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Cure for neuroses
My thinking, sick
and sorry all day,
cleared at night.
Tell me my name
and put me
out of mind.
Poemas sobre el tema: name
Poemas sobre el tema «name» en Poets.by.
* * *
yellow-bellied sapsucker
tapping
its true name
The Hollow (48)
half underground
as it joins the river
Plummer’s Hollow Run
Little Juniata
the name alone
is a river
no road sign
it’s not easy to find
the middle of nowhere
coda
self-check
a black-legged tick
burrowed in
The Hollow (40)
wood nettles
that angry guy who hacked at them
with his hatchet
becoming the place
of my fisher sighting
foamflower patch
the long moment
after it vanished
fishing for its name
wilder hills
and deeper hollows
the fisher’s undulating gait
The Hollow (25)
leaning
this way or that
forest-dwelling goldenrod
not a mere patch
but a stand
the black cohosh
fairy bells
berried
under their leaves
naked-flowered tick trefoil
“leaflets three” but only
the name itches
Who Am I?
A lost girl who can't find her way home?
A small girl crushed by words?
A strong emotionless woman who let's no one near her heart?
A strong girl who rips away the pain with blood and tears?
Am I Seran?
Am I Sevar?
Am I Sabrina?
Am I Casanna?
In the end
I'm all of them
Put into one small girl
But am I really all of them?
Or just one of them?
If so, which one am I?
Or am I someone else?
I don't know who I am?
Signature
My name is blue paint, cracked, peeling
I know all too well - that fickle feeling
and all the cracks on that musty ceiling.
My name is echoes of a time gone by
I can't ignore, though I may try
-shadows that might never die.
My name is silence, empty, fleeting
broken only by muffled eating
and sagging in that eternal seating.
My name is lost, forgotten, old
and really would rather not be told
lest it remind of that rotten hold.
My name is breathing, heavy, strained
-an unsettled joy now forever stained
by feelings that have since remained.
My name is hunger, hatred, unrefined
Designation
What's in a person's name,
past it being theirs to own
and to notify of a neighbor's call?
What binds it to us - past remembrance
and the need to write to identify?
Why should we use these names
that hold nothing for us
past a label applied by other labels?
Why should I keep this name
that is tied to nothing but myself;
nothing but a haggard child
with eyes and smile both tired and aching
in a dimly-lit room I often forget?
Why, indeed.
After Gertrude After Bob Tomaz Maruska After Francie
who they are to me
what you are
and whether i feel
will feel go on feeling
without knowing after you
are gone i am sad very sad
at your going.
these are not old nouns or new nouns shedding
but no nouns unknowing nouns
going and am i recreating
the unknowing the going of them
you leaving by saying how sad
i am not showing even what
this sadness is because not knowing
not able to know nouns going.
displacing what i am recalling
Name
My name?
My name?!
That's not it!
You're wrong,
That's wrong!
I'm telling you, that's really not it!
Don't you listen?
You won't listen!!
I'm telling you please,
Please just listen,
My name is Ronan
The Form
She told me to sign the form
but the name just wouldn’t
come out. From the tip of my pen
my own name simply refused
to be written. I kept wondering
what the hell was wrong with me,
asked for more paper, tried
again and again, but the letters
wouldn’t form the correct structure.
I wrote JOHN
instead of JOSHUA.
John is my dad’s name.
My dad’s. Not mine.
She gave me new paper.
Said I still had time.
Blacklisted
Why shall I keep the old name?
What is a name anywhere anyway?
A name is a cheap thing all fathers and mothers leave each child:
A job is a job and I want to live, so
Why does God Almighty or anybody else care whether
I take a new name to go by ?