Treasure Island

Gamaliel Scipio

(Grenada WI)


Still bent on
calling it English

Just look at what
We have done with it

The same language
of which, so many
are now trying

To call their own

One such, that we
have done

Is to create new

While knowing that
there is nothing new

Under the English

We keep demonizing
that language,

With the addition
of mysteries

Making it, so much
more difficult,
to understand

A far cry from the
legendary language

That it truly is

Though born out of

It boasts legendary

A master of history

Turned into something

Many are able to twist
and turn

Even while they see

As now being a painful
language to learn

With words filled with

Presently, for one to
speak English

he or she is expected,
to end up with tongues
that burn.

Submitted: Monday, March 24, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 24, 2014

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Topic(s): language

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Recently I entered this forum, where I was bombarded with giant words and I began looking up the meaning of these words, only to find out that they were the epidermis of something much smaller and quite simple.

Comments about this poem (English by Gamaliel Scipio )

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  • Susan Lacovara (5/3/2014 10:56:00 AM)

    We do take the poetic liberty to craft what we feel are more descriptive words....When often the simple meaning would be more enjoyed if all could grasp them easily....but then again, there are so many ways to spill your soul. I love to discover new words for old feelings. PEACE (Report) Reply

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