Terminology Poems | Examples

In Praise of the Euphemism

Of that body part men activate
to urinate or procreate –
as the case or need may be –
it’s clinical terminology
is still considered by many
as off limits in polite society
whereas its vulgar substitutes
still more than ever constitute 
the norm, though by the puritanical
are condemned as inexcusable.
And, therefore, to circumvent
their use and avoid embarrassment
they’ve been discreetly sanitized
and inoffensively euphemized
or camouflaged, whichever term
will spare you to least squirm –
like peepee, whatchamacallit,
skin faucet, little man, or whatsit.
Whereas using even the proper
or vulgar words will cause a shudder
leading to outbreaks of friction
by those who abhor such diction.
Even a French menu word like “coq”
(rooster, as in “coq au vin”) will shock,
and unless it’s correctly vocalized,
please leave that one unanglicized!

WORDS OF LOVE

An etymologist…(from an article I happened to see)
is a person who studies words…their origin and their history.

This particular article…(I am happy relate)
mentioned in the English language there are more words that describe love
than there are that describe hate.

The article did acknowledged that throughout our language’s history
both love and hate have had a wide range of terminology.

But here’s something to keep in mind…
(something this article was positive of…)
in our language there are more subtleties, more complexities…
and more nuances to love.

Because it has more subtleties, more complexities and more nuances…
(if you’ve listened I’m sure you’ve heard)
love can be expressed with a greater variety of words.

And it’s comforting to know…(this news I am also happy to relate)
love has been in our vocabulary for a much longer time…than hate.

As I was reading this article….this thought occurred to me…
Something it doesn’t take an etymologist to see:

To begin to make our world a happier more joyous place…
one everyone can adore
we should be using words of hate a little less…
and words of love…a whole lot more.

why we don't see, getting yesterday

Inordinate 
Construction terminology limits interaction and 
Obstinate theory considered heating 
Cursory exam investigates
Finance
While article confides in history 
Another letters still

Placement of interaction causes excess time?

Employees are not in a large building 
Only resolved in exposure to smaller liens

Stocks and Bonds are Complexity

The Poetic Arts

Terminology:

Crystal booths in a nocturnal snow.
significant downpours of shedding stars.

This said, feel free to scatter, scrabble or mash.
Words are fungible,
many still believe that poetics
do indeed belong to the fungi family,
though some have been classified
as many-limbed Triffids
of the squishy kind.

Now throw moondust at the reader's eyes:

Obscurity is essential, however, first create a window
that opens to reflect the thrower.
Rain down upon the moondust until mud takes shape.
There are no words for this process,
so, make some up.

Flourish:

Without a final flourish the poet is left with a turgid puddle
avoid turgidity at all costs, especially puddles.
Sprays of celebratory tinsel
or globs of gore are always effective.
Reaching for the stars with a palsied hand
will jerk tears out of a slab of concrete
eventually.

Swiftly leave the space you are now occupying,
other's will be impatiently waiting to craft their next masterpiece.

Silent

Silent One cool art
International poet
Lasting very tall
Elegant writes and poems
Northerly very bright star

Original kind
Nimble night so shining star
Enjoyable man


Acrostic Tanka & Senryu, in Andrea Dietrich terminology.

video game terminology

I want to kill my classmates she told me.
You don’t mean that, I said.
She shakes her head up and down. I would love it if they were slaughtered.
I am surprised, she is an innocent looking six-year-old.

You probably are just upset today with someone I suggested.
I am upset with them all, she said. I want them butchered.
Her vocabulary astounds me; she is not your usual first grader.
Let’s just make friends with them, I suggest. Let’s slay them, she replies.

I discover later that she plays violent video games nights and weekends.
Such violence she has heard in these games. Games for much older people.
I am not sure I am old enough to play these games, and I am seventy-one.

The Bee Fields of Yesteryear

Casting my mind back many a year
To childhood days spent catching bees
Those long gone memories do bring a tear
Playing with friends in the summer breeze

A simple jam jar, air holes pierced in the lid
Laden with clover and blades of green grass
To catch a bumblebee, shear delight for a kid
Observing him carefully through the transparent glass

Like little scientists we named differing species
Terminology I can still recall to this day
What a pleasure it is to remember these
Adventure along the hills was our kind of play

It saddens me today to see young minds so numbed
Lush fields of green devoured and disappeared
To technology, children have now succumbed
Our beautiful world has been commandeered

Whilst walking upon a small meadow of green
I spotted a young boy with a glass jar in his hand
My eyes were aghast at what I’d just seen
It seems there’s still hope upon the land

I watched from afar as he examined his catch closely
Suddenly releasing him and away he did fly
With a loving smile, the boy waved him off joyfully
As I meandered off into the distance, wiping a tear from my eye

Filtered Words

Stuck in a world of filtered words, 
groomed to embrace this terminology;
Symbols and acronyms; 
Where does that leave a wild wordsmith ?
Gazing at shallow eroded shores 
under stars no one can really see 
longing for the deepest of waters; 

Bottom of the surface touch,
always it seems just out of reach 

Black and white butterfly 
in a world of colorful lines;
Filtered words aren’t enough when 
I see the write within the silence,
surrounded by so many hollow expressions;
Reality dissolves when the thoughts 
blur into something easy to swallow;

Bottom of the surface touch, 
always it seems just out of reach.

Blue Flag Aloft

The ship in the harbor is sailing
with a blue flag aloft;
returned from a season of trading,
its crew is in sorrow for the captain has crossed
from this life into the great unveiling
at God's golden shore.


Note: If you are sad and describe yourself as "feeling blue," you are using a phrase coined from a custom among many old deepwater sailing ships. If the ship lost the captain or any of the officers during its voyage, she would fly blue flags and have a blue band painted along her entire hull when returning to home port. (Origins of Naval Terminology)


For: Blue Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose

Table of the Scribed

Table of The Scribed 

Only of the true muse in mind,
Being a he or she? 
Can scribe of the darknesses they feel, 
Being it told, indeed. 

Being this breed of spirits, 
Sitting at the Abysses table, take heed!

For that's the table of the;
Devils and Gods, 
We are the tellers; 
For we are the scribes. 

Take up thy quill; 
Quick hurry, 
Put it in your hand? 

Write down the scribes of; 
Phraseology, terminology,
They're many forms in their styles!

Am I sure they will understand?

I am learning all the while;
Understand these words
Even the symbolic, 
Are they written too absurd?

Revised Edition; September 06, 2021, 4:33 PM (EST)

So Called Experts Critics and Coaches

Hard to fathom the logic of
the following

How in sporting terminology
even the great Tiger Woods
in his pomp and prime employed
the service of a swing coach 
with not a single major title to
his name

And Jose football's special one manager never even played professionally himself

As neither is any so called expert
critic in any of the field of art be 
that film , poetry , painting , sculpture
or photography

Because surely if in reality
they we're any good at all 
in there field of expertise 
they would be competing not
teaching or passing comment 

So given that Tiger Woods has
20+ plus majors and is considered
to be the greatest golfer to ever play
the game 

Then why on earth would he need 
to employ the service or be willing 
to listen to the opinion of a coach
without a single major title to his 
name

Likewise why should or would any credible artist or come to that fact member of the general public value
the critical opinion of someone or anyone 

With in essence no more clue than
you or i yet given a platform to 
indoctrinate other's

Sibling Rivalry

The child was getting tired of being teased
Words flowed from her brother's mouth unfiltered
Had he more vocabulary he'd spew. 
She didn't care on that morning if she pleased
She went to the icebox unbewildered
            milk threw

We all stood in shock, except her brother
Drenched to the degree of being drowned, whew!
But equal to his cruel out of kilter
words. He's thinking there's ways other to
            stir stew 


Here in the south sometimes we say of a person that they are stirrer of trouble and we used some different terminology(vocabulary) sometimes. 

I used icebox instead because refrigerator would not fit, so going back to my youth when some people still had an icebox. 

My understanding of this form is 11 lines. Ten syllables per line except for the 6th line and the 11th line which are suppose to be two one syllable words or a one two syllable word which both syllables are pronounced equally. Really don't understand stressed and unstressed. LOL

Rhyme scheme is : a,b,c,a,b,c   d,c,b,d,c

Circus Terminology

it is better
that i am
the man
instead
of you
being
the

bearded lady though 
it was exclaimed in 
one of Chaucer's
Canterbury tale's
pilgrimages

in which a certain
Miller tells albeit
a drunken tale
but he does
give fair

warning to the
weak of heart
the nobility of
drunkenness
and so winds

or breaks
wind it as if 
from his 
bottom
to find
that

her ****
was his
and then
asks was
that the 

beard
of a her
or a him

Ptsd

Its Mental health,
Your minds not well,
Not quite as it should be,
Is that your diagnosis or your terminology.
You send me out,
Then bring me back,
Without knowing what’s entailed,
Then look at me with sympathy and claim the systems       failed,
Who built the system,
Made the rules,
Who’s system lets us suffer,
“I wasn’t me”
“it’s not my fault “
I hear the words you mutter,
It wasn’t mine but here I am,
I need a path to follow,
I'm tired of being passed from pillar to post with condolences of sorrow.

Pc Poem

I recently wrote a poem, but I was afraid it might upset modern sensibilities.  So, to be safe, I sent it to the Feminist Union of Caring and Kindness, the Committee for Using Nuanced Terminology, and the Newark Politic Congress to remove all potentially offensive terms.  Enjoy…

---- ---- to --- ----- a
--- ------ stairs --- ---,
----- the --- chair ---- --.
Once --- ----- -- --- and

--- -- ------ -- -----ing,
--  - ---- ---------, but
--- -- through ---- -- -----;
----- in------, -- --- --!

--- --, ---- every--- --
-----: --, --, ----, ---.
---- on ----, ----- --- ---,
----- ---, ---- -- weed.

Ahhhh….it feels so good to express yourself!
No, wait, it doesn’t?  Expressing joy in expression might hurt the feelings of the creatively-impaired?  Oh, ----, sorry.

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