My name usually brings out a giggle and buzz,
It educes some questions and culminates tasks.
Massuline Antonio—what is the fuzz?
It is none, but to read it right is all I ask.

Into four distinct parts must my name now be divided,
See it: MAS-SU-LI-NE, so you safely may be guided.
Read the MASSU in MASSULINE very carefully too,
Use the key at the end that pronounces it just so: (mäsū)

Do not read the LI part as “li” as in Bruce’s Lee,
Use the lī found in “lie,” as when faking a story.
Make the NE sound unique and a little bit naughty,
Match the sound of the “ni” in a skimpy bikini.

With the nickname of MAD I was long identified,
As a tag from initials that can’t be denied.
From Antonio, with TONY, I also was tagged,
Even down into MASSU my title was dragged.

Sir Mad or Dr. Ligaya: my workplace epithets,
With so many distinct names, I grew quite perplexed.
When a child, by my playmates, I used to be labelled,
They would scream out “DADDU!” and I quickly was angered.

In a previous workplace within my own country,
People said that they found my full name rather funny.
It was tiring to speak it in full and entirety,
So “DR. JOY! DR. JOY!” is how they would call me.

Out of all of the monickers I have been called with,
There is only one name that I consider so sweet.
I feel truly delighted whenever I hear it,
For that name is just CHING, music to my ears indeed.

A strict “nom de plume” is a tool I use in writing,
When my true identity safely I am keeping.
I am “The Fabulist” when anthropomorphizing
Wild beasts, so that human flaws I am attacking.

I once parodied Quijano De Manila of Joaquin,
So Quijano De Ilocandia I was using.
But in most of the instances I would be choosing
The bold tag of HARDPEN—the best of my pseudonyms.

To make my classroom laugh, I play a rhythmic game,
And twist Laura’s old song around my middle name.
I chant a massive word to make the students smile:
I scream it out and say it for a while—

“TONITONIPOPONIBANANANAPOPONINOMIMAYFOFONI!”