Poopey PooPoo
My grandmother,
Was not into calling her children
By nicknames.
In fact she once said to my sister...
'I gave my children the names they have!
Each was given with a special meaning.
To identify and dignify that which has been given.'
I often wondered...
Had my sister and I been,
The only ones listening?
With comprehension?
Over the years...
It just appears that way!
Today...
Grown folks are known better by their nicknames.
Than those names given.
Poopey PooPoo. BeBop. Slice and Dice...
BooBoo and Drooper!
What 'energies' have they called upon themselves?
And their children have no idea who their parents are.
Their real names.
Or their purposes.
I remembered when I began calling myself Lawrence...
My birth name.
Lawrence, Junior in fact.
Named after my father.
We were both called Larry at one time.
I decided I would become Lawrence S.
After discovering on my father's birth certificate,
His name was listed as Lawrence A.
And I wanted to be 'AS' much as Lawrence as possible!
Can you guess...
I am between poeticness.
As I share a bit of 'personal-ness'.
Folks got upset!
Guess who smiled?
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar.
She was very strong and dynamic.
She was pleased to know I was daring!
And the leaves upon the trees,
Begin to bloom in Spring.
As I reminisce those things I miss.
Taking trips back through time.
Those things impressed upon my mind.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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