Many names I have carried,

sometimes in burden, often

in indifference, hatred, spoken

in anger and the eye soaked

in blood, a few times my name

has, surprisingly, carried warmth, pride,

the feeling of recognition and despite

it all, one in which I cling to,

finger nails clawing at the driven old by time rocks

and smashed by heaving water,

I retain my name, e, simple, easy to remember,

My promise to myself

when I hear it that I shall live-up

to all honour I believe, I hope, I possess,

to Ian, my name, three letters long

and given to me, one that still people get wrong,

I have been called son, dad, father, mistake,

ugly, a good boyfriend, a lousy shit,

a waste of a man, a decent husband,

a great friend, a bitter enemy, inferior,

second-rate, third rate, no place at all

for the likes of you, awful man, liar,

Uncle, Godfather, Godfather, Godfather,

Best Man, though I argued I am often neither,

honest, savage, noble, weird, boring, stupid,

insane, once beautiful, fat, gross, painfully thin, Grandson,

a memory, a smile and a disappointment,

a great and fabulous drunk, a flirt, a pain in the arse,

good for a pound, terrible with money,

I have been named as mediocre, unexceptional,

pedestrian, a blight, a stain, a cunt, unworthy,

I have been named as cool, boss, reliable,

the one to have in a fight, the one you

don’t want to piss off, poet, writer,

nothing…

now it seems there is a new name on the horizon,

one that I cannot hope to stand up to, I cannot

compute in my head just how I will

manage the task of living up to a word

that my own Granddad proudly wore,

straight back, tales to tell, stories to pass on;

I am far from ever being a man of such stature.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018