Thursday, May 2, 2019

Language

I like hearing English spoken with many and varied accents. I remember that at my company, more than 20 years ago, there was an Accent Reduction Team, formed by Indian-American engineers who felt that their career fortunes would improve if they spoke like native Michiganders. I remember objecting at the time, stating that I loved to hear English spoken by my Indian-born colleagues. The musical lilt they gave to my native tongue was something wonderful to the ear. Whenever God reverses a curse, he does more than simply put things back to the way they were before the curse. So, when God in Christ redeemed the world, he did not simply put men back to the original Edenic state. No, he went far beyond that, taking humanity into Himself in the Person of Jesus Christ. Thus, a Redeemed person is even more blessed than an unFallen person. It is the same with language. When God reversed Babel's curse, He did not merely put us back to a common language such as Esperanto. No, He did something FAR more glorious. He allowed us to keep the rich diversity of languages, and one step beyond that. He allowed us to have each language spoken in a plethora of accents. The whole things is just so rich and beautiful and glorious. It is far more than a simple utilitarian solution of allowing us to comprehend each other's words. It is a majestic amplification and magnification of language. It is a phenomenal enrichment of human experience.

Friday, April 26, 2019

Another New Poem - The Small Commission

The Small Commission

When school yearbooks are thrust forth to be signed,
We give out life advice.  We speak our mind,
And charge our classmates to keep some small vow:
“Recall our good times!”  “Stay as you are now!”

As Christ did with his Great Commission bind
His church to teach and baptize all mankind,
So do the yearbook’s Small Commissions urge
Obedience to some much less solemn charge.

If we look back to that glad time remote,
Shall we have held to what our friends then wrote?
Were Small Commissions in our hearts enshrined?
Or were their words forgotten over time?

Well, one of these at least I’ve kept so far:
“Dear Paul, please stay as crazy as you are!”

© 2019, Paul Erlandson

Monday, December 24, 2018

Merry Christmas - 2018

For this year's Christmas cards, we are recycling and old poem of mine from 1997.   Here it is:


Sunday, December 9, 2018

A Prayer (Poem?) of Thanksgiving

Today, I give thanks for the circular (trigonometric) functions, for rising and falling, advancing and receding, cresting and troughing, swelling and shrinking, for every wave, for all things periodic, for the seasons, for weal and woe, for the song of the cicada, for rising up and for lying down, for eccentric and concentric contractions, for spinning cranks and reciprocating pistons, for sine, cosine, and tangent, and for all the variegated vibrations of this life. Amen.

Monday, May 14, 2018

Another Old Poem - "Mansmith"

This poem is from 2005.

Mansmith

Inventor of Inventors,
Father of parents,
Judge of judges,
Almighty God, I honour Thee.

Teacher of teachers,

High priest of priests,
Servant of servants,
Son of God, I adore Thee.

Architect of architects,

Healer of physicians,
Lover of lovers,
Holy Ghost, I embrace Thee.

Author of authors,
Cultivator of gardeners,
Sculptor of sculptors,
Thou great Mansmith, I worship thee.

© 2005, Paul W. Erlandson

Old Poem - "Pwned"

This is a poem I wrote back in 2007. See this link for background on the word "pwned."


Pwned


By my love, my heart is pwned.
On love's whetstone it is hwned.
And her body, taut and twned
Makes me tremble, as if stwned.

Oft in loneliness I grwned,
Till she emailed me, or phwned.
Then to her my poor heart mwned;
"Thou art on my heart enthrwned!"


© 2007, Paul W. Erlandson