even i tire, as if expecting to reach to reach
the shores of a dozen,
let alone that of million...
             ambitions are rarely wished upon,
they are drives, drivel and drones,
just about the time i thought i could
spell out the dictionary, realising i wasn't god...
so i cheated, took to the shortcut of
a thesaurus...
         why oh why do i even bother to write?
i have vague memories of a life when
i didn't...
           i guess you can only call writing
the last and only expenditure...
                      or what's called the currency
of frivolous dependence, a per se argument...
      even in england this art-form is seen
as a mental illness...
                    rarely a coping mechanism,
after all, nature doesn't adore waste,
               so man makes it.
                   so this art comes back as an antidote
to orthodoxy of grammar,
                  and then at best a relearning of
the concept of pause,
            at first the punctuation markings
and then the higher tier of diacritical marks
that allow syllable incisions,
         because the double standards of english
can, and are confusing even to the most proficient
speaker... that ****** lack of clear indication
of the word being digested with desired prompt,
to, for example, read for an audio-book audience;
i blame it on the double consonant rule of english...
   e.g. as in little... or manner...
and given that english as a language doesn't
use any diacritical punctures, it's not hard to see
why there's no talk of dyslexia in poland;
the most you'll ever hear is the complete opposite,
the extreme of illiteracy...
the dyslexic conundrum is that english is
difficult, because of the difficulties it itself imposes,
but then if it didn't, it wouldn't be so ominous:
it truly is a language of calamity,
         obviously a language of almost omnipotent
rule, but still a bag of nerves (as the saying goes);
you travel into lands of obscurity (e.g. poland)
and you practically care to have a peaceful day,
because that's the only sensibility in that and akin lands...
you actually get to read books,
   doubling it up while with your grandfather
walking and talking en route the graveyard,
and then in the graveyard, talking hyena talk...
well... that's the name i invented for our talks...
hyenas of the graveyard;
             and yes, ...              punctuation mark
is a cliff-hanger.
                           punctuation marks and asthma?
maybe i am short on breath,
but then again i might be akin to a hot-air balloon...
see! i don't know if that difficulty of english
is because of the double-consonant aesthetic
or a double-vowel aesthetic... to be honest?
    i can recognise the correct encoding
if i have double-vowels to deal with than double- +
-consonants... **** me, did you see that?
  that's an antithesis to the paragraph right there.
otherwise known as the curling centipede move.
               people do call the smooth operator
singer sadé... but not the marquis, he's just plain
sad(e)... i guess as a precursor to an -ism suffix;
still, invisible things happening,
                  it's too late by now, english has too many
particularities to employ diacritical marks,
that's why someone russian in politics might say
it more plainly: too many oddjobs on those islands;
nicer to say eccentrics though;
but we really would have to employ a massive sieve
to apply continental distinctions to the english
language to even think about educational standards
to pass on the tongue...
      this isn't even me being unrealistic,
                                as any experiment goes,
       you try to fit in some realism into the perspective.
yet is it absolutely necessary?
                     well... are we here to speak local?
             given the time we have to spare
and given the dyslexia question...
                                      well ... is a cliff-hanger
that breaking up lines of poetry by sentences that
never fit into neat-tight rectangles, it would appear
i was making double-standards;
   no greater friend than the semi-colon,
which, mind you, begs me to ask the cause / case
of hyphenating words back into original saxon
        fudgeklebenauge...
    the practice akin to polymethylsiloxane polyhydrate,
that's the saxon genetic signature in english...
fudge-packing, goo, gooey, you really
have to strain your eyes on the ****** word,
again, diacritical markings could make it easier
to be said in one go...
                      the liberal english would add about
5 scalpel incisions into that word using a hyphen;
now to test intuition:
     poly-methyl-siloxane poly-hydrate
****... two too many in my prediction;
still, not a bad gamble... although i could have
dissected that word further:
      poly-methyl-silo-xane           poly-hy-drate
             1   +       1 + 1                       + 1 + 1         = 5.
genius... and then the equivalent of chewing gum
on the pavement when said really quickly.