Cartouche

My name means “Crown” in a foreign tongue

though I doubt my parents knew it,

or that they hoped one day to

witness my Coronation, but I might have been

De-tan-a-ma-ka (He Who

Stands Alone With His Gun) or

Ahmose (The Moon Is Born).

 

My sister was Mukantagara

(Born During War) but remains plain Cathy;

my daughter could be

Piotopowaka (Bird Who

Came Home) but is content with

Battle-Maiden, though her battle is

with health; perhaps I should be glad

my wife is not Coth-co-co-na

(Cutting Off Head Woman), though

sometimes it’s a close call when I am

Cutapuis (Doesn’t Talk).

 

Perhaps we should all choose another name,

something to describe ourselves in all our

glory, folly, love, hate, madness; in all the

richness of our successes and failures; in all the

dripping excess of our humanity;

something to sum us up like a

cartouche chiselled into a sun-baked tomb.

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Comments

  • beverleyacourt  On July 30, 2014 at 7:17 pm

    really enjoyed this …. inspired lots of name play

    • fridayam  On July 30, 2014 at 9:15 pm

      I’m glad you enjoyed 🙂 Explore further xx

    • fridayam  On August 1, 2014 at 7:31 pm

      I’m glad you liked it 🙂 I hope you will read more x

  • Pleasant Street  On December 23, 2017 at 1:37 am

    I’ll be back to read this one again. There is so much here

    • fridayam  On December 23, 2017 at 9:25 pm

      Thank you, dear lady, and I hope you will get in touch again. A Happy Christmas to you x

      • Pleasant Street  On December 24, 2017 at 12:15 am

        I thought that’s what I was doing, getting in touch. I read and left you a message

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