Isn’t English a Funy Language, Part 2

Are there a lot of virgins in the Virgin Islands?
Are you telling the truth if you lie in bed?
Can a stupid person be a smart-ass?
Can fat people go skinny-dipping?
Crime does not pay. Does that mean my job is a crime?
Could crop circles be the work of a cereal killer?
Did Noah keep his bees in archives?
Do blind dogs have seeing-eye humans?
Do hummingbirds hum because they don’t know the words?
Do hungry crows have ravenous appetites?
Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
Do mass murderers kill in church?
Do people in Australia call the rest of the world “up over”?
Do pilots take crash courses?
Do stars clean themselves with meteor showers?
Do vampires get AIDS?
How can someone “draw a blank”?
If corn can’t hear, why does it have an ear?
If corn oil is made from corn, what is baby oil made from?
Is it ok to use AM radio in the afternoon?
Now that Microsoft is big, should it be called Macrosoft?
Crazy English!

            -credit to the crazy, witty mind whose owner I do not know.

Isn’t English a Funny Language?

There is no egg in eggplant or ham in hamburger.
Neither is there apple nor pine in pineapple.
Is the plural of choose, cheese?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
In what language do people recite in a play and play in a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have a nose that runs and feet that smell?
Park in driveways and drive in parkways?
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor a pig.
Why is it that if writers write, fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce,
and hammers don’t ham?
If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth, beeth?
One goose, two geese. So, one moose, two meese?
How can the weather be as hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?
When a house burns up, it burns down.
When you fill in a form, you fill it out and an alarm clock goes off by going on.
Why, when I wind up my watch, I start it but when I wind up an essay, I finish it?
English muffins were not invented in England nor French fries in France.
How can “slim chance” and “fat chance” be the same, while “wise man” and wise guy” opposites??

No wonder I failed English!

   -credit to the crazy, witty mind whose owner I do not know.

Wandering Jew

I wish to love so let me,
I wish to live so let me breathe.
Allow me to seek the things I believe,
Discover the road I need to travel,
This world’s a mystery yet to be unraveled.

 Follow me then if you dare,
As I grope in the corridors of my anxieties,
In the place where
My dreams and uncertainties kiss.
In the voice of my laughter,
Hear the resounding echo of my fear
Try to halt my perpetual masquerade,
And behold that I
Am nothing more than a face that’s scared.

Triggering Her Who May Not Exist

Did you fall asleep, Muse?
The day I let my pen,
Run out of ink.
The day I watched carelessly,
As the last loose leaf of paper,
Drifted into the grasp of empty air.
The day I and my lifeless fingers,
Stopped breathing, bleeding words.

Are you still asleep, Muse?
What will it take to rouse you.
Perhaps you are dead, Muse?
And it was suicide,
The day I killed you.
Your silence worries me.
For now I am quite
Certain of the doubt,
If you are, Muse
An illusion or reality.

Happy Place

There is therefore, no more turning back. I have entered my second semester of a post-grad degree in Literature. I love this semester for the simple reason of being able to say “In my Poetry class…” and “In my Creative Writing class…”. Oh, joy. That is not to say of course that I won’t make a fool out of myself. I am not entirely sure if my Muse, if she does exist, has started paying attention to my attempts to win her back. It’s just that I feel a little more confident now. Looking at the prospectus, I can fairly say that the subjects I have this semester are my favorite among them all. Also, after the shock of seeing the word “research” everywhere I looked last semester, I’m now more prepared, and less clueless, for another onslaught. The tension of introducing myself, like fish out of the water, as an accounting graduate, to a roomful of English majors, has definitely lessened. I have quit emphasizing that I work in the publishing (fine, self-publishing – but still) industry just to establish some vague connection. The revelation that several people in class are call center agents has provided great comfort. I’m uncommon but not alone. That’s very good. Also, I have unconsciously used the word “intertextuality” once in casual conversation. I believe it’s an indication that the words of my esteemed professors are not completely put to waste upon reaching my ears. That, or an indication that I’m still in a state of delusion. I prefer the former, thank you very much. There is hope yet, perhaps. I could be wrong. But willing to take chances here. Don’t wake me up just yet. Who knows, this could be my reality.