What's In A Name? - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 101: WHAT'S IN A NAME?

What’s in a name that heads turn at the mention of one,

other heads shake at the mention of another,

while heads bow at the mention of the other?

What’s in a name that causes a quiver in your body

or a smile to curl onto your lips

when the name of that gorgeous dame

or that of that gentleman rings in your heart?

What’s in a name that everyone cherish

lest it be tarnished?

What’s in a name that the newly born

must be tagged with one?

If not given one, will identity be lost?

What’s in a name that can make one stand out from the crowd

or make you lost in the masses like a grain of rice in a bag of sand?

What’s in a name that in every clime forms

a means of introduction?

What’s in a name?

I don't know what's in mine.

So let me introduce myself:

Ja(r)achi: that's my name.

I used to feel my name in harsh syllables

rooted in the language of Ndi Igbo and imported English

Jar or Jaa?

One’s a container

the other a worship verb;

like being boxed in jar

so I could offer my worship to Jah.

I lost my identity in the thin line of opposing religio-cultures.

‘Jaachi’ says the Igbo

But how can God I extol

when I’m boxed in a religious jar of another?

They mocked my Chi and his priests

Burnt down his shrines and gave us crosses

Took our Mgbeke and gave us Mary

Jar or Jaa, I don’t know what I am!

Lost and in darkness, they said I was

And like Moses with a magic rod

they thrust deep into my mode of worship

with subtle trades and a single warship

they took down our barns and announced I AM

but what's in a name I AM when we’ve lost our yam?

How burdensome,

How difficult,

to stand between two worlds

with no name for what I’ve become.

Never still. Tumultuous.

Swirling and dangling with a foreign name

In syllabus my forebears would chew tongues

just to say my name.

What’s in name

that could make me write a poem

I myself do not understand?

- Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends.

Thank you.

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

RIP: Return If Possible (Ode to my High School crush)

She would wink at me from the corner of her eyes. She would dare to slap the tallest in my class if he dares bully me for penning his name in my list of noise makers. She would share her pen when mine is spent. She would help me take notes when sick I lay in bed. She played my advocate even when I least deserve it. Her height, though intimidating earned more of my admiration. Her fingers Her palms though long and bold compared to my petite own were my favourite to hold. She was loud and noisy not never made the list. She would speak Igbo and wink 'you dare not write my name' Her drawings, I did when others I snub. JSS 3 to SSS 1 I crushed on this pretty girl But I was too shy to ink that poem. I left without letting you know how much I care. Had no time to appreciate your kind gestures undeserved defense... You were my crush. Augusta, When I found first Facebook you were the first I searched to add... In vain I searched You were not found. I stalked the walls of our cl...

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog