Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Namings, callings

We bare our names the way we bare our faces
They become a feature
summarizing our beings in a few syllables
Some are named by their mother's desires
those that grew in umbilical cords
but were bigger than birthmarks like
like Claire to clarity,
and Esperanza to hope
Our names carry us on solid wagons, in time
and in nature; aurora and peach
Lilly, morning song and Gaias,
Ash to earth, earth to earth.
A few of us carry lordship and sainthood,
only in names and old prayer books
breaking off in miniature studded rosaries
like John/s, Michael/s and Christina/s
do they live up to angelic chants?
sometimes Jane/s, Alice/s, Emma/s and Fitzwilliam/s
fit better in novels and auto generators of fiction
known to millions, the names hide from their owners
in an unending childhood games of guesses.
In times when mothers are wrecked
from sweat beads, pain and long cries
the syllables come in halves:
Ra, Jo and Cal
Abe, Gil and Flo
Flow of thoughtless moments
but names are unique callings
for they are sharper than a few letters
they sink in meaning beyond limit
Take mine, a calling special
short and easy to say
I was named for a pious grandmother
Graceful, wise and simple
She prays
while I sit poised between empty bottles of Gin
and long nights of sin.

No comments:

Post a Comment