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A Nov 2017
What is a name?
Is it a species, a link,
Something to tell us all about something?

And what is a face?
We make faces for everything,
From courage to beauty.

For us,
Captain America is courage,
Or Theodore Roosevelt,
Our mothers,
Fathers,
Sisters, family, friends.

We have names and faces for beauty as well,
Like someone who has always kept fighting,
Or Wonder Woman,
Or a favorite actor or singer,
And beauty is personified.

And what am I in this?

I am not beauty, or grace, or anything else.
I am just me, and I have a name.
But my name to me is the name I wear,
And I'll forever be known by
That fateful, eternal, unbreakable-

Name.
Lexi Nov 2017
My days have no name.
People call them:
Monday,
Tuesday,
Wednesday;
But mine are all the same.
How do you tell the days apart when they all seem identical through the window pane?
Never leave your room, wake up to the sun going down, go to sleep to the sun rising then do it all again.
Star BG Nov 2017
Our names
are like poetry sweet,
                                 so divine,
                                                      so complete.

Our names
make birds sing sweet
                               as they tweet,
                                                  songs on street.

Our names
are a lyrical melody,
                        as we fly free
                                               in harmony.
Celebrate your inner self because everyone is a gift. And though we are more than our names since we are eternal and sacred it helps to appreciate all of you.
Inspired by Cynthia Henon
inside the world wide poetry house
dwells a fellow of many a name
using trickery that's far from grouse

we're no fools we're onto the game
every piece resembling one type*
dwells a fellow of many a name

why seek all the available hype
it's because he's needful of glory
every piece resembling one type

an insignificance lies in his story
hence the pens looking to be seen
it's because he's needful of glory

being noticed on the verse's screen
by posting under counterfeit notes
hence the pens looking to be seen

we're familiar with his manifold votes
by posting under counterfeit notes
inside the world wide poetry house
*using trickery that's far from grouse
Zero Nine Oct 2017
There was a time you'd find
its untidy nest at the top of the lot
in the front room of apartment zero nine

Then, miles down time's treadmill
the creature first took notice, took a look
at its surroundings said,

"My world's color could be described as, and called, shame."

It split itself in half
The legs grew a head
The torso grew wings

While the grounded body kept vigil,
kept the common company
of rapists, liars, and thieves,
the winged being pushed off the Earth,
never to return to shame
as an ape with one short face,
but as a thing with a thousand names.
wat
Maria Etre May 2017
It slapped me
so hard
that it shook
the darkness
out of my sadness
and the apathy
out of my routine

It slapped me
so hard
that it awoke me
from my nightmares
and took me to daydreams
that float outside my
window fabricating
fantasies only to
entertain my
mind on a boring
afternoon
raingirlpoet May 2017
My name is something I keep around like old trophies from youth competitions or scrapbooks of memories from a better time. It is a reminder and a bittersweet one of that of a thing I cannot change. I never liked my names. I wondered why my parents decided to drop the second half of my Korean name for the sake of 100% inclusion. Is nothing sacred? I wonder if they knew that by doing that, they stripped me of my origins. I despise my name. I despise the projection and enforcement of family it relays. How far are you willing to go to make sure the kid knows they are yours? Hell, make it into a ******* name that will follow them around for the entirety of their life. The fact that it’s so beautiful will offset the pain of hearing it butchered so many times, will offset the pain of hearing what isn’t mine, will offset the nullity I have come to feel every time I hear it. My name is a prison number of conformity.
angry rambles
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