A language to have fun with,
Or if not, to play pun with:
In love, the two can cleave
Or else into two cleave,
If you like you can flame,
If not you can inflame;
These pairs mean all the same,
Anarchy be her name;
Have fun with it or none with.
________________________
Limerick | 24.12.2025 | anarchy, language, fun, pun, none
Note: English seems a language of articulated anarchy. If there are linguistic laws they are applied but in breaking them. You don’t spell as pronounced, nor pronounce as is spelled. Same words having many meanings, though it is so in Sanskrit as well. But then it has a common heritage which is Indo European. To cleave is to like, to love, to get attached to. It also means: to cut in half, the very opposite. Again, flame or inflame, it means the same. This verbal wackiness makes it an ideal playground for impish double entendre with puns galore.
It’s 2022, we’re in the final battle for the soul of the world.
There is no Indo-European root for soul,
the Greek and Germanic roots mean quick-moving, fleeting, mercurial.
I’d add evanescent, impermanent, ephemeral
disappearing, diminishing, dwindling
tenuous, brief, short-lived.
Whatever forever—that’s where we’ll be after WWIII.
World, home, think, breathe: man,
woman the vital force in man, the Anthropocene, men together
violence, virtue, virility. Also, werewolf.
War: to confuse, mix up, make worse.
The old are paying close attention but my sons ignore the thunder,
plate tectonics, gamma ray bursters and mortars on the Eurasian front.
Peace out—the end, limit, boundary, never to have been. So long,
sayonara, shalom, salaam. Take into eternity my hail and farewell.
(Written through the eyes of a 6th century B. C. era Scythian warrior poet)
wind o wind o wind!
wind o wind whichs cleaves
the steppe in dire stagnation
eternal is the ride,
endless, the expanse
forever is the arrow
and the still air it slices
has no end to it either
below the ever-great sun-disc
we tremble
like hearts in lover-chests
half human, half stallion
hoof and hand, neigh and bow
into everlasting cold
echoing
aryan ancestry
from back centuries or even millenia
into ever-hinterlands
where slint-eyeds
and blue-eyeds
and brown-eyeds live
the steppe-nation spreads
like eagles soar
or how wolves migrate
Now I wake me up from bed,
eyelids heavy and a drum
in my head...
~Long night. Where am I now?
~Dreamy light... I'm awake
somehow?
55... Mom died.
From today...
155... am I alive?
~Yes, you are....
"This Way..."
Now I wake me up from sleep,
past and present lights of speed,
catching up... my mind is deep.
Rhyming patterns in the air.
I see them. They see me hear.
~155... drive me.
~Light to sea...
Buddha sat under a tree...
His birthday 9, in the month of May.
"This Way..."
Mason left a message dear,
Was "On the One" so we can hear,
George ol' boy... what do you say?
From the Buddha's birth, Count.
1 5 5 6 days.
~Where are the twins~
CC XX... this way...
Hear the music when it plays...
You're A Wake to count the days.
... okay then. A WakE it is...
The English word "wake" originated from the ancient Indo-European root
"wog" or "weg," meaning "to be active." This evolved into several
meanings, including "growth" ("vegetable"), "to become or stay alert,"....
and "watching or guarding"
wiki.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.