On Being April

Clandestine Writing







What’s in a name
that which we call a rose
Might only be
a dandelion in disguise
Ape Face
Opening buds of spring
April Fools
Bunnies and Springtime
Why are you a month
Were you born in April
<Yes I was born in April
The selfsame day
Shakespeare’s Birthday>
how dumb
Was your mother’s name February
<no, Ironically, June
but June after June Allison
the Actress
Not, you know, November>
what a stupid name

And sometimes teachers
can be
intentionally or not
undeniably cruel
in retrospect
Sometimes I wonder
if my bestie
who tagged me
with Ape
even liked me or not

For years it stung
kids, particularly, can be cruel
added epithets
for years
I lived for nothing
but the day
when I could change it

And I grew
to understand
and to understand
to rise to the challenge
April is
a treasure
starting anew
fresh cut grass
fresh perspective
fresh and cheeky

I step into my name
April Joy
I slide my arms
into short pink sleeves
of my name
of who I am
of who I have become
and take off
at a run
into my day
my life
my reality

Join me if you wish
Rose or dandelion
dandelion I chose
for you can find me
in the darndest
of places



********************** From the Prompt **********************************

posted 2.17.15
This week, write a poem about your name. When you were born, you were given a name before beginning to develop a sense of self. Have you grown into your name, or have you always resisted it? Knowing who you are today, where you’ve come from, and where you see yourself going, would you choose a different name for yourself?

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