Outmoded Slang

SLANG: a type of language consisting of words and phrases that are regarded as very informal, are more common in speech than writing, and are typically restricted to a particular context or group of people.

It’s a shame when words expire,
Especially the vernacular,
Like pizazz and balderdash;
Such words are quite spectacular.

Gadzooks has long been dead
And other words are dying.
Lost are darn and drat it,
In desuetude they are lying.

scallywag, twerp and wally,
Scoundrel, bounder, cad,
Have passed away and gone,
Their day they all have had.

No more nincompoops or rotters,
They rolled sweetly off the tongue.
So sad to see their passing,
No more we’ll hear them sung.

As for pillocks and rapscallions,
They’ve all died and gone to heaven,
Where they can still be rascals,
While awaiting Armageddon.

Onomatopoeia

Onomatopoeia

 

Muck, that is a dirty word,
It sounds as if it smells;
A word to wash one’s hands of,
Its very sound repels.

Loony leaves a nasty taste,
Slides smoothly off the tongue,
But it is not nice, take my advice,
A word to leave unsung.

Slime is such another,
And slimy is the same,
Words to keep away from,
Ones I won’t exclaim.

Take words like boos and booze,
To me they are repugnant.
They may describe one’s feelings,
But they smack of poor judgement.

They’re onomatopoeic,
Not exactly slang’
But they lack that sense of candour,
Like boom and thump and bang.

So many words are wholesome,
Sweet sounding and pure.
But some words are not tasty,
Rude, uncouth and immature.

 

A Literal Death

Photo by Shamia Casiano on Pexels.com

A Reverie – on linguistic bugbears, slang, cliché, and the vernacular

Have a good day
You guys

You know what I mean
For back in the day
That bad hair day
I have to say
To be honest
At this moment in time
I’m not gonna lie
I found out the hard way
I’d lost the plot

So they told me
Keep it real
It’s the only way
And anytime soon
Do you know what?

Well, like I said
At the end of the day
We’re in uncharted territory
We are where we are
So as they say
just let’s do it

So I ran with it and
To coin a phrase
Let’s be absolutely clear about this
I literally died

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gordon, Fanny, Nora and Jiminy

(A light-hearted tale involving idiomatic language of a questionable kind)

Four one-time friends met up one day,
Their language was extreme;
Given to bombast, bluster, blather,
Just invective it would seem.

Expletives of the milder kind
Soon cut the air like glass,
From’ Fiddlesticks’ and ‘Jeepers Creepers’
To ‘What the Dickens, You silly ass?’

“Well, I must say, sweet Fanny Adams”,
Gordon Bennett said,
“Cor Blimey, you look cute just now,
Why don’t the two of us get wed?”

“Bloody Nora”, she replied,
“You can’t be serious.
Our dearest friend just next to you
She will be furious .”

“Don’t you ‘Bloody Nora’ me”,
Gordon Bennett replied,
“I’ll have your goddam guts for garters.”
Then Bloody Nora upped and cried,

“Oh, Streuth”, she loudly uttered then,
“Crikey and Gadzooks!
I thought ‘twas me you fancied most,
What about my famed good looks?”

But up spoke Jiminy Cricket then
The mildest of the four
Offended that he’d not heard right
“But it’s me, I thought, that you adore.”

“Crikey, you all get on my wick”,
Gordon began to moan,
“I don’t wish any of you ill,
But do cut out the whining tone.”

Before you could say “My giddy aunt”,
“Bob’s your Uncle”, said Fanny,
“Stone the crows you bunch of twits,
Your oafish language is uncanny.”

“You speak in riddles and in slang,
Codswallop is your tongue;
Holy Mackerel and Hell’s Bells,
You all are very highly strung.”

And so this odd exchange went on
In voices loud and shrill.
They hardly stopped to take a breath
‘Twas dubious language overkill.

But then, at last they quietened down,
Ran out of steam I suppose.
Their parting shots were more than rude,
But those I daren’t to you disclose.

 

To Titillate The Tourists

To be beside the sea
That is our nation’s fashion;
It’s obviously the place
For promulgating passion.

But how do seaside shoppers
Decide just what to buy?
Are they tempted by advertisements?
I often wonder why.

Well, once upon a summer,
On a hot and sunny day,
On holiday in Devon,
On a stroll around the bay.

I came across this advert
Along the promenade;
I must admit initially
I thought I’d have it barred.

A touch of seaside whimsy
That’s OK and I’m all for it,
But such immodest come-ons,
Who’d have ever thought it!

‘KNICKERS FOR A NICKER;
POUCHES FOR A POUND’,
To titillate the tourists,
Well, such ads are all around.

But on a seafront shop
I didn’t think it right;
I even thought that something
Was wrong with my eyesight.

I don’t know why it was
I was so overcome,
With thoughts of indignation
I really was struck dumb.

It was just a bit of fun,
Why was I so upset?
But when little George cried ‘Look Dad’
I broke out in a sweat.

“That’s what you and mum wore
When I spied you yesterday.
Can Sue and me have one each,
Like you?”, I heard him say.

NOTE:

‘Nicker’ is Cockney Slang for One Pound.  The OED says it’s origin is unknown, but suggests it could be originally horse racing slang.  The term … has …  London associations … and dates from the early 20th Century (it explains that terrible old joke: ‘Why can’t a one-legged woman change a pound note? Because she’s only got half a (k)nicker!’ and which nobody seems to know the origin of).