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Prompt 14: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that delves into the meaning of your first or last name.“

Hello, my name is Manja Maksimovič and this is my 14^th poem this year. A bit on the funny side today. (Only now I see the prompt says your first OR last name. Ah, well.)

Nomen is oh, man!

My first name is Manja
and not by chance
it rhymes with lasagna,
not ganja, man!

It’s more than convenient
that in Rome
magna! means eat!
So I feel at home.

My surname is trickier 
but it follows my blogs:
the first was Mexi Movie -
č turns into è in logs. 

I inherited Mexi,
the nickname of my father,
just that his is spelled Meksi;
both mean something larger.

Last night an FB friend wrote:
“You are a true Maksimovič kind:
kind, sharp and honest – 
such a positive mind.”

But nomen est omen,
no hiding the plot:
So I eat and watch movies.
Rather a lot.

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Today is also eight years since I moved to Tuscany from Slovenia. The photo above was taken on the first day in my new home.

The photos below have to do with my name and surname. The first two were taken and sent to me by my poet friend A. who reads my poem every day and I thank him for that.

And finally, at the end are two poems that I wrote on this day on two previous NaPoWriMo occasions. I couldn’t choose just one. Tomorrow we will be halfway through. I can hardly believe that I completed the whole month three times before.

For:

This day in my NaPoWriMo history: A Shadorma chain for my sixth anniversary in Tuscany, 2019

Six years of practice

Hard to know
what he means sometimes
if a word
starts with H.
In his language it’s silent.
And illarious.

So we eat  
the furnace when cold
and heat fruit
and salad.  
At hate o’clock he tells them:
“I eight mosquitoes.”

“I’m hangry.”  
By now I can tell
which it is.  
When ungry, he doesn’t speak.
Six years of practice. 

This day in my NaPoWriMo history: A poem written in 2020 after Tomaž Šalamun and his I Have a Horse

I have a dog. My dog has four legs and an attitude.
I have a record player. On my record player there is more dust than records.
I have a sister. My sister is far.
I have two coats. One to keep me warm, the other to keep me cool.
I have a plant. I have a plant to see if I can keep something alive in my room.
I have Marco. I have Marco because I love him.
I haven’t seen a match in years.
I have a body. With the body I don’t do much at all.
I have destruction. We all do. Destruction is getting visible.
I have night. Night comes to me through the window of my room. For now.
I have fun taking pictures. I take pictures because taking pictures is fun.
I don’t have money. I’m not bread-winning. I’m not even bread-baking.
I have at least 73 poems. There is no telling if they are any good. I hope I will write more of them.
I am forty-nine years old. All these years have passed like lightening. I’m not turning fifty until I can have that big party with family and friends.
I am relatively courageous. With this courage I can do absolutely nothing about human stupidity.
I have a birthday May sixteenth. I hope May sixteenth will be a nice enough day.
I have a friend whose daughter’s name is Ema.
She knew Šalamun, but in the evening when she goes to bed, she remembers her father singing her Partisan songs when little. And falls asleep.