One Language, Two Nations

A poem about a confusing language called English

Two nations, two styles, two ways of spelling, The English language is so confusing, Because I grew up with a British education, But, also a part of the American TV generation.

When I start writing like an American, I can’t help but ask what happened to u?

I love to write with a bit of humor, But, Americans just don’t get my humour.

I try to add a little color to my stories, But, it always seems like I add the wrong colour.

I tried asking my neighbor for writing advice, But, he insisted that I’m asking the wrong neighbour.

You can get some L’s online But in Britain you get double

Once, two people were quarrelling online, But no one knew why they quarreled.

Apparently, it was about a girl’s modelling career, And about the skimpy dresses, she modeled.

Enraged, they both tried cancelling each other, But in the end, they both got canceled.

Every time I try to catch some Zs’ I have to struggle with an imposter

Every night I lay down and analyse a situation, I find myself trying to overanalyze the information.

My mind will recognise it’s a waste of time, But my heart refuses profusely to recognize.

Drowned in these thoughts I cannot organise, I organize my room until the sunrise.

If I took a driving test in the land of the free, I think they’ll grade me below a ‘C’

In 2015 I got my driving license, But till today I haven’t used that licence.

In my defense, it’s unsafe to drive, Unfortunately, I know my defence is weak.

In truth, I’m afraid of verbal offense, Sorry for lying, I meant no offence.

As you can see from this quartet of stories, I’m confused and will be until my forties, I’ll just give up and relax with a spot of tea, And gulp down some ‘merican mac ‘n’ cheese.

Growing up in Sri Lanka, we are taught British grammar and spelling from grade one to the end of university. But, all the entertainment I love (and am addicted to) is from America and thus in American English. So you can see my predicament when I try to write stories.

I’m usually left with hundreds of red lines as I juggle between the two types of English. Ultimately, I think this problem will be with me for the rest of my life, but, I shouldn’t let it get between me and my mediocre stories. Has this ever happened to you?

This poem (if you can call it that) was inspired by 20 years of frustrating misspellings and a quirky little prompt by Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她)’s prompt — Confusing Rules. Thank you for inspiring me to vent my frustrations through some creativity!

I’d like to tag Rochelle Silva, Mil H., Blank Voice, Sri Devi Om, and Gustave Deresse to play along. Anyone else who is interested is welcome to try too!

If you want to read some of my other work, I recommend this story. Hopefully, you won’t tell my girlfriend about it.

Oh and check out this poem by Blank Voice. I find her work pretty awesome and she is also a super researcher and fellow introvert!

Thank you for reading and have a great day!