polyglot...!
Categories:
polyglot, allegory, allusion, analogy, appreciation,
Form:
Light Verse
I must suppose I'm fine. I laugh a lot.
My work is bearable. I have a home.
I guess I like this town I'm in. I'll not
annoy you with the glass that's half ... half what?
I spend a lot of time on Google Chrome,
meandering the streets of Naples, Rome,
Arezzo ... why is that? I've lost the plot?
Or am I just a closet polyglot
who missed his calling? Afternoons are light,
and Donizetti's lapping at my ears.
At times like this, my hobbled soul takes flight
and dreams of Italy. When I have fears
that all my sweetest songs have now been sung,
I turn to Italy. And I am young.
Categories:
polyglot, nostalgia,
Form:
Sonnet
Unaccustomed to the lingo
yet accustomed to the bling so
let it roll and rock and rot
regardless of the highbrow wot...
or china crystalled silver settings
designed Lenox gauche, just sayin' nothing
compared to what us fair groomed got
thank Daddy for the polyglot.
Of myth and spit and hum-drudgery
of how things never used to be
is time to wake up. Hope we do
'cause I'd like to live on, would you?
Categories:
polyglot, social,
Form:
Rhyme
Dancers
and health therapists,
meditators
and educators,
speak of an embodied
listening
and teachable "CORE."
We need,
on bad days,
and want,
on better days,
To exercise,
stretch,
fill and empty,
appreciate
and open
our empowering MindBody Core,
With healthy, resilient outcomes predicted
as a return on investment
for such deep enlightening listening
and learning
intention,
integrity
of compassionate purpose.
Back in the day,
religious
and warm spring breeze
front porch Sunday afternoon
philosophical,
spiritual
and natural lifeskills therapists,
polyglot poets
and brilliant essayists,
lovers
and naked co-passionists,
storytellers
and environmental storymakers
spoke
and sang
and danced
to restore our healthy
holistically wealthy
"Soul"
While my Core
seems to be Here
and Now about my autonomous body,
and our shared Soul
an advocate for active democratic process
ing co-passionately commun
icating bicameral
ly reiterative
reconnecting
re-ligioning minds,
For those who see
and sometimes hear
this mind-body
inside-outside
Janus-doublefaced, double-bound
leftbrain languaged Core curriculum distinction
without experiential rightbrain sensory
Soulfull/empty Zeroistic difference,
BodyCores may be useful to teach MindSouls
to think
and feel
interdependent CoreSoul
holistic
holonic
holy-spirited
animus-Mundi
EarthTribe soul-core Us,
A non-elite sacred we
restoratively experienced much differently
than OldSchool royal WE,
As "tu" would prefer to soulfully heal
relationships "vous" might choose to punish,
to exclude from high society's
deep delusional
and boxed-in bored
monoculturally self-disempowering
patriarchally unenlightened
EcoSystemic EarthMother Core
embryonic womb.
Personal ZeroSum risky secularized
monetized Cores,
like mortally autonomous bodies,
may also be political
and economic
NonZero reorganizing co-invested mindbodies
encircling compassionate HolySouls.
When we walk together
our Cores move in linear
or circling sympathy
And when we dance as one
our Souls feel
and know
Here as also Now
co-empathy.
Categories:
polyglot, health, peace, philosophy, religion,
Form:
Political Verse
No Polyglot Here
By: Tom Wright
9-7-2019-
I’m no shade of polyglot,
It’s only English for me.
Italian, French, or German;
Now which would it be?
Learning another language,
Wouldn’t be germane.
From an “Okie,” any one,
Might be met with disdain.
Would my native tongue,
Then languish on a shelf.
While in my new language,
I just talked to myself?
Categories:
polyglot, funny, humorous,
Form:
Lyric