notesfromthewaitingroom

I fell in love with my own language

When I was in my mid-thirties

You know how it is

First I noticed it

Then I felt drawn to it

Lastly I fell for it

Hook, line and sinker.

Those old tribesmen

Round their fires at night

Little dreamt that their

Mode of communication

Would journey to the stars

English is on a roll

Sibilant and sinuous

Compressed, economic

Fed by the dual rivers of

Romance and Germanic

Lyrical fused with bluntness

Softness with violence

Races prevail

Hegemony of

Ubiquitous language

Probes the four quarters

Of the spinning world

Whispering susurrus

Subtle persuasion

And as a bonus

It’s the idiom of rock and roll

Yes, English really rocks

PEACE, LOVE and ROCK & ROLL

Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact.

Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.

The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius