Plaything 

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.

Signed,

Her Nail Polish Remover

Nesi Writes

Writer Man

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…
Nesi Writes
 

Romanticizing Smoldering Embers

I can feel you in my loins—your smile and sexy voice peeling back my layers.
You’ve got me wide-open.

Our proximity is eons apart preventing satisfaction.

I need you to gratify my decades long of soul yearning. My itch desires relief. Can you do it, huh?

Honestly, until recently, neither of us knew smoldering embers for the other existed—intriguingly interesting.

Look at your sexy self, pushing all up on my psyche, whispering your feelings and crackling my synapses.

Oh, wow, what do we do with this latent itch we metaphorically need scratching?
I’m digging the depths out of you. You feel me?

When restraint weakens, will we telepathically unite satisfying our unresolved groove?

Will we welcome each other in out of the emotional thunderstorm to remedy this thing—this us?

Say what? I didn’t know it was like that.

Mind thrusting each other match-for-match as I come up to meet your truth-telling flow arching my mind’s back—taking all of you in.

That’s it. Lay it down. Put your word-spell on me—like the best you evah had.
I’m feeling your truth all of what’s inside you.

I’m digging your flow, maestro, anticipating you even more.

The tempo of our life’s concerto quickens—oh, the crescendo.

You have me right there like once upon a time when you were my refuge the place I’d go when I needed shelter from the outside world’s disharmony.

As I reflect upon what we once shared, I wonder if I’m over romanticizing what was or am I feeling your psychic energy flowing towards me letting me know that it was and is all real.

Nesi Writes

Of Royal Descent

Artist Unknown

Once I groveled, presently I glide—at times faltering; now assurance leads my way.

Without a void, I courageously explore all that’s been set before me—a buffet of pleasurable delights.

I encounter no woes and no foes.

Arriving at this place of peace is surreal yet familiar—like where I’ve always been meant.

My previous illusionary state was completely deceptive.

Horrid though my past might have been, nevermore am I faced with looking at its slain head.

Truth revealed the illusion; a bully scared me into believing I existed as a lower-class soul.

Being of royal descent, my nature is regal reigning with princes; leading and plotting courses of illuminated destinies.

I’m a warrior Princess.

My sheathed sword can cut through spiritual bones and sinews; ensuring the security of my lot.

Where there once was pity now there’s awe and disbelief of my profound transformation.

I’m a Princess—mighty and bold because my Father is King.

My Father not only taught me ways of the regal, but he’s gifted me with strategic maneuvering to chart destiny’s course.

Granted eagle height perspective, I see miles ahead as I stay my journey’s course.

I lead my Father’s army; for they trust and know I have their best life at heart.

They’re free to be who they are in our kingdom—exhaling their breath so others are capable of living.

Soul bondage is a death row felony in our land—only freedom walks our gilded streets.

So, what are your desires, my Father asks?

I’m without anything—because now, I receive gifts you choose to give me.

©2012 Nesi Writes

Clarity Speaks

Artist: Clarity

With lifted arms, I part the sea leading to your next port—adventuresome it’ll be.

You’re rich in wealth and knowledge.

Your experience projects you into other realms.

Few trod this path, but through fire’s purging you’re granted this gift.

You’ve been proven a thousand times over.

Understandably so, you do not think your vision to be clear—not true!

The lens you peer through is clouded—deluded by yesterday’s grunge.

Wiping the spectacles clean, what do you see?

From the shore, I stand upon; I see a panoramic view filled with rainbows, cliffs, and seas.

It’s time for me to cross the calm sea—crossing over in lush meadows and fields of my dreams.

I desire nothing for all is whole.

My life’s content—anything else is gravy, I so graciously welcome.

Thank you for this peaceful tranquility, this honored state, a true place of grace and bliss.

In the spring of my knowing, my beginning is fresh—made anew, reset.

As clarity spoke before, now, it’s all gravy…

©2012 Nesi Writes