It seeps through like a fog

In sweeps of color

 

And swirls the room

 

My heart stirs

But only for a moment

 

Because then it is gone

Like the fog vanishing

 

Like myself

Like the fog

 

gone

 

#dream, #disappearing

Taking a slightly different direction than my other essays on the English language with this post. Back when I was a teenager, I learned that Japanese, like English, is stress dependent. This lesson came from a Japanese speaking actor performing the play Kataki at the community theater where I attended Drama lessons.

Everyone at the theater was pronouncing the play title as “ka-TAH-i” or “ka-TACK-i.” The Japanese actor informed us the proper pronunciation was “KAH-tah-ki.” But just yesterday, I learned Japanese is also pitch dependent like Chinese. In other words, the same written word (characters/script) when pronounced with not only stress, but pitch change, will have more than one definition.

I should have realized this before as I have long known that Chinese has this characteristic, and the two languages share a linguistic string. But what I found most interesting is that the author of the post explained there is a possible way to write a word to indicate the pitch variant, and therefore the true meaning intended. However, it is also possible that the word’s connotation will vary depending on how the word is used—something common to most languages.

Ignoring connotation for a moment, I have to say never have I been happier to know that English meanings change primarily due to where the stress is place on the word. Example from an earlier post*, CON-test is a competition, but con-TEST is the action of vying to win that CON-test.

However, English speakers manage to even make the simplicity of this complicated. Americans pronounced the word dedicated as DED-i-ca-ted, while our English cousins will say ded-i-CA-ted (long A). If the speaker is from India, the word might or might not mimic the English pronunciation. And so it goes, around the globe. Just imagine what would happen if English, like Japanese or Chinese, were also pitch dependent. Horrors!

*For the full text of the February 27, 2023 post, see:

 

#EnglishLanguage

 

 

GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby

“REMEMBERING A DREAM” was found among the writer’s papers. It was likely written about the same time as “The Awakening,” see this site July 26.

KALEIDOSCOPE—a series by Kathleen Roxby

“ENGLISH VS TWO ORIENTAL LANGUAGES” continues the author’s exploration of the oddities of the English language. This particular selection was inspired by reading another author’s exploration and explanation of Japanese (and its links to Chinese) in an on-line post on a site the author follows. The author and her poet mother were both drawn to oriental poetry and therefore the native languages in which these were written. When Kathleen was still a child, she found a small pamphlet describing the Chinese script from which she copied the ancient version of the word for “horse” (which still looked like the image of a horse) to paint onto a porcelain bowl she created in her fourth grade classroom when they studied China.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“RAINDROPS,” is a seasonal haiku which the author wrote during an exceptionally rainy year. It is included this week as the Fall season comes to an end.

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:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

  1. Armistice/Veterans Day occurs this month and the site displays three takes on this subject. Does Veterans’ Day have personal meaning for you? Write down your thoughts.
  2. As Autumn closes out and Winter hovers near, November tends to make for moody days. Do you agree or disagree? Why?
  3. Color is such a feature of Autumn, what is your favorite color and why?

Green is juicy, chewy and richly moist.

It is the end of hunger

And smells of dinner.

Green wraps the skin in baby bunting,

Soft, safe and warm.

 

Brown tastes like baker’s chocolate

Or the sand flavor of a desert wind.

It has a dryness that clings to the teeth.

It smells of loam and mulch warm in the sun

And may slightly tickle, like grass.

 

Black is the slick hard smoothness

Of tempered steel: unyielding, unforgiving.

Black has the chemical taste of polyester,

And the flat aftertaste of factory milled cloth.

It has no more smell that aluminum or plastic.

 

Orange is hot chocolate surprised

With a touch of cinnamon or chili spice.

It is the touch of chenille both soft and not—

With ups and downs, uneven.

Orange is thick with the smells

Of bleeding saps, the perfumes of spice.

 

Red is stiff taffeta petticoats,

The sharp cold that cuts

And tastes like blood

And smells of tundra.

Or it is hot, perhaps with a scalding heat.

It smells of wood smoke

And has the tang of resins

Charred and steaming.

It is a taste that clings

Dry as ash upon the tongue.

 

Yellow is the delicate sweetness

Of honeysuckle sap.

It is not heavy with overtones

Like honey or maple syrup.

It smells of spring blossoms.

In the coolness of evening

It has caught the warmth of sun

Found in ceramics and rock.

Yellow slips across the skin

Like  bangle bracelets

Ultimately delicate

Infinitely light.

 

The surface of velour or corduroy

Is the fleshy touch of Red-violet

Which tastes of fruit, soft yet crunchy:

Cherries or grapes,

Apples, plums or pears,

Melons or peaches.

It smells like the first cut

That opens the summer watermelon.

 

Blue is the touch of a down feather

Or the wet cling of a cold shower.

Blue has the contrary sweetness

Of rock salt or the sourness of brine

From too long exposure to decay.

It has the dank smell found in caves

Or in the hollows of sea shells.

 

Violet slips across the tongue

With the heady, heaviness of honey.

Velvet smells of night blooming flowers.

The touch of violet is the allure

Of expensive velvet or the softest of furs.

It is a tempting warmth

Deep enough to smother in.

#rainbow, #senses, #flavors, #textures. #prism, #color

there is a storehouse of delight

billion-globed in the night:

a treasure there but for the finding

a knowing how to reach the site

 

#treasure

Come one, come all, come to the show!

Come hear the blaze of lightning

And feel the loving caress of moonbeams.

Smell the taste of green apple pie,

Then hear the glories of Autumn’s colors.

Then touch the sunrise, caress a sunset.

Watch the soul when an operatic diva

Lifts it as high as a C: with Aida.

Come taste the perfume of a rose.

Smell that marvelous eclectic tingle

Of the windstorm through distant trees.

Feel the quiver of a tenor’s noise

And breathe in the beauty of your dreams.

Best of all, you can, if you try

See, taste, smell, feel and hear

The most innate glory of human loves.

#senses

GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby

“STOREHOUSE,” was found among the poet’s papers. It is another example of the poet’s persistent optimism which seems appropriate as Thanksgiving approaches and the end of another year.

REFRACTIONS—the poetry by Robert Roxby

“SENSING LIFE,” was selected as a companion to the poem this week by Kathleen Roxby as both are celebration of our senses. The poet’s only comment on this poem, “Just musing.”

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“A PRISM SAVORY,” another poem intended for her chapbook A Singular Prism, a series exploring color . The poem is included this week in anticipation of the feasting to come at Thanksgiving dinners.

 

 

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:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.