Tag Archives: poem

plummet

A plummet, as you may know, is a little bit of lead (hence the name: from plumb, from Latin plumbum ‘lead’, plus diminutive –et) used to weight a line for sounding depths or determining vertical. It is also a word for a stick of lead for writing with. We have had the noun since the 1300s. The verb plummet first (in the early 1600s) meant to use a plummet to sound the depth of water; more recently (from the mid-1800s) it has meant to fall precipitously – like a plummet being dropped, I guess. It has nothing to do with plums… except when they fall from the tree, of course.

Here is a poem. I hope it goes down well. Continue reading

cenesthesia

Cenesthesia is, according to Merriam-Webster, “the general feeling of inhabiting one’s body that arises from multiple stimuli from various bodily organs.” It is also spelled coenesthesia, reflecting its roots in Greek κοινός koinos (Latinized as coen–) ‘common’ and αἴσθησις aisthesis (Latinized as aesthesis) ‘sensation, feeling, perception’. But coenesthesia tempts a person to say it as “co-enesthesia,” when in fact it is to be said as “seen-esthesia” – very similar to synaesthesia, which, however, it is not (that’s cross-modal perception, as when a person has a tactile or visual sensation in response to a sound). There’s no point in trying to make it closer to the Greek or Latin pronunciation; it was assembled from the classic plastic bricks in the mid-1800s.

I think a poem is appropriate. Here. Continue reading

chirapsia

Another poem for you. Today’s word is chirapsia, which means ‘manual friction’ or ‘massage’; it comes from Greek χειραψία, which could mean ‘gentle friction’ or ‘hand-to-hand combat’ (!), from χείρ kheir ‘hand’ and ἅπτω hapto ‘I touch’. Continue reading

ranticle

The other day, while playing Scrabble, I saw that I could play the word RANTICLE… if only it were a word. Well, I want it to be a word. And obviously it’s a canticle that’s a rant, or a rant that’s a canticle. Or maybe it’s just a little rant. Whatever. Here is a ranticle for you! (Click on the audio above to hear me sing it.)

Here’s to the people you see every day
Who stop on the sidewalk, ignoring the fray,
In ones, twos, and sixes, and get in the way:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the chuckers of trash on the street,
Of wrappers and cigarettes under your feet,
Who think it’s for others to keep the world neat:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the grammar creeps stuck on correct
Who pounce on each error they chance to detect
But treat fellow humans with zero respect:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the journalists, eager for story,
Who haunt the bereaved any time it turns gory,
And zoom in on tears of the upset and sorry:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the drivers, lead foot on the gas,
Who hang on your bumper, so eager to pass
That if you slowed down they’d ram right up your… tailpipe:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the whiners who always protest
When some inequality might be redressed
And by “common sense” mean they get to be best:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

Here’s to the thoughtless, whatever their station,
In things of the neighbourhood and of the nation,
Who can’t spare two seconds for consideration:
Watch what you do! What’s wrong with you!

imminent, immanent

You really want to listen to this one:

Here’s a manic mnemonic for imminent versus immanent: Continue reading

threnody

Today, a poem on threnody, which is a song of mourning, from Greek θρηνῳδία.

A wail, a wave, a melody,
a singing throng, a mourning song,
a lilt of loss, a threnody,

enthralling, throttling, memory
relief and peace of grief release,
a pyre of choir, a threnody,

the seamstress of humanity
to rip the skin and stitch within,
a thread, a threat, a threnody.

tenebrity

I just can’t quit writing poems. I’ll get back to regular word tastings, don’t you worry, but first, here’s a sonnet. Continue reading

rest

This year, I’m writing poetry for every word tasting in November. I’m calling it Povember. Today, to finish the month, a rondeau. I have enjoyed doing my word tastings as poetry for a month. I will probably keep doing so from time to time. Continue reading

Florida

This year, I’m writing poetry for every word tasting in November. I’m calling it Povember. Today, a poem about the state I’m in: Florida for a week, and happiness at all the delicious words people have tweeted in response to a request. Continue reading

orange

This year, I’m writing poetry for every word tasting in November. I’m calling it Povember. Today, sapphic verse. Continue reading