Boondocks is a seeming compound word that can trip you up. If it were then you could piece together its meaning. Boon is something beneficial or a favor, and docks a word for the structure to which you can secure your ship in port or device to link your PC with peripherals in the office.
The problem is obvious. What do these two definitions have to do with each other? Is a boondock some preferential mooring given only to some and not others?
Oh, and dock singular can also be a verb meaning to tie up or unload your ship. Oh, sure, that works well. Your benefit or favor gets tied to a wharf or unloaded from a boat. Even better is the definition of “cut off” as to remove an animal’s tail. Pair that with “boon.” Some favor, huh?
But again, it turns out the word is not native to English. It came from the Filipino native language Tagalog. English-speaking forces occupying the Philippines before WWI struggled to navigate the interior which was mostly mountainous. The locals referred to the area as bundok meaning mountain.
These Americans, being English speakers, soon changed the word to “boondocks” referring to the mostly untamed wilderness between the city-populated lowland and the area which lay behind up into the mountains.
The same nation’s returning soldiers in WW2 even coined another word, “boondockers” for the sturdy boots required to survive the rough terrain. Could the shoes called “dockers” be related?
“Boonies” is another variation of this boondocks. It is not intended as a compliment but is used in the derogatory way as “the sticks” or “yokel town”—all referring to a rustic, mostly undeveloped area.
Really, if you are not a native speaker, or even if you are, when you first come across the word boondocks, what are you to think? Even English-speaking natives tripping over such words find themselves momentarily lost. Is it any wonder people find English a difficult language?
However, I love the way English willingly adopts words from other languages and cultures. I think it makes learning English a rather marvelous adventure where even non-native speakers may suddenly find a familiar word from their own language in regular use by English-speaking natives.
#EnglishLanguage #ESL
THE PERENNIAL “ALSO RAN”
The honored word for this month comes to English from Greek, as do many English words. And it, like another Greek origin word—politics—immediately separates people into three pools of opinion: For, Against and those who wobble about in vagueness as Undecided.
In a popularity contest, this word would barely qualify for the ballot, and like many fringe politicians will never win but will always wear the label of “also ran” regardless of the merit.
The featured word also shares a lot in common with a Latin-based word, vegetables. A mention of any of the three (politics, vegetable or the starring word), will cause many in the audience to cringe, groan, head for the nearest exit, make a joke or deriding comment.
A few, however, will welcome the word. These few likely found the word on their own when they had need of it, even if their encounters in school soured their initial view. Makes me wonder if this word can be classified as that “acquired taste” people so often encourage in us to broaden our options.
Enough mystery. The minute I reveal the word, you will immediately know your political view. This month is National Poetry Month. Oh, I heard you groaning out there. But some of you are smiling, I hope. If you have been following this site, you are sure to be a campaigner for poetry, if only in secret. That’s an idea to pursue, perhaps—the closet poet. I will leave you with that thought.
#EnglishLanguage #Poetry #PoetryCommentary
Author’s Notes
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
The poem “BREAD FROM THE HEART” echoes the author’s opinion that a poet is more than a skilled writer. Margaret believed that a sense of the poetic is not something that can be learned. It must be innate.
KALEIDOSCOPE—a series by Kathleen Roxby
In some nations, poets are national heroes, in others they occupy a much lower rank. In “THE PERENNIAL ALSO RAN,” the author describes the second.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“IN THE SILENCE” was the author’s solution to writer’s block. Someone told her, “If you feel you can’t write, write about that.” This poem first appeared in the author’s chapbook, Chameleon Woman, published in 2000.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission:
Splinters for April 2021
There was an old man with a beard
Who said, “It is just as I feared.
Two owls and a hen
A lark and a wren
Have all built a nest in my beard.
The Touch of Yellow
Music from an unseen source
Catches you
By the hand
Twirls you into a spin
Whisks you
Across pavement and grass–
Yellow
The gray fog divides
Before you
Revealing an unfamiliar
World which beckons
Irresistibly…
You fall
Into the welcome of home–
Yellow
#ColorandYellow #PoetryandColor
YEARNING (From the Snow Forest)
Bright flame butterfly dream
With burning wings,
Warm me.
#ShortPoem #Yearning
BOONDOCKS
Boondocks is a seeming compound word that can trip you up. If it were then you could piece together its meaning. Boon is something beneficial or a favor, and docks a word for the structure to which you can secure your ship in port or device to link your PC with peripherals in the office.
The problem is obvious. What do these two definitions have to do with each other? Is a boondock some preferential mooring given only to some and not others?
Oh, and dock singular can also be a verb meaning to tie up or unload your ship. Oh, sure, that works well. Your benefit or favor gets tied to a wharf or unloaded from a boat. Even better is the definition of “cut off” as to remove an animal’s tail. Pair that with “boon.” Some favor, huh?
But again, it turns out the word is not native to English. It came from the Filipino native language Tagalog. English-speaking forces occupying the Philippines before WWI struggled to navigate the interior which was mostly mountainous. The locals referred to the area as bundok meaning mountain.
These Americans, being English speakers, soon changed the word to “boondocks” referring to the mostly untamed wilderness between the city-populated lowland and the area which lay behind up into the mountains.
The same nation’s returning soldiers in WW2 even coined another word, “boondockers” for the sturdy boots required to survive the rough terrain. Could the shoes called “dockers” be related?
“Boonies” is another variation of this boondocks. It is not intended as a compliment but is used in the derogatory way as “the sticks” or “yokel town”—all referring to a rustic, mostly undeveloped area.
Really, if you are not a native speaker, or even if you are, when you first come across the word boondocks, what are you to think? Even English-speaking natives tripping over such words find themselves momentarily lost. Is it any wonder people find English a difficult language?
However, I love the way English willingly adopts words from other languages and cultures. I think it makes learning English a rather marvelous adventure where even non-native speakers may suddenly find a familiar word from their own language in regular use by English-speaking natives.
#EnglishLanguage #ESL
Author’s Notes
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“YEARNING (From the Snow Forest)” was published 1974 in Bitterroot, An International Poetry Quarterly, and again in 1975 in The Pen Women.
KALEIDOSCOPE—a series by Kathleen Roxby
In ‘BOONDOCKS”, the author explores another “borrowed” word of the English language. This word fascinated the author as a child when the word “boon” was as yet unknown to her. She felt, then, that the word sounded like baby talk.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“THE TOUCH OF YELLOW” is another poem from the author’s series entitled “A Singular Prism.” For the author, yellow is the color of joy which is appropriate for the first day of the first month in Spring.
SPLINTERS FOR MARCH 2021
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission: