The Verb And The Full-Stop

One of the conundrums I face as an Australian writer living in the United States is spelling and word choice. More than half this blogs regular hits come from the US and I wouldn't want them to think I can't spell colorful or favorite, but that's not how I spell it. I spell them with a U after the O - colourful and favourite. These words have now received squiggly red lines under them by my auto-spellchecker to indicate that I'm not spelling them right. I'm choosing to stay true to my heritage but I think you see my issue. No-one can respect a writer who they think can't spell.

This poem contains a word choice issue, namely the word "full-stop", which doesn't exist in the US. They say "period". So they may not understand what I'm talking about in this poem. I come across these things a reasonable amount. I've also spoken to friends like Tim Minchin who had to change a lot of lyrics in songs for the US audience otherwise they won't understand what's going on. That can be tough when the whole feel and vibe of a rhyme may revolve around that word.

There are other words. Maybe I should not mention them and see if you notice.

I guess I could start the poem with... "It's control, it must said." I heard the verb tell period...

So maybe these issues can be negotiated. Have a read and see what you think

I'd also like to add here that this slightly weird poetry does come to me from time to time, as it did for the poem "Two Dozen Duck Eggs", with elusive analogies and strange images. I hope you enjoy it and see the message behind the weirdness.


The Verb And The Full-Stop



"It's control, is it not?" Says the verb to the full-stop

as he skips and hops along singing a merry little song.

"Maybe it is, but so what?"

The full stop replies with an indignant cry. 

"It's more about not getting lost in lawless chaos.
You know, lots of these nouns need to be told what to be and the way 

they should spell or there'll be hell to pay."

The verb turns around and makes a giggling sound,

Amused by the full stop's stiff grooveless moves and attitudes,

Then continues to whistle his groovy tune.

"If the likes of you verbs decided how things were to be
we'd see letters roaming free all over the page and we'd be in an age of anarchy."

The verb curbs his groovy tune, smooths his unruly hair and says,

"You don't think the letters would simply know what to do
without those like you directing their heads, as if what's right is so out of sight.
Why choose shoes lined with lead when if we each take flight
on our distinctive wings we would be quite able to find what's right."

The full stop pulls up his belt a little higher
'til he looks like a sack around a bear stuck in a spare truck tyre.

"But please tell me you see that even with all these decrees only traces of order exist in many places.
So we'd be set back ten more paces, wouldn't you say, if we took all rules and regulations away.
Good would be gone in not more than a day."

The verb was quite unperturbed by these words,
for he knew with certainty there was much the full stop would never see,
so lost in his clean cut reality, as boss of how things should be. 

So with a slow certain pace he walks up to his enemy,
takes a deep breath and with his smile stretched looks the full-stop in the face.

"We'll never agree my rotund friend,
and whether wonders will await in the enigmatic end
or won't is beside the point - so don't get your rosie-red nose out of joint.
Just know that we all should feel free
to express ourselves in the way that we feel best represents what we believe.
For what's right is not what one bright mind thinks
but not strapping on tight blinkers to shut out anyone who doesn't agree
on everything that we have to say, as if to question the consensus may
destroy all good that should lead the way.
What's right is that we speak our minds without fear of fines if we go outside the lines.
For respect drives the love in all of our lives and without love we're lost in the costs constant rise.
So let's compromise."

From there the conversation's tensions decline
while they talk of all they've each loved and lost in their time,
and soon see that though a verb and full-stop can never agree there's no need,
as each one has their own life to lead.