ART: PAUL CHATEM, DEVIL’S PLAYTHING
She purchased me—like I am a hooker or something. Supposedly, she needed me—instead she hid me away, out of sight out of mind. Occasionally, she glances at me when she is nearby—toying with me like I am her plaything. Even though I am available for her, she goes to someone else instead of thinking about me.
Sometimes desperation causes her to grab me, loosen me, and pour me over her cushiony friend. After I satisfy her sweet spot, she is content—casting me aside once again. I return to my isolated dark place longing for her return. I know I behave foolishly by acquiescing to the way she uses me. She willingly, openly, and freely allows her friends to pass me around tending to their little dirty deeds.
These acts leave me humiliated—feeling so cheap, and filthy. Her constant neglect and disrespect frustrate me—rendering me helpless because I am in her possession. However, I wait in desperation for her return to me.
Her Nail Polish Remover
What are you doing, thinking, being, freeing?
Like a see-saw or whirling twirling swirling but never unnerving
I do dig you like an ole school record
‘Cause, Baby, I love your ways
You are re-quieting enticing spicing like the House of Atredis, my Lord
You are worthy I’m glad you know that
Float on, soar, and carry on your Highness
Beauty is her name—so accommodating, ego stroking spirit of yours elating
I don’t know if I trust her, but, if you do, if that pleases you, go on through to do you ‘cause she is pursuing you though you already knew
We all need our Strokerz for they give us that flesh zinger that twinge and fix we need
I guess the rest of us have to sort through our own mess as we see your groupies serenade you, throw their word panties at you
It sickens me when some floozy tries to woo you with her honey dipped words rolling off her lips
The pretty ones make us wince because we don’t believe in our own beauty (have mercy) see our own worth our own value if we did we would not be jealous it’s true
Pure jealousy haunts me when I see you flirting with those Prancers and Posers because I can’t have you
Now, I see that I want to own you, control you, make you the property that I so loathe being for anyone else…
Spiritually ascending souls frequently encounter irksome guides as they sojourn.
Stoicism and defection cause these souls to stumble as wee babes for temporary moments in time.
A more enlightened individuation of themselves mastered the aforementioned characteristics, long ago.