Chris
You know I was singer and we live stress and meter every second of our lives. We live it in many languages. To me the approach of scholarly poets is a little desiccated and inartistic. The only merit in any of it is the living word and phrase.
This was written tongue in cheek a while ago for a fun contest.
Janet
Wail in Lost Muddle Earth Dialect
I waked up an’ t’ world were al smashed’n broken
Sea wus high an’ fushes ariz a-spewin’
Men gone mad wus kullin’ n’slashin, pratin’
Of the end comin’
Skoy wus fulled with fushes an’ birds gone sully
Jesters casting rods in the bilin’ ocean
Headless fush-men stumblin’ al blind’n clumsy
Narry a wumin
Cold and seethin’ ocean coughs oop ald monsters
Satan sends his armies of fushy taunters
Nowt to do but die before the torment
Blackens the vullage
Granny Sorgum warned us that bad wud follow
When we foired the vullage across the watter
She wus bornt and al the folks made t’ watch it
God uv our fathers
World has turned against us an’ we wull perish
We hev sunned’n now we will pay the divil
Lothar howls in kennel beside his chulder
All’v them taken
Priest is gone and nabody kens the prayin’
Feard’n bloind we turn al our een t’heav’n
Intercede for us pore fushermen someone
God uv our fathers
[This message has been edited by Janet Kenny (edited July 06, 2004).]
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