Inventive Language

I’m thinking about recording a new language – I’ve got 2 words so far this week!  (I didn’t say it was going to be a very verbose language, now did I?)

Of course, you may have already had some exposure to the first word in my new language, from this post earlier in the week, and I am glad to report that “irky” seems to have been well received.  By the way, it is pronounced irk-ee? (and it absolutely must have the rising inflection emphasis of the question mark on the ee, otherwise it just sounds silly!)

So, pluffelled (ooh, there’s another word – now I have 3) up with the exuberance for new words, my brain threw this one up/out tonight:

SPLODDELLED  (splod-delled)

For those folks who might be having trouble grasping the meaning of this fine new word – and let’s face it, who wouldn’t – I have bunged it into some context in the following sentence:   “I sploddelled my wine on my desk when I lifted up the glass too fast”.
Yes, fine linguists everywhere, cringe at the monstrosity that is my brain trying to describe events of wine spillage!

Oh, and in case you might be wondering about my third word, pluffelled (pluff-elled), which I just birthed above – it means “puffed up like a proud peacock displaying it’s plumage”. Sounds exactly like that, don’t you think?

So, there you have it – 3 new words for my brand new language – now I only need to find a name for my language, any suggestions?

Question 32: How to speak dishes

I do not understand it, not one little bit,
I clean them every evening, and on the sink they sit,
yet next time when I notice the sink is piled high
with dirty cups and mugs and such, stacked up to the sky.

I’m not sure who is using all my cutlery each day
or how dirty plates sneakily arrive, when my back is turned away
the bowls that sink down slowly, under pressure of cold water
it stretches plausibility, to think they’re all used by my daughter!

I have come to the conclusion there are phantoms in my house
that only can communicate via the dirty dishes left about
I’m not sure of their message, but I have begun to think
that their language must be called – the perpetual dirty sink!

© ceenoa