CURSED TALENTS

I dis-engage from reality,

Cast myself in written superiority,

Sea –talk to and with my pen,

Waving out sea lions hidden in the dens.

My imminent explosion!

Black palms of red pigmentation.

My loved ones cease

Motion when I sneeze

Words of reason,

Every emotion packed season.

They fathom not my intentions,

Real or mis-guided information?

I knock heads with them

Men care not, special women

Care most. What can I do?

This talent I shall sue.

Or wash it away with blessings,

Expelled by hearty in depth feelings

I’m cursed yes I am

I guess that’s why, I’m literally dumb

Ill swallow humility,

Vomit my poetic pedagogy

And for once be surreal.

In sincerity of being real.

By M.O.O

SMOKED

They LIT vice.

After sparking adulthood.

Between their fingers held white brown sticks,

SMOKED vice.

Filled their lungs with vice,

Polluted MINDS with vice. It wasn’t nice

Now they PAY the price.

The fumes engulfed their time.

No future or present.

VANISHING past vice.

Remembered good undone, by FLAMES.

That’s the skull, with the pipe.

The cigar. Pot, the smoke.

Viced latex, drinking spree,

Violence, murder, robberies, vice

Life… Smoked!

They smoked and lived vice.

I eat literate-moral white rice.

COOKED and raw, SEEN and experienced.

That’s why I detest VICE.

THROWING of casino dice, money.

Gambling novice.

Exchange of bullet caps,

Armory vice…

CCTV …tapes.

While I cast WORDS,

Saying no to vice,

In a day thrice.

They live/lived in vice.

I’m not vice… I pre-side-ent, righteousness,

In His image. The human way, doing good.

No vernier for my, MENTAL, pages.

By M.O.O aka Carswell Evol.