I never found out
why my parents chose my name,
after a famous book by Kipling,
or a glamorous actress of the 1950s,
but all through childhood
friends and family added letters,
even whole syllables.
Did they think it made my own
three letters more substantial?
Did they think it was cute or funny
to call me Kimmy, Kimbo or Kimberley?
When I was the only child
in the school to wear glasses,
I could see the board,
handwriting improved,
I shot to the top of the class—
and some bright child decided
to call me Spectaclism.
I finally learned to like my name,
wrote a poem about the time,
just before my seventeenth birthday,
a Korean guy,
who I met in Amsterdam,
when I went to buy
jasmine tea, joss sticks
and a brass frog ashtray,
told me my name means gold.
Kim M. Russell, 21st April 2026
On the 21st day of NaPoWriMo, the optional prompt is based on a poem by Monika Kumar, ‘Names and Nicknames’, in which she writes about the various nicknames she has been given, the actual name her mother gave her, and the way both names and nicknames indicate a claim and an intimacy at once.
Our challenge is to write poems in which we muse on our names and nicknames, or the names and nicknames for animals, plants, or places.
writing in north norfolk 
It’s a powerful name. I was always ashamed for people to know my middle name, and I learned it meant strong like an oak tree.
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