“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Gene-us species
If the majority of people
you meet
misspell your name,
are you required to assume
that alias as yours (truly)
and claim it thusly-in spite
of the misnomer moniker it may be?
If I discovered post facto,
or say, hypothetically, a friend like me
learned their own last name,
denoting origin,
the one they thought was (a) given-
had ex-ante been but taken
for granted as a
charitable donation
and was in-factually, inherently,
a miss-ambiguation,
how can one conclude
where I,
I mean they, are coming from?
And then in the murky middle
floats a little note
of a single syllabic stress
to appease
simp-lee
the soundest
advice-
Yes.
Free to choose
any one that suits, so
call me what you will,
I will be namely unknown.
Image of painting by Pieter Brueghel the Younger, 1621[Public domain], the Village Lawyer, via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Half-dozen Mud cakes
Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
I have served between eight and twenty-five thousand meals for my family, I make coffee for them more than once per day, equatin...
-
Lies About Love by D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) We are all liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, wherea...
No comments:
Post a Comment