Ode to Language

January 2007

When in the course of human events it's time to write a verse
I'd love to be a Milton or a Shakespeare, but I'm worse.
I'd love to think of mighty words like "fourscore and twenty years!"
Or "Friends, Romans, Countrymen, please lend me your ears."
Though Juliet mused, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Speaking in iambic pentameter is really quite a feat.
So common speech is fine for occasions big and little.
We shouldn't have to worry about every jot and tittle.
But Lord, what fools these mortals be who defile their mother tongue,
Whom, between you and me, ought to be took out and hung.
The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things,
Including all the slings and arrows that such defilement brings.
So listen, my children and you shall hear of acronyms for words,
Like URL and BPS used by computer nerds.
Legal lingo like "recuse" is heard in courts and foyers.
The first thing we should do is let's kill all the lawyers.
I also think a thing of beauty is a joy forever.
"Delta Center" is okay, "EnergySolutions Arena" never.
We hold this truth to be self-evident that spin is not admired.
"You're doing a heckuva job, Brownie" just means that you're being fired.
A cakewalk, liberators, WMD they said,
And fools rushed in where angels feared to tread.
Now is the winter of our discontent with our uniter, not divider.
But we'll stay the course, we cannot cut and run from our decider.
As Dubya's speech gets curiouser and curiouser
All English lovers get furiouser and furiouser.
Those who misuse language make these times that try men's souls
And Santa Claus, on Christmas Eve, should fill their socks with coals.
But now that winter's come, can spring be far behind?
Yeah, it can if you're not charitable to me and kind.
I know this poem's told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
But I've been very busy and had to write it in a hurry.
I could've written it and put it on the shelf,
But I know the only thing I have to fear is fear itself.
Some enchanted evening I would like to write some words
That sing before a king like twenty-four blackbirds.
I may have erred to write this literate poem of mine
But remember to err is human, to forgive is most divine.
And so with malice toward none; with charity for all,
Please accept this Christmas poem without a loud catcall.
Please don't gnash your teeth and think me full of vice.
See not the mote that's in my eye but a pearl of great price.
Thou canst not be false to me if to thine own self you are true.
And I in turn the best of all possible worlds wish for you.
So when the party's over go gently into that sweet night,
To your warm and comfy homes beneath the stars and bright moonlight.
I hate to see the party end, parting's such sweet sorrow,
But here's to tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Since brevity is the soul of wit I'll say if I might,
Merry Christmas to you all, and to you all, good night.