Whisper My Name
You run your words along my spine
when you whisper my name.
Husky voice of passionate embrace
bringing me to heights of want,
surfing your waves of need,
yielding to wafted passion
cushioned deeply in my ear.
You tenderly wrap my name
in gossamer tissues of love
opening to my name
chiseled in granite
for all eternity,
murmured flames
of my identity.
Name resonates
through floating echoes
and is absorbed
through my skin.
The Proof of You
A name has power, a belief that is shared by many culture throughout the globe.
A name identifies you.
holds you accountable.
defines who you are.
It is the representation of you, the essence of you being put into words. Your past, your present, your very being.
From your parents, it is a gift, one they bestow upon you when you came into this world.
Your nickname, a form of affection from those around you.
An insult, proof that your antagonist notices you enough to hate you.
Epithets represent your accomplishments - be it for good or evil.
Pseudo names, the masks - personas - you choose to hide behind.
A name, your name, is your blessing, your curse, your bond, your liberation - it is your brand in life.
Without a name you are but a blank slate.
Without a name, you have no history.
Without a name, you will not be remembered.
Without a name, you do not exist.
Nothing comes out of nothing.
None that exist is nameless.
Now, is that disagreement I sense? So tell me friend:
without a name, what are you?
Living Up to Your Name
Sixty-Five years ago
my mother named me
Joye Pearl Toth.
A name chock-full of problematic expectations.
Joy by itself presses the poor kid to be unfailingly happy
and invites slams like "I should have named you sorrow."
Add the odd spelling common in the early 1940s
and every day of my life is an adventure
as bankers, airlines and pharmacists
calling out "Joyce? Joey? Joe?"
igniting spats about which of us
spelled my name wrong and who
should correct which one.
I've heard every joke
overjoyed, spread a little joy,
and with my maiden name
joy toth the world.
Then came my
natural stripper name
joy pearl
so literal
filled with
too much promise
to lay onto a little kid
who didn't know all aspects
of the meanings unleashed
People still describe me as
bubbly, perky, glowing
optimistic, hopeful, enthusiastic,
cheerful, delightful, a gem
when asked why?
"You so live up to your name!
so joyful, such a pearl."
When I married,
I made it worse
an unpronounceable collection
always tripped out with intrepidness
making me the only one
in the whole world
carrying this combination
of bungled adjectives.
easily located on the world wide net.
What's in a name?
Everything.
Ford
Prefect, not Harrison.
Not to keep you guessing,
I'm an alien who saves
Arthur Dent from the dying
Earth, being demolished
for a freeway vying
intergalacticly.
If it wasn't for me
there would be no
Guide to the Galaxy.
There would also be
no introduction to
Vogon poetry.
Smabash trigonmy
Slob du nashtiy poo.
Hope that's agreeable
to you but Vogans
have a knack
with a vowel or two.
By the way,
don't bother
saving the dolphins
they're smarter than you.
Son
Be careful what you name your children! Make sure their names mean calm or gift or joyful because I was tricked into naming my first born a Native American name that I thought was sweet.
OH HELL NO! His name means little warrior!
And he is!
Nykeao Mecoma
NICK-EYE-OH MEE-CO-MAH
His white name
Is Justin. I call him
SON.
[Name]
A name is a tragedy of the owners desires. It wants to scream into the world with a sore throat. A name contains so much of a single person but is thrown into personality quizzes from a mediocre website. Whats in a name? The world, the people, and their tears.
A name is not just a word
not just an arrangement of random letters
it is precious
A name spoken
conjuring an utterly unique soul
a soul with deep textured thoughts
horrible scars
a fire that refuses to go out
A name is not just a word
it is the label of something extraordinary
Said your name was dog
so you
spent five years
sniffing and begging.
Said your name is dog
so you
tipped over trashcans and
ate scraps from fine diners.
Said your name is dog
so you were
stray and
mangy. You
were alone and gray.
Said your name was dog.
Said you ain't got no name.
Said dog don't define you.
But it do, don't it, boy?
People is mirrors, see?
They know things by
what they call them.
When they ain't got a word
for what it is you are?
You don't exist.
Said your name was dog.
Said your name was cunt.
Said your name was dickhead.
People spoke you outside your name.
So you were outside yourself.
But I said, "Your name is William.
You is free."
Stuck
It
could be
anything-
Bark or
Felt.
Plentiful
Johns
old and
young
bowler-hatted
or
t-shirted
proliferate
as
Sons of man,
Anonymous
dead
or
Slut seeking
Nobodies.
Thriving
too,
throngs
of
indiscriminate
Debbies
viciously
frolicking
everywhere
from
PTAs to
phone books
to the
snack aisle.
Our
Logo-
preternaturally unique,
bestowed
upon Us
by
hormonal humans
worshipping
their golden calf
and
imprinting their quarry.
N A M E
Imagine this: you're at a crossroads. It's all foggy and blurred at the edges - signs of a dream sequence, perhaps. You choose a road. The left one. It's a dirt road, there are potholes, and at times you swear the road is indistinguishable from the gloom on either side of your path. Still, you carry on. You meet other people. Don't know how they got there? Neither do they. Still, you carry on. Up and up. When did this road become a hill? You're searching for something. Meaning. Or maybe food. At last, you arrive. It's kind of abrupt and there's lots of hullabaloo. They're calling you over to join them. It's a not-so-secret society called NAME, or Nascent Amalgamation of Meandering Existence.