This is a true, but amusing tale,
Hope your laughter does not fail,
'Tis a saga of a cockatoo,
Of life, he held a jaundiced view,
At the going down of the sun,
Cocky embellished his own fun,
And at the rising of each dawn,
Cocky's catharsis our ears did adorn,
The parrot kept talking, none listened to he,
Cocky had such a vivid vocabulary,
All starting with "F...ing C...'s"!
We heard his morning matins, you see,
His vespers were hard to believe,
'Twas sociolinguistic acquisition, prithee,
His jaded look at society,
Swearing is cathartic, but so lazy,
Yes, old cocky had such a vocabulary!
Funky Funkus For Fortunate Few
Real artists won't do alliteration
Modernist are we the folks
Seeking adoration
Post structuralism
Is the old order
Annihilated are the Sonnets
And poetic formations.
Conversing takes another dimension
Philosophising, Looping, interlinking
Elastic boundaries. Self-analysing.
Sociolinguistic inventions
Obeying but rejecting universal conventions.
Paradoxes reign in the world of poetic art
The art. The art. Why art thou so elusive?