Unruly: Day 21 of National Poetry Month

Day 21: National Poetry Month

Unruly calendar of mixed up days… More like “U” is the 21st letter of the alphabet. Today is the 23rd day of National Poetry Month and this will be my 24th post – so, yeah, cattywumpus ought to be the word of the day. And despite what Merriam-Webster has to say about it, that is my preferred dialectical spelling variant.

I actually had no idea what the origin and definition of the word was, when I used it in my last post. I have always used it, and heard it used, in its second sense: askew, awry, catercornered. It “probably” comes from the word “catamount,” which takes its origins from “cat-a-mountain” and refers to any of a number of wildcats. So, I suppose “cattywumpus” is as good a spelling as any and well describes what a room might look like if you trapped a mountain lion in it.

Speaking of colorful, regional words and phrases, I thought of another one, yesterday afternoon, while walking in the park with a friend. Storms surrounded us, but we were confident that we could get in a round or two—each one being 1.7 miles—before the rain drove us to shelter. As we walked, bright patches of blue appeared between the clouds and wedged enough space for sunshine to hold the rain at bay. My grandmother used to say that if there was “enough blue to make a Dutchman’s breeches” then it wouldn’t rain. I told my friend this, and for the first time ever, I thought to examine the origins of a phrase that I’d thought was just a quaint, Southern colloquialism.

But apparently, the phrase dates to the 1600s! See the following for some fascinating details and side-alleys down the rabbit hole:

• There’s more than one way to skin a cat – Folkways Nowadays
• Dutchman’s Breeches « Historically Speaking

Dutch sailors during the Anglo-Dutch Naval Wars of the 17th century wore wide-legged, baggy trousers. So the saying goes that if there was enough blue sky to patch a pair, the cloud cover was breaking up enough and meant good weather to come.

Unruly

Who’d dare to skin a cat that’s gone a-wumpus,
or drive a bull, unruly, from a china shop?
They’d say that it’s a Herculean task, and yet
only one intrepid soul can tame—no other—
a tantrum’s tempest, willful wild rumpus
twisting like an eight-legged octopod
tornado in a bag. Fiercely firm but gently set…
Her name, as you must surely know, is Mother.

Other National Poetry Month Posts

• National Poetry Month, Texas Style!
• Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts
• Bee Sting: Day 2 of National Poetry Month
• Cacophony and CBD: Day 3 in Nonsense Verse and Found Poetry
• Technically, a Writer: Day 3 of National Poetry Month
• Dive: Day 4 of National Poetry Month
• Storm Front: Day 4 of National Poetry Month
• Energized: Day 5 of National Poetry Month
• Grump: Day 5 ½ of National Poetry Month
• Future Frittered Away: Day 6 of National Poetry Month
• Hell, Hell, Hell: Day 7 (More or Less) of National Poetry Month
• Insomnia: Day 8 of National Poetry Month
• Juxtaposition: Day 9 of National Poetry Month
• Knife Edge: Day 10 of National Poetry Month
• Lost a Day: Day 11 of National Poetry Month
• Many Definitions: Day 12 of National Poetry Month
• New Form – Quadrille Quaiku: Day 13 of National Poetry Month
• Ode to Imagination: Day 14 of National Poetry Month
• Pixellated People: Day 15 of National Poetry Month
• Quintessential, Querulous Quintet: Day 16/17 of National Poetry Month
• Renewal: Day 18 of National Poetry Month
• Secrets of the Terrarium: Day 19 of National Poetry Month
• Tenacious: Day 20 of National Poetry Month
• Unruly: Day 21 of National Poetry Month

Your Turn!