Don’t Call Me One

Call me not a Drunk
For what I take are thirst quenchers
They move me not
I move them
For the paths I walk are just unstable and undulating
I stagger not.

Why call me a Cheat?
I’m just wiser than you
Or let’s say, smarter than you are.
Able to play on your intelligence
And take away what you let loose.

Should I be called a Rascal?
How dare they?
I just derive pleasure making a meal out of nothing
And creating a scene
Where there is none.

Don’t call me a Smoker
For I’m only keeping myself warm
Or rather, keeping my mouth busy.
Moreover, I swallow not the smoke
I puff it out in patterns
And it stains not the atmosphere.

Call me not a greedy fellow
For my needs are not yet met
My desires grow like weeds.
They refuse to expire
Even though I’m tired.

I hate it when I’m called a Prostitute
It’s services I render to customers.
Why not call me a service provider?
Isn’t that palatable?
For they pay for pleasure
And get what I don’t treasure.



5 thoughts on “Don’t Call Me One” by Okeme James Jerome (@okemejames)

  1. …………………………………………………
    And don’t call me reader
    only one enjoys words
    making him ride well
    through life

    Nice job Poet!
    …………………………………………………

    1. Nice addendum. Good surmise

  2. Good job. You really kept me guessing the next line

  3. mendel martha (@ihenyengladysusile)

    really nice……..

  4. Beautiful poem. I got your drift.

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