Sound and Sense, 4

Our English dictionary has in it many words whose sounds and meanings can … confuse. In this next series of doggerel, I’ll be writing about several sorts of such words.

The first—the contronym: a word, says the Oxford English Dictionary, that has “two opposite or contradictory meanings.”

Earliest published use: 1962.

bound adj.

1. heading to a destination

2. restrained from movement

We heard that he was Yukon bound:

He hoped for riches in the ground.

Alas, there were none to be found.

Now all he does is hang around

And mutter things not too profound.

**

They bound and gagged him—reason why?

He was a most obnoxious guy.

He always bragged about his looks—

And claimed he’d “never read no books.”

No women liked him—nor no men—

And this, of course, is not a sin.

But he became unbearable—

So truly awful, terrible.

We gagged him—he was firmly bound.

He’s on a boat, now Yukon bound.

Sound and Sense, 3

Our English dictionary has in it many words whose sounds and meanings can … confuse. In this next series of doggerel, I’ll be writing about several sorts of such words.

The first—the contronym: a word, says the Oxford English Dictionary, that has “two opposite or contradictory meanings.”

Earliest published use: 1962.

bill  noun

1. Payment

2. Invoice

He said that he was feeling ill—

He needed bucks—a certain pill.

I checked my wallet—found a bill—

But not sufficient for old Phil.

“A five?! That’s really next to nil!”

I thought that he was somewhat shrill—

And told him it was time to chill.

And shoved him then right into Jill,

Who’d recently come up the hill

To fetch a pail of water—still!

**

My wireless bill seemed awfully high—

But I just paid it, willingly.

For I have now become a guy

Who loves to stream on his TV!

Sound and Sense, 2

Our English dictionary has in it many words whose sounds and meanings can … confuse. In this next series of doggerel, I’ll be writing about several sorts of such words.

The first—the contronym: a word, says the Oxford English Dictionary, that has “two opposite or contradictory meanings.”

Earliest published use: 1962.

aught noun

1. anything, whatever

2. a cipher, zero.

For aught she knew he must have been

The living image of all sin.

There was no crime he hadn’t tried—

Including service as a guide

For “personal wealth” (his own, she learned);

He stole from others—never earned

A single solitary U. S. dime.

Arrested, he spent endless time

In jails and prisons everwhere.

By then, of course, she didn’t care.

**

He asked what she had gone and bought;

She told him—lying—simply, “Aught.”

But he employed what he’d been taught.

And checked her bag—oh, she was caught!

With great emotion she was wrought,

So therapy she finally sought.

She liked her therapist—a lot—

And left her husband so distraught.

A kinder lover! (Food for thought!)

Sound and Sense, 1

Our English dictionary has in it many words whose sounds and meanings can … confuse. In this next series of doggerel, I’ll be writing about several sorts of such words.

The first—the contronym: a word, says the Oxford English Dictionary, that has “two opposite or contradictory meanings.”

Earliest published use: 1962.

apology

1. written or spoken expression of one’s regret, remorse, or sorrow for having insulted, injured, or wrong another.

2. defense, excuse, or justification in speech or writing, as for a cause or doctrine.

She thought that my apology

Was somewhat thin and frail.

And so she slumped into my arms—

And I commenced to wail.

*

I crafted my apology

So carefully that day

That listeners stood up and cheered—

They now saw things my way!

Wordbirds, 79

AT LAST—We’ve now commenced our third—and final—journey through Webster’s 3rd. This time, I’m picking a word near the middle of each entry for each letter—a word that interests me for some reason or a word I’d not ever known before—and surrounding it with a frayed coat of doggerel.

Words that flew into my life from Webster’s 3^rd.

zimocca noun

a rather harsh commercial sponge

“The dyer’s hand,” so says the Bard,

Becomes so very deeply stained

That it is then supremely hard

To cleanse it. This I well explained

To that sad dyer whose wrist and hand

Were deeply dark. He couldn’t bear

The thought that he now bore a brand

Of his profession. “Isn’t fair!”

He cried so dismally. He tried

Some remedies—like special soap.

But that was fruitless. So he cried.

Whate’er he tried, the answer, “Nope!”

But then he tried zimocca, and

He was so firm in his belief

That even when his skinless hand

Emerged, he felt such pure relief!

Wordbirds, 78

AT LAST—We’ve now commenced our third—and final—journey through Webster’s 3rd. This time, I’m picking a word near the middle of each entry for each letter—a word that interests me for some reason or a word I’d not ever known before—and surrounding it with a frayed coat of doggerel.

Words that flew into my life from Webster’s 3^rd.

yenshee noun [yen-SHEE]

the residue found in the bowl of an opium pipe by smoking

She said his breath was like yenshee—

Unpleasant and against the law.

He felt a hardening of his jaw:

“How dare you think to speak to me

So disrespectfully!” He turned

Away. And felt his anger roar—

He couldn’t like her anymore.

“She hasn’t softened! Hasn’t learned!”

His anger finally grew so ripe

He wasn’t sure what he should do,

And after he had thought it through,

He loaded up and smoked a pipe.

He mellowed out, and reached for more,

Then heard some footsteps on the walk.

“She’s back!” he cried. “ She wants to talk!”

And then the cops kicked in the door.

Wordbirds, 77

AT LAST—We’ve now commenced our third—and final—journey through Webster’s 3rd. This time, I’m picking a word near the middle of each entry for each letter—a word that interests me for some reason or a word I’d not ever known before—and surrounding it with a frayed coat of doggerel.

Words that flew into my life from Webster’s 3^rd.

xiphoid adj.  [ZY-foid]

shaped like a sword

Young Arthur had a stunning dream,

A dream he hoped would soon come true.

He saw a sword all bathed in beam,

A light bizarre—but mostly blue.

And one day, not much later on,

He found that very dreamworld thing.

But when he reached, the sword was gone.

He looked—’twas gone. He’d not be King?

And back at home he told his dad,

Who said, “'Twas just a xiphoid shape

And not a sword—and that's too bad.”

But Arthur soon made his escape

And went in search of what he’d seen.

And spent his life in search extreme.

But then he met the sweet Pauline,*

And found another sort of dream.

*This was Arthur Jones, not the young King Arthur, so, of course, no Guinevere.