Lake Ontario
great lake
beautiful lake
in Huron Wyandot
Ontarí’io
names but thunder
they merely rumble
intentions that echo
lake of shining waters
beautiful water
in Iroquois Mohawk
Oniatari:io
names are how we honour
reflecting our own light
our little wave
our tide our turn
to appreciate this life
pink haired girl with the glitzy blue eyes
she zips through the jungle as the glow flies
I know her heart, she is good and wise
Drew her myself, she wears no disguise
I have not named her yet, it’s coming to me
She has a trim waist, pigtails too, I see
A jungle jane, she is full of humility
Placed her into a world of green fantasy
I shall call her Murial, it suits her fine
Enjoyed drawing her up with many a curvy line
Her legs show her flexibility;, she is not one to whine
I enjoy her company on the wall as I sip and dine
Much serious thought should be given
to the naming of them,
for would we call a Byzantine Emperor
Tiddles, Blackie or Patches,
would we name an Egyptian Pharaoh,
Ginger, Tiger, Tom, or Peanut?
Cats are royalty, no less noble
than the Great Charlemagne -
and they know it.
So, for God's sake choose wisely
and get them neutered,
for no one wants
a pissed off Caligula
in their humble home.
naming baby
never easy
difficult to choose one name
many others want to help
butting in when not needed
suggesting names you would never use
Daisy Lily Tulip Julep?
Muffin Scone Apple Banana Cornbread?
Mike Milton, Mannie, Maximillion?
A name is finally agreed upon
But it does not seem to fit this baby.
You leave the hospital with a name you thought of six minutes ago.
A vegetable, when it is hot,
is called a pepper, is it not?
And we must remember,
a cool one's a cucumber.
Nothing
cannot be named
but the naming
of something
may seem
good enough~~~
A young couple next door just had a new girl,
They looked at me for ideas so I gave it a whirl.
Since she’s a gem,
I’d name her Kim,
Both quickly replied that our Gem will be Pearl.
They all died
The lying died
Inside of her mind
I travel
Peeled rays of sunlight
A distant eclipse
The whale had
Executed it’s reasons
Casketing denial
Of flight
Thundering clap
Of freedom
Dismembermenting
And shear
Outfleshing law
And principle
To the news of breaching
She hid in forfeits plans
Filling your time
Plan
Plans against you explore
Laughter
The cosmic guess
None of witch
And only design
Never
Today perhaps a chore
Fast of hinge
Consequence of entry
Always the return of cold
Mysterious shape
Hidden tongues and story
Explain before it ends
All of me hidden beneath your creators fraud
Horrid love, royal failure with riddle
Silk woven princess notes
Listless ember, putrid coal
Resend your thoughts
Chained casket of jewels
Why are you not colored
Ashed powder considers more
Run, away forbidden suprise
Bluebird, Lilac, Little Dove
Nicknames for someone beloved
She knows of whom I speak about
She knows it's her, without a doubt
And I'll admit indeed it is
That someday too I plan for this
Her name tattooed within a vine
Her name displayed in grand design
If you hailed from South Dakota,
And someone asked you, "Where you from?"
You wouldn’t simply say, “Uh, Dakota.”
And if you grew up in the hills of West Virginia,
You’d never be inclined to just reply, “Oh, I’m from Virginia.”
But if your mind is going to Carolina,
And you knew James Taylor’s home address,
It doesn’t matter whether North or South,
You’ll navigate your way by GPS.
The sing-song chatter of small birds
frame a window of light.
My kettle is coughing; soon its shrill whistle
will startle me, even though I know exactly
when it will erupt.
Bears have been sighted in Ohio.
Elsewhere, the plague has been seen
crossing rivers on a jet ski.
The birds sing something from ‘The Magic Flute.’
or Bohemian Rhapsody – hard to tell.
Far from my kitchen
tunes bring tears to the eyes
of truckers and nurses.
I imagine pelicans hitching a ride to Patagonia.
A homeless family have reported blue skies
in Kentucky, somehow, that’s news.
Death rattles, all things pass away singing
a tune inside their heads.
Often a parent cannot know
What seeds of anguish they do sow
When a name on offspring they bestow
Teased by army pals whilst abroad
Oscar ,became Claude !
This soldier, painter ,who changed his name,
Later found world-wide fame;
So if you find an Oscar Monet, today
Keep it safe,don't throw it away !
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009
The name of a baby is an important decision
Easy to pronounce or a lifetime of derision ?
Let us take for example Mr and Mrs Power
Decided the name of their son in about a hour
Max Power was born and a footballer he became
Suppose he would have to be with that name
Then of course there is Mr and Mrs Banks
A son was born they gave to God their thanks
Robin Banks they named their only child
I'm sure it made his mates happy and wild
Girls are not exempt from this naming exercise
Try the name given as Lily Pond for size
I think my favourite name has certainly to be
It will make you smile some might not agree
Mr and Mrs Waite had a son the other day
Willie Waite is the name so my friends say
In his school years
he was good at naming things.
Trees, minerals, the anatomy of rabbits,
butterflies and all things
he saw or imagined he saw.
Later…much later,
He realized he knew nothing of anything
that walked the earth or grew upon it
or flew above it.
Later still, his internal organs
began to name him. Bushes and flowers
named him as he walked by.
Birds called out his various names,
his species and sub-species,
the Latin nomenclature,
the exactness of his being.
He heard all this naming
through an open window in his head
that could not stop reflecting thoughts
back to him.
As most seekers do
he sought the advice of a guru.
“Your mother did not love you
not just the way you wanted her to love you,
and so you had to name
all that she was not.
“What!’ he said,
is that your only answer!
“I could name a thousand more,”
the guru replied,
“but you have already named them,
and so they in turn named you.
Now you are caught,
pinned like a moth to a display board…
go now and un-name yourself!”
He thanked the guru,
hesitated,
then foolishly he asked the wise man -
for his name?
Don’t be melodramatic, Mama Witch said.
Don’t want to take curmudgeon with you to bed.
Little Witch smelled honeysuckle of her Uncle Ted.
It came incrementally as beddy bye book was read.
You’re the kingpin of your life, said her cousin Zed.
She loved it when these spirits came into her head.
Next morning Mama Witch asked “Ready for a moped?”
Why not? Worst scenario she would end up dead.
Which actually meant she would be with Grandpa Ned.
Along with Uncle Ted, Cousin Zed and Auntie Fred.
Little Witch felt glad mama had not followed family tread,
And had named her Little Witch instead of Med or Lead or Shed.
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