Tag Archives: #Names


My wedding ring was buried in the sand for days;

and the sweet sound of Bhangra emerged from a deep malaise

like deja news.

Anne Haiku

I am Anne Haiku;

that is my birth name, you know –

I never married.

Stupid Cupid?

You’re not stupid,

you’re silly;

you’re not Cupid,

your name is Willie;

your mother called you that,

because your mother she was strange;

and if you want to change your name,

why not change it to something sensible,

something less reprehensible:

George – what can you possibly do with George?

Anyway, silly Willy, don’t pretend to be a stupid Cupid.

“Mr. Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Third!”

“Mr. Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Third! “Mr. Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Third!”

“What is it, woman?”

“It’s your son, “Mr. Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Third!”

“What, Robert Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Fourth?”

“No. Your other son!”

“What. Anthony Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Unnumbered?”

“Yes – the very same.”

“What has happened to my other son, Anthony Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives the Unnumbered?”

“He’s sprained his wrist signing a cheque.”

“Ah, the old Gilicuddy-Languish Throckmorton-Thives curse has struck again.”

I used to be a Graham

I used to be a Graham

but I had to change my name

and, now, I am a Graeme

which sounds almost the same.

‘Phil’ – a work in progress (any comments would be gratefully received). G:)


Normally, if somebody is called ‘Phil’, their name is Philip (for a man) or Phyllis, Felicity, Philippa (for a woman), but Phil was different; she was named after her surname, which was Stamp – Stamp, Stamp-Collector, Philatelist, and so it got to Phil). This probably says more about Phil’s friends than it does about Phil herself.

Time changes things, Phil married an Astronaut, taking his name and becoming Mrs. Astronaut, in a short-lived marriage where her husband literally disappeared off of the face of the Earth – he’s probably orbiting Neptune by now – and Stamp, left behind, was no longer a part of the current name equation. ‘I am Anne Astronaut.’ although great as an ice- breaker (not Anne Ice-Breaker, that would be silly) was not actually physically true.

Anne, for that was Phil’s real name – as you might have gathered – now answered to Phil, occasionally Anne, or even Major Tom (some people are absolute comedians, in their own minds).

For the purposes of smoothness of this narrative, we shall stick to ‘Phil’ as an epithet.


“Hi, diddly dee, a Sandford’s life for me.”

“I am a Sandford”

I am a Sandford

not a Landlord

or a TimeLord;

and I can afford

to spread discord

when I say that I am not

a Landlord, TimeLord, Warlord,

or the like.

The census shows my family

as Landfords in one past year,

a lack of handwriting clarity

didn’t make the letters clear;

but I knew

from looking and thinking

that they were mine

and I was theirs,

not Landfords

but Sandfords

adrift back in time

(they weren’t TimeLords either),

and named after a sandy river crossing

I may be,

still, I am a Sandford

(in all probability).



Deborah the debutant

was debonair;

she loved Debussy in her hair;

scorned debauchery with a care;

debated Sartre with whomever there;

debased the currency

on her debut

at Maddison Square –

saving the debacle,

she was nonpareil (without compare);

debate all this – if you dare.