WARNING: the fourth paragraph is a bit graphic and some viewers may want to skip down the page.
Uncloying - what the frig does that mean? It's not a proper word. I was struggling with a poem on a blog and came a cross it.This is one of the things that makes me regurgitate poems and spit them out instead of swallowing anew.
Poets like to make up words but often get carried away with it. A strong image isn't made stronger with a made up word. Why make up words - when there is a gap or for the enjoyment. I have to say I am as guilty as the targets who I spit these darts.
I wanted to leave in what I had written to show how diametrically opposite I can think. I have completely changed my mind tonight about both the above things.
First of all, uncloying is a great word. At least it sounds like a great word. In the phrase 'uncloying my senses' it gives a really strong image of a physical action. If I am uncloying then my senses must have previously been cloyed. My senses obviously refers to my eyes, ears, mouth and nose. To uncloy them all must mean to extract something. So here we have the image of me pulling at stuff that has being seeping out of all the pores and holes. All I can think of is a mixture of nasal slime and eye sleep; my hand physically pulling at the goo as it becomes 'uncloyed' from my face.
Secondly I love made up words. I live for made up words -Jabberwocky and the poetry collection called Oh Fabjous Day are some of my favourites.
And to demonstrate that I want to share another poem of mine with you:
This makes me giggle every time I read it.
Uncloying - what the frig does that mean? It's not a proper word. I was struggling with a poem on a blog and came a cross it.
I wanted to leave in what I had written to show how diametrically opposite I can think. I have completely changed my mind tonight about both the above things.
First of all, uncloying is a great word. At least it sounds like a great word. In the phrase 'uncloying my senses' it gives a really strong image of a physical action. If I am uncloying then my senses must have previously been cloyed. My senses obviously refers to my eyes, ears, mouth and nose. To uncloy them all must mean to extract something. So here we have the image of me pulling at stuff that has being seeping out of all the pores and holes. All I can think of is a mixture of nasal slime and eye sleep; my hand physically pulling at the goo as it becomes 'uncloyed' from my face.
Secondly I love made up words. I live for made up words -Jabberwocky and the poetry collection called Oh Fabjous Day are some of my favourites.
And to demonstrate that I want to share another poem of mine with you:
The boy who brings nonsense words to school
I am Ronald and I truly rule.
Why - because I bring nonsense words to school.
I answer “Yuzai!” to the register
And shout “nweep” when I get out of my chair.
“Quilly boo,” for any History answer
Makes Mr Johnson pull out all his hair.
I say that 2x2 is fourpoop
And 3x2 is brix.
Then London is in Frag-u-stuff
And Australia – Outertrix
At lunch when I asked for Squidgytoot
Miss Mulltree gave a funny look
So then I just said beep beep boop
Miss Mulltree said she’s ‘just the cook.’
After dinner I read Jabberwocky
And Mr Johnson gave me lots of praise
Said ‘was the first lesson I’d done properly
In days and days and days.’
I nodded muttering “pwezishaa,”
And went to tidy the library books.
Which I did with Alicia quietly.
Only silence really sucks.
So I started shouting “Jubjeree,”
And danced around the room.
But Mr Johnson called the headteacher,
Who said I’d be going home very soon.
I whistled and cried “da da daa,”
But it was the last thing that I said.
As mum came and brought the doctor
And they took me home to bed.This makes me giggle every time I read it.
