POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.


Before we begin, Marie and I would like to wish every mother out there a very

Happy Mother’s Day!

All you incredible women who are both life giving and nurturing, make everything possible. Your dedication to your families is unwavering and much appreciated.

I offer an extra nod to Marie , just because I can. My mom will have been gone for 27 years this Christmas and I know how hard she struggled to give us a good life. You all do such a hard job without so much as a thank you. So, let me say, “Thank you, Mom” to each Mother today.


And now…

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

~Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

The Bard had it right. What is in a name? You’re about to find out.

In the process of writing this poem, you are asked to go to


Place your full name in the search box. Then use ONLY the resulting words or phrases found in the letters of your name in constructing your poem.

This technique was used for the NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 24  prompt.

You will find that what’s in a name makes for some interesting poetry!


Drat!  Mine went missing somehow, and so I just now quickly wrote a different one.  Try writing with no “S,” no “T,” and no “H!”  Yikes!  I must also write a disclaimer:  I mean no disrespect to our fine gentleman poet, Earl Parsons. Just couldn’t resist writing of old Meanie Earl. 😉 

Walt, thank you so very much for the kind thoughts.  I know you, my Keith, and so many others miss your moms terribly.  I could not be more thankful for mine.

Ode to Meanie Earl

 Meanie Earl made me “oar”
More and more and more and more!
Meanie Earl, I do agree
I am, I am a leaner me!

© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013

Oh – and that “leaner me” bit?  Don’t believe it for a second.  Sheer poetic fantasy! 😉



John Joseph was seen near the twin towers
when last he spoke to the waiter.
Ratlike he walks; there is her ink
on his inept heart. The town’s newest thespian
was shaken; the weakest titan worn,
they let these jerks rejoin the war.
What’s a joker to think?
No network wrote their tales,
Joseph the janitor takes a slow sweep
and the rest join in his trek to the top.
He wasn’t the one to stop, shake, joke or jest.
This poet knelt in pain,
he was written to his knees.
There were no pleas spoken.

© Copyright Walter Joseph Wojtanik – 2013

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199 thoughts on “WHAT’S IN A NAME? – PROMPT #107

  1. Walt, there are so many letters in your name! Nice! Mine kind of formed a bunch of disjointed words. 😉


    In her
    Open eye,

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  2. Walt – I love it! Erin, that’s really lovely.

  3. I tried for my full name first (given, middle, maiden and married) but the list contained ‘carjacked’ and ‘crackhead’ far too many times! So, I just shorted the entry to my given and married last name, and got a few nice suggestions.

    First, a senryu/haiku:

    Found a car nerd link:
    It is ‘thecarnerddotcom’ …
    Must show my husband.

    (a car nerd link)


    and second, a pensee:

    Ink runs,
    it runs from birth
    and fills the pages of books
    I write in my mind…and put on
    paper waiting for me.

    (cradle runs ink)


    Happy Mother’s Day!

  4. Sir Walt, I must say that your poem’s a real stunner! Why should it not surprise me that you discovered within your name, “This poet knelt in pain, he was written to his knees.” Wow.

    Marie Elena

  5. Epicenter

    Poet opts to pen terse tones.

    Sonnet open to set serene sleeper
    to enter one neon spot.

    Pertinence, noise, ire eclipse precise role.
    Lone person repels serpent.


  6. In my name are 1500 plus anagrams.
    Most of them don’t make sense,
    so I decline to enter the caucus race
    I prefer puns instead.to safe face.

  7. Hi and Happy Mothers’ Day!
    This is a fun prompt, reminds me of my school days, we used to play this quite a bit. I was a little intimidated by the anagram finder, so I just wrote “Alexandra Palmer” on a piece of paper to see what words I might come up with. This is my first attempt:

    Me –
    A palm.
    Red land,
    End –

  8. sheryl kay oder on said:

    Oh, my goodness! there are over 5000 anagrams for my name. if I can take time I can play with some of them which make sense. Happy Mother’s Day to the mother’s. I am spending a lot of time with my mother as she keeps taking physical therapy. One day we may have a life again.

  9. Earl Peter Parsons
    (Note: When I put in my real middle name, James, all kinds of weird things popped up, so I replaced it with my given childhood nickname, Peter, and was much happier with the results)


    Terror spears Easterners
    Narrators report plots
    Reasoners pose reasons
    Press repeats treasons
    Appeasers report errors
    Errors entrap appeasers
    Snares snarl serpents
    Easterners rest

  10. This was much more difficult than I imagined, proving of course that there are some strange folks living in my name. Happy Mother’s Day, dear friends!

    Has Jenny Elks

    Has Jenny Elks? the boys inquire,
    their sing-song questioning her name.
    Simple but odd, it strangely fires
    an often vexing taunting game.

    Jenny stares as if they’re sheep
    too stupid to know when to run.
    But should she answer, they would reap
    more information but no fun.

    Has Jenny Elks? she has indeed—
    a herd that grazes headed south
    across the meadow, where they feed
    smoothing the prairie with their mouths.

    The little boys don’t know a thing
    about herds moving as one beast,
    the slightest instinct measuring
    communal life at nature’s feast.

    Jenny Elks sits on a rise
    counting the calves and wolves that wait.
    She knows pups live if a calf dies;
    cycles of life can educate.

    She ignores foolish boys who shout.
    She bares her teeth, a gentle growl
    curled in her throat, thinking about
    the chase, the kill, and then the howl.

  11. claudsy on said:

    Okay, I admit it. I got carried away with so many anagrams to choose from. I chose to do an short epic poem that told a story. I hope you all enjoy it.

    Legacy Tuned Out

    In the long ago
    A teacher came
    To educate Lug Tony;
    Whose gay uncle touted
    a coy legend, tutu in hand, but
    a decent guy, lout not at all.
    He put forth a challenge
    The teacher could not refuse.

    Uncle threw down a crimson velvet
    gauntlet, coy due to teacher’s fine face;
    acutely tongued, Uncle said he had
    located Tune Guy, musical genius
    extraordinaire, to create a legacy
    duet unto the people of his land.
    Palaces and castles ordered
    The world and nobility ruled it.

    Uncle wanted his nephew to learn
    the dance lute, gouty though it might be;
    this a judgment in ducal tongue,
    yet teacher took time to press for
    particulars on his new student’s problem
    when the lad arrived caged, unduly toted.
    Wild-eyed and slavering, barking as
    Would hounds to the huntsman’s horn.

    “Ah, reluctant to learn a skill.”
    Tune Guy stepped forward, bowing
    Before he explained the situation.
    “We have his lute acutely tuned. Go
    To him and begin quickly, that I
    May begin my Lunacy Etude. Got
    To have it completed before the
    Festival in a fortnight’s time.”

    “We wish it to be the people’s
    Official Gale County Duet,”
    Uncle burbled, his eyes gleaming.
    “We were given one word by your
    agent—dulcet. You may begin
    To sooth this beast, give him
    Lute skill and grace for all.
    You have little time to spare.”

    Teacher gulped chagrin like
    Fine wine and looked at his
    Unkempt, feral pupil and imaged
    A most unkind fate to come;
    Future’s portrayal would paint
    His new cadet lute, young
    Lug Tony, as providing
    Teacher’s final musical work,

  12. Pingback: Sunday Poetry and Anagrams | Two Voices, One Song

  13. DebiSwim on said:

    I have no idea what this is. Maybe just a hot mess but it’s what popped into my head.

    Swami Binned (Debi Ann Swim)

    When I was young,
    back in the 60’s,
    the Beatles and others
    went all psychedelic,
    TM and such.
    Caught up in the mood
    but being from a small town
    where the most common form
    of contemplating your navel
    came from a still – white lightening,
    and being southern Baptist
    allowed only Welch’s grape juice
    I didn’t expect to ever be “enlightened.”
    But, lo and behold, in a town not far way
    Swami Binned was featured at the Bijou.
    I went to see what it was all about
    but the local ministerial cooperation (a
    misnomer if ever there was) picketed
    at the entrance, and as luck would have it
    our very own Deacon White was right in front
    and no way could I slip in past him.
    Well, I happened to see the great Swami
    sitting in his car in the alley behind the theatre
    and ran up to glean some wisdom from his lips.
    Oh, great Swami, can you tell me what life is all about?
    Expecting a formal, sing songy, voice
    and prayer hands at the chin
    and slight bow of the head
    I got instead a peace sign and a far out, man
    and some weed a’blowin in the wind.

  14. This prompt sounds like the Aragman, a form I invented in 2005. Here is my name version:


    A slaver to
    the labor of wordplay
    A travel so
    vicariously thrilling
    A vast lore
    from which to dabble
    Atlas over
    a hefting of strong words
    A rave slot
    machine to pull down poems
    Area volts
    zapped in poetic lines
    Tear salvo
    from the broken-hearted
    Tears oval
    and wet flow down faces
    Alas, voter!
    it’s time to add your name to
    Art as love


  15. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    OM Goodness… there are over 71,000 for Henrietta Katie Choplin… so I won’t even attempt to insert my maiden name… this will take a while… 🙂 !

  16. Pingback: Night Shift | Metaphors and Smiles

  17. Walt and Marie, both your poems were great, but Walt’s was astoundingly long. Also, I had to use my birth name, as “Liberatore” threatened to blow an anagramical circuit!

    I think my mom would be proud of this poem, because she was just as rowdy as I am. Happy Mother’s Day, y’all!

    All in My Name
    (Amy Louise Barlow)

    I’m a bluesy limbo mouse
    Alias, lousy bellow yowl

    Bosomy ruby allure, yum
    My morals: slim, wily, muley

    © 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

  18. This is the silliest thing I have ever written!


    A calm sun may rust
    crystal clams. Ma lays
    salty rum mats of cyan.
    Many clans try yam murals.

  19. Pingback: Mama, Mommy, Mom plus Silly Strung Words | Sharp Little Pencil - Amy Barlow Liberatore

  20. For those of you who kindly considered my earlier poem fantastic, let it be said that I failed to follow the instructions. Oops. Color me a jerk, an ass, and other irreverent beasts roaming around in my name.

    Craven Verse

    A cranny shelves a jar, a sky,
    kernels and hens, envy’s eye.
    Channels can reach a cavern’s stars;
    an arch can kneel, a slave can scar.

    Verses serve larks, ravens, jerks,
    hackers, slackers, knaves, clerks.
    Jack and Jenny crane and jeer—
    an ass has ears; she never hears.

  21. Earl James Parsons
    Back for another attempt. This time I put James back in and set the settings for candidate words. Here goes:


    Reason ransoms reason
    Pen pens poems
    Personal responses leap
    Prose presses psalms
    Solemn reason
    Open ears
    No more remorse
    No more alarm
    No more snares
    No more alone

  22. Marjory MT on said:

    Marjory Marie Thompson =

    I hope I did this right, did not use phrases supplies, just words made from the available letters.

    Tom’s son Thomas,
    promos sham story promise
    to shy, nymph Rosy.

    “Host to honor troops
    at posh “Harp an’ Hats” prom.”
    Rosy to join in.

    Prom’s harmony morphs
    to nosy romp that soon tromps
    north to moon-shot marsh.

    Not a moron sop,
    nor set to spoon at moor hop,
    Rosy, to home jots.

  23. Choose (a Piku)

    A pen, pear,
    A peony.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope

  24. William Preston on said:


    Two imps
    on two pillows
    romp in a primal prowl:
    not still; no stops; no morals till
    one wilts.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  25. The site did not like my name – too long – in the end it gave me over a million!!! I took 1000 and played with the words as the phrases were, by and large useless.

    Opium Den Galas

    A plaid mouse king
    laid pigeon musk on
    languid Mike.
    Mules sang,
    like a smog simile,
    a Mikado plunges
    in iguana lidos.
    Emus laud as I go in,
    a maid lounges, kips
    amid unpaid kegs.
    A media plug –SKI ON!
    as audio signals align
    and loping pigs
    paid lien
    in unsaid gaol.
    Slaked moles, puking on mead soaked
    gin oiling lads;
    amused, Pike smokes opium
    and pokes some semi lupine punk.
    Dames musing, sulking
    liken limes and imps
    loading skips.
    Old lags goad Sue as
    an unmasked mogul
    moaned a glum aside.
    A glad, smug monk spoke:
    Adieu Mink!
    Adios Elk!


  26. The Passing of a Viking

    Haled hard boned old man, a lone nod
    on honed elm, no drab hole on a broad helm.
    Hero o’ home, an olden end, born o’nor realm
    and had lo a noble end. On morn dream,
    bend alder a bed and laden named herb,
    adorn embered on helm. Her blond
    noble horned nomad, her hero o’nor,
    her one man, her hand, alone.

    [process notes: these are anagrammed words generated from my surname “Braendeholm”]

  27. Pingback: The Passing of a Viking | Misky

  28. William Preston on said:


    A mellow
    in a warm will.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  29. Here’s another try (I added my patronymic name this time: Andreevna.)

    Never pleaded
    Mere ave, ax, deer ran, red land
    Palm read and reread
    Deep need
    All end?

  30. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    (I can’t Believe it… out of all of those thousands of words, which I didn’t even come close to getting through… THIS is what came from Who Knows Where!)

    Sunday’s Old-fashioned Notions

    A tea kettle on, warmly lit
    Chimes tinkle
    a song
    “…always something there
    to remind

    (words: a, kettle, lit, on, tea, there, tinkle, to)

  31. sheryl kay oder on said:

    I wish the word slain were in my name, but I did find slayed in the dictionary. It will have to do. This is a silly snippet, but at least I did it.

    Yes, So Sad.

    Yo, yokel,
    hokey hero,
    sad elk herald.

    Slayed? So sorry.
    Yes, so sad.

  32. Brainy Bard Menace

    In a mildly rabid bardic era
    behind bleary-eyed, brainy bard menace,
    meaner acidly ribald badmen ambled nearby.
    Hear candy-laden airhead lecher rain bedlam.
    Hear airy crab head nerd belch brayed aria.
    Cheer manic medley by endemic rebel alliance.
    Embrace eerily icy charm by madly carnal cadre.
    Can all yield admirably cad cry by
    ideally credible lamebrain balladeer?

    Anagram Poem by ~ Randy Michael Bell ~ 2013

  33. Pingback: WHAT’S IN A NAME? – PROMPT #107 | cloudfactor5

  34. I’ve written my previous attempt, and perhaps it’s now easier to read. Maybe?


    Haled hard boned old man,
    a lone nod on honed elm,
    no drab hole on a broad helm.
    Hero o’ home,
    an olden end,
    born o’nor realm
    and had lo a noble end.

    On morn a dream,
    bend alder a bed
    and laden named herb,
    adorn embered on helm.

    Her blond noble nomad,
    her horned hero o’nor,
    her one man,
    her hand,

    • This was a tough one for me to grasp, and I had to come back to it a third time. Apparently three’s a charm, because now I find it deep and touching. Excellent, Misk.

      Marie Elena

  35. Well, desperate for some letters, I made use of my first, last, patronymic, maiden names, as well as different variants of spelling 🙂
    Aleksandra Andreyevna Abrioutina Palmer

    Do not
    leave yet
    take my soul
    read me like a map
    unravel me like a reel
    let us step into our love
    same love
    like into a river
    one more time
    let us bend
    all rules

    it is vast
    our love
    it runs like years
    it never turns old
    let our love take us in
    it is ever kind
    do not dread to die
    let us be one
    till it is time
    to part.

  36. A PLEA

    Maker ~
    awaken me
    make me new

    P. Wanken

    (ok, this was hard!)

    • What an excellent job you did with so few letters!

      Marie Elena

      • Thanks — my name doesn’t have “t” or “s” or “d” — sheesh! And…the little anagram tool didn’t like my whole name. I had to do first/last, first/middle, and middle/last to see what words I could come up with. And of course, nothing could be plural or in the past tense! Arg. 😉 But…I chose the words that jumped out at me and had myself a theme. ❤

  37. Pingback: A Plea | echoes from the silence

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