What are examples of dialectical variations?

Answer 1

Some Yorkshire would be like " Thee art' fun these days" Or anything that isn't proper language .

ex: " I hadn't any money since 09' " " Tha' couldn't say much since thee mouth is full "

Answer 2

Examples of dialectical variations include differences in pronunciation (such as accents), vocabulary (specific words or phrases used in different regions), and grammar (variations in sentence structure or verb conjugation) within a particular language. These variations can occur due to geographical, social, or historical factors that influence how people communicate within a specific community or region.

Answer 3

Try these:

Gwendolyn Brooks "We Real Cool"

We Real Cool Buy the CDby Gwendolyn Brooks

THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL. We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.

Here's a poem by an Appalachian poet I saw online: The Interview

© 2008 by Becky Mushko

Sure, I'll talk to a fine looking young feller like you.

Don't get much company nowadays.

Got plenty of time, nothing to do but set here.

Teacher sent you, did she?

"Get out and talk to some old codger," I reckon she said.

Well, you found one. Pull yourself up a chair.

Little closer-I ain't gonna bite.

Ain't got enough teeth left for serious biting nohow.

Now whatcha wanna know?

What did I do? Farmed two hundred acres

like my daddy and his before him.

Tobacco, corn, and wheat-them was the money crops.

How? Me and a mule struggling against a hard ground.

Many a time, I'uz tempted to fling down the reins,

leave the mule standing in the middle of a furrow,

and just up and leave.

Where would I go?

Town, I reckon. Work in a factory or a mill.

Make reg'lar money. Be somebody.

But I never did go.

What stopped me?

That farm held me tighter'n a spider holds a fly.

Sucked the juices right outta me.

Left me the old dry husk you're looking at,

tangled so tight in its web I'd never get loose.

Then, too, I couldn't work walled in.

I'd got used to the sky, y'see,

everything growing green around me.

Besides, who'd look after the place?

I can't stand to see a good farm

overrun with pokeweed and cat-briers.

Folks held me, too. Family ties grip tight, that's sure.

By the time I buried Mama and Daddy,

I had me a wife and a crop a' kids.

Time was, I couldn't go nowhere

without one a' them chaps hanging

onto my pants' leg tighter'n a tick on a dog.

Then they growed up,

scattered like seeds in the wind.

Not a one took root.

They come back, visit,

brag how good they got it in town.

Did I ever go modern?

Well, yeah-got a tractor, y'know.

Then more and more machines. Debts piled up high

as Mama's pancakes on Sunday breakfast.

Did I make a good living?

Heck, no! But I reckon I made me a right good life.

Anythin' else you wanna know?