Name Shame
While in the womb,
and argument brewed:
my dad wanted Katie,
but my mom was a baron,
so, after my debut,
I ended up Karen.
To this day, dad calls me Katie.
It's a name with smile,
a genteel lady.
Throughout the years, I've taken on names
like KK at my childhood baseball games and
other names that stung like stones:
Kare-bear, Kerrn, and Karry-on,
but I didn't like any of those.
And once, I gave my name away,
after handwritten vows, a few signatures,
and slices of cheesecake.
But I learned the hard way that was a huge mistake,
and I had to fight for my name to reinstate.
Yes, names are more like lingerie,
they attract attention, but boy do they grate.
And over the years, I've been in awe of a few;
I've thrown away others,
novelty excitements, but easily through.
Looking back over the decades,
my names have been more like picture frames—
they never quite capture what they contain,
what's coated in resin, the part of me unchanged.
My impersonal self,
my very own divine,
cannot be contained
by a few cursive lines.
A rose by another name
may not be loved the same,
but it is not the measure
of what a life contains.
Oh, I've clung to my name like a life raft:
stated it fully, spelling it over and over and over again.
I've hidden it, too, it like a pimple,
that's never gone away.
I guess until you have one
that others find ugly,
worth bullying,
laughing at
or calling strange,
it's hard to explain
name shame.
©2026 | K.F. Hartless
Cover Art: “Shame” Max Klinger, 1903
https://youtu.be/tFGs7HP15d4?si=lVIAvu4S_HC_eK-E
GloPoWriMo#21: For today, we challenge you to write your own poem in which you muse on your name and nicknames you’ve been given or, if you like, the name and nicknames for an animal, plant, or place. It’s a poem assignment that has taken me away from my own fears of just being who I am. I guess the name Karen is here to stay.
#family #GloPoWrimo #humor #life #love #memory #napowrimo #Poetry #Reflection #selfLove #writing
