Sunday, August 21, 2011

"A Rose by Any Other name" Simony Chiavary Episode 4.

Episode 4 "A Rose by Any Other Name"


She watches him on the bed as he sleeps peacefully. She looks at herself through the same mirror that she watches him with. He is a lucky man who is snoring quietly. She smiles at herself in the mirror. Naughty girls need love too, and this is the only type of love she knows. The gift which is her body. However, she does not give her prized possession easily. She uses her multi-cultural exotica well along side the genius of a ruthless business woman. Yet in these, her early days of establishing herself in the so called game, she was without direction and purpose. That along with many things were soon about to change.
         
     She thinks about the scandalous way she met him. The way she deceived him before she received him. She spotted him in the JFK international airport and marked him as she always does. He was young, he was awkward and he was cute, which meant he was perfect. She made sure she bumped into him literally making both of them shuffle unbalanced feet. He took one look at her almond shaped eyes an he was putty to be molded and shaped to obey her commands. She was impressed at the fact he kept eye contact the whole time he helped her not to fall. That was the beauty of her game. Her non-verbal communication was enough to make you powerless. Yet like a tiger that plays with its wounded prey, she gives him a chance to flee. He doesn't get far. She follows him in a cab to the Marriott on the airport's perimeter. She waits at the bar inside of the Marriott's lobby. This move by her is a safe bet for any gambling spread. Her bumping into a man the way she bumped into him usually inspired a man's thirst for a stiff drink. Like clock work you can set your watch to, he approaches the bar. He recognizes her instantly before calling out to her with a youth filled "hello" She is at an un-fair advantage, for he thinks this meeting is fate. She knows that this meeting is arranged by her. Yet she needs to seal this deal quickly because she is on the run. She doesn't need to be in lobby's of busy places that police occasionally go to. Finally he asks what her name is suggesting he was afraid to. "Naive"she says to a young man who scowls with a forehead full of questions. He asks her to repeat what she said with a "pretty please" attached to the end. "Niesha" she says and the hook sinks ever deeper in his brain. For she planted the seed that suggested his potential to score. As she watches him now summon the elevator for the two of them with nervous hands, she is relieved for the moment. Now her focus lands on the young man who will receive the night of his life.



     She has found that a woman has needs as well. She liked them as young as she was. She never slept with old school cats, she just robbed them while they slept. Young,tall, athletic, and dumb was for emergent stress relief. Not that the random nature of this temporary lover is not without the karma of emptiness. In a perfect world all little girls would learn the proper nature of a man's intimacy through their fathers. This is not a perfect world. A young girl is giving a man she barely knows the night of his life. A man puts himself in harms way for a woman who hasn't told him her real name. As if that were not enough, a very unassuming man is now waiting in the Marriott lobby after following Niesha all day. He was on her as she changed license plates on Trevor's Mercedes in shady spots with other Benzes of the same make. He was on her tail the very moment she left that bloody mess behind her in Atlanta. That is exactly what Niesha thinks about as again she finishes off the young naive warrior to be. Again he snores lightly and again, she watches him from the mirror.



     Most of her needs are met, and her worries seem to melt away from the heat inside her arched back bones. Yet the killing she witnessed in an Atlanta Waffle House didn't melt from her memory as easily. She is trapped within the day dream of a nightmare. She can still hear the gun shots, she can still hear herself screaming, however, she no longer hears the light snore of her lucky lover. She notices that her young play toy is awake on the bed staring at her through the mirror. "Your name isn't Niesha or Naive, is it?" The youngster asks humbly. Interestingly enough, no one ever cared enough to ask. Hell, its been so long since she used her real name she isn't sure of how to correctly spell it. "You want to know my name do you? I'm not sure you would believe me if I told you" She says with a polite brush off to his ambitious request. "A rose by any other name" he says to her. She thinks its the cutest thing that he said what he said. Then she obliges him with the title that he's seeking.



"My real name is Simony. Simony Chiavary.

Welcome to my world"


Monday, August 1, 2011

Protection from Deception

What we need is protection from deception.


Yet we mock the wisdom forged by greater fires

Children prove their parents to be liars

Then wander in different directions

Ending up in darker places

Not quite sure about what faith is.

Or where on Earth their place is.

So they draw from their perceptions

On how to build protection from deception.

They would love to wield a mighty shield

But they simply do not have the steel

That is forged by rejection and correction.

With limited time in life’s game they play

With a immature substance soft as clay

No match for weapons of today
or yesterday

So they use the clay to change their complexions.

Hiding all their imperfections

Fighting lies with yet another

Until we soon discover

The Devil hides in the details of our reflections.

Funny how we become what we hate

Be mindful of what you use to create

Your very soul may be at stake

What we need is protection from deception.