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Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?


This couplet struck me.. i say groats (buckwheat groats) to ryhme with oats and i say grits, (hominy grits)to rhyme with bits. i didn't realize that this was one of the those words AnnaS might like her grits, but i like my groats, and think buckwheat pancakes to be the best!
another is grindstone-- nowdays, most americans would say grind (to rhyme with hind) stone, but i understand it used to be said grind (to rhyme with wind)stn (not quite stin, the vowel is so soft as almost not to be there)

Chitterling is an other, (properly said, chit'lins) and now sometimes spelled chittlins or chittlings.

what other surprizes did you find?



#77878 08/13/02 10:11 AM
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Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?


And where did this little piece of flimflammery come from?

According to the AHD, they're not even related. (Well, they come from the same PIE root) Grits is from ME gryt, bran, OE grytt. Groats, pronounced with a long o, if you please, from ME grotes, OE grotan. They both trace back to PIE ghreu-, to rub, grind.

Harrumph!®


#77879 08/13/02 10:42 AM
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I think, Faldage and Helen, the problem presented in the couplet in question was one of "it"--when to pronounce "it" as "it," for instance, and when to pronounce it "ite" to rhyme with "night." Take a look at the four lines again:

Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?


OK. We've got the long "i" in "spikey"--right? And we've got the long "i" in crazy ol' "Psyche"--right?
But then we've got the short "i" in "wits" and "grits"--but then we've got the long "i" in "writing"--which just mixes up the whole "it" configuration--with that long "i."

In other words, the pronunciation rules are driving the versifier in question a bit crazy:

Psyche
Writing
grits
wits
spikey

...when to use the long "i" and when to use the short "i"

And then there's the problem of writing (or should that be pronounced "writting" thinks the poor versifier) the word "groats"--which has the extra "a" in it. The poor versifier is really thinking, "Why shouldn't groats be spelled 'grots' and why shouldn't grits be pronounced 'grytes'?" Or something like that.

I don't like this poem personally, but that's just a matter of taste. I tend not to be very crazy about things that rhyme unless they're done pretty masterfully. However, I think that the pronoununciation/spelling problem is what the poet above is getting at--you know, the inconsistency. The very lazy brain wanting a very easy way to slosh through the language. "Grimm's Law" as Hardy describes it in "Jude."


#77880 08/22/02 02:30 PM
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I love rhyming poetry, especially nonsense poetry. Here are two sterling examples one by Spike Milligan and one by Lewis Carroll. They have such fun with the language, twisting it all out of shape with words made to fit the rhythm of the poem. I love it I do
On the Ning Nang Nong

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
And the Monkeys all say Boo!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang!
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So it's Ning Nang Nong!
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning!
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang!
The mice go Clang!

What a noisy place to belong,
Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!

1 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
2 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
3 All mimsy were the borogoves,
4 And the mome raths outgrabe.

5 "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
6 The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
7 Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
8 The frumious Bandersnatch!"

9 He took his vorpal sword in hand:
10 Long time the manxome foe he sought --
11 So rested he by the Tumtum tree.
12 And stood awhile in thought.

13 And as in uffish thought he stood,
14 The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
15 Came wiffling through the tulgey wood,
16 And burbled as it came!

17 One, two! One, two! And through and through
18 The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
19 He left it dead, and with its head
20 He went galumphing back.

21 "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
22 Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
23 O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
24 He chortled in his joy.

25 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
26 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
27 All mimsy were the borogoves,
28 And the mome raths outgrabe.





#77881 08/28/02 09:29 PM
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I love rhyming poetry, especially nonsense poetry

Couldn't agree more, dode - though the first poem that I found came to mind after Jabberwocky wasn't quite so meaningless:


anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did.

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain


I still have a very soft spot for e.e.cummings, but when I first read his work it was more like meeting the perfect literary life-partner or finding God or something.
"Turned on", indeed.



#77882 08/29/02 10:08 AM
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WOW, never met HIM before. WOW


#77883 09/03/02 12:36 AM
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On the Ning Nang Nong

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
And the Monkeys all say Boo!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang!
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So it's Ning Nang Nong!
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning!
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang!
The mice go Clang!

What a noisy place to belong,
Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!

I can't read this, Dody--I hear it as a song! Is it one, do you know?


#77884 09/03/02 12:26 PM
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Given it's attributed to Spike Milligan, it probably *is a song!


#77885 09/03/02 02:35 PM
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try reading it out loud as fast as you can speak the words until 'you just can't catch them...' then read it dead slowly. It kind of trips up on itself as a poem, like all the words are racing to try and be in the last line.


#77886 09/03/02 03:01 PM
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try reading it out loud as fast as you can speak the words

I found it came out very sing-song (or rather Ning Nong), reminding me - not so surprisingly - of the Goons' "Ying-Tong Song". Can anyone find an audio version of this on the Web?


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