Call Me Anything Poem by Ishmael Onserio

Call me the blessed one in that broad daylight's meeting,
Call me great when friends gather around our dinner table,
Call me extraordinary when my hand wipes those bitter tears,
Call me love as your head finds repose upon my bare bosom,
Whine more when your ears listen to my comforting singing,
In that midnight when tranquility is trounced like an old label,
Call me pilot as I steer you to desired directions of your dreams,
Call me king as my name is glued on the crown of our kingdom,
Pat my shoulder and wish me well at the peak point of my reign,
Above all, call me fortunate as your hands shelter me in the rain.

Call me the cursed one in the loneliness of your chilling attic,
Call me a modest chap when we commune at that juncture,
When a libelous half-soulmate hammers your crevassed door,
Call me ordinary as you get frustrated with glitches on my brow,
Call me a warmonger when you hid behind your muffled strike,
Like an informer, the most feared ophidian ready to puncture,
Call me a slack compatriot for my trivial add-on to that score,
Call me a butler as we join hands in thought for a know-how,
Inarticulate my voice as I seek the unifying real-life extremity,
Call me anything as you tire in your conceit and disparity.