i was wrong
and that's ok
i will live to see another day
i will not, however
be quite the same
transformed by the loss of you
and all of the shame

that swells and floods
comes crashing, like waves
that taunt and haunt
this path for me, paved

a "you" focused soul,
so alive in the giving
this, the only way
i understand, called real living

yet brutality strikes
time and again
what i think that is real
all in my head, heart, a sin

it seems that i, just don't get it
give in
most everyone much happier
in focus, first and last, just on them

what they want and need
what they can gain from "the take"
in receive
and when they are done
it's on me, left alone
to solve then, the puzzle
what is wrong with me,
the love lost, no home

inside of me
to feel strong, safe, secure
there once was a time
i thought i was sure

that trust was a gift
that most would not betray
so whore-i-fied
to learn here, this all just a play

of words and emotions
rarely real, beyond the moment
and at the end of the day
all you are, you must own it

every perception, misplaced
every time you fell, from another's
good grace
every time you sold your soul
for the fleeting warmth, an embrace
that was forgotten, the moment
pre-planned, gone, left, no trace

of remembrance
or acknowledgement
it takes two, a bond
that lasts either a lifetime
or for the all too common
"didn't mean much, so then
not very long"...

someday
to die
in the arms, another
a lover, compassionate
strong

who sees, understands
for some of us
the path is tumultuous, long

for the lasting of love, pure
there is no hand, place, cure

amongst the "care less"
want, wealth
and
"the never can quite trust yourself"

to ever know, when its safe
less, a land of ruin and rape
to be naked, vulnerable
"mask off" and sure

for the dreams, visions
"belong to you", beautiful
what some of us
will put ourselves through

endure.


bowen hart roselli
26 may 2020
ringwald love

serenity, like divinity
his alive, sweet awake
inspiring this new road, untraveled
within, so moved, compelled, partake

just focus on the water
the sound of it
rushing
feel and sit
amongst the gods
nothing false,
sacred, the silence, secrets forthcoming

schizoid strays of psyche and soul
gone, like the games, we live and die
upon, roles
of the worrier, the warrior
the bruised up boy, the boring girl

"not today"
his, another one
enlightening, inspiring phrase
that without him, my eyes
wouldn't have seen,
like the light in the day

as in,
"what do we say to the god of death"

does he like, does he know?
he encapsulates so much of my
thought, my breath...

amongst the water.
i am secure, i am safe
this clean and clear truth.

nothing else feels real,
matters

but him.

(that is you)

and all i have got left
is this re-imagined, reawakened
heart,

filled,
this truth.

and little to even less
is more
than the slightest sliver, shiver
possibility

he knows this
and is pleased
in his own space of silence
his own enveloping waters

a slight smile
we both know
he will never dare
let on to me.

captured
without compromise
i am guilty
his overcome, overpower of me
and all i can blame
is that voice
and those eyes


bowen hart roselli
3 july 2020
ringwald love 

rip me open to repair me, right
change my thought patterns,
heal my sight

make me see all my bullshit,
what it is
betrayal of the self
should never have been
the break, bone, wish

the things we do to ourselves, unbelievable
just to think, for a moment
"escape the wounds", be receivable

by some force,
some universe, unknown
then karma strikes,
with a blunt blow,
stung

like living inside the burn,
bruise, blood
the tear in the skin, scabbed
itching, stitched, come

a constant reminder
just another lost human, underneath
with a dream, an "other half"
our whole, found, complete

that "one", in warmth
electrify, envelope the sheets
embody, in body, psyche
the "always", in connective rhythm
heartbeats

that pulse together
two storms struck, lightning
tethered
to the gift, awareness, "adored"
is a state called "truly"
rare, in existence, anymore..

so simple, yet, so tragically complex
in a world, "can't wait",
for what comes next
"hypnotized, not to live in the now"
but for "the next one", unzipped
"they might be even more hung, well endowed"

or better cherry, chosen
more ready and willing
to be "popped, licked, lolly, opened"
in a land of "no one owes you a thing"
think about the selfishness implied,
what's that?
it's called an "alone", scarring sting

that alters you, immeasurably
somehow numbs "the plumb"
tart, so pleasurably
passed around, from the tree of life
what is a whore, but someone's
"dishes done", drained wife

or husband, home
but emasculated for
the credit card, "more!"
replace what we've got,
what, with we don't need
"it was perfectly fine",
but watch, the cycle repeats

the one that in volumes, of silence,
it speaks
too often, we are strangers,
chosen partners, spread, sheets
it's "don't ask, don't tell"
in a hole, as in "rabbit",
devours "the divine", dreams
our dwell

upon all that, which we want,
think, "don't have"
but is often right there,
right in front of us, fell

but can't see it, blind
to the truth, fear, "too kind"
to the fixation, it has to look
exactly as we picture,
like a catalogue, flipped,
frothing, foaming, at the mouth
"perfect fixture"

that we never find, of course
look back, as in "don't"
you just might feel that thing
called remorse
you just might see the truth
that was there
all along, the mirror
your seeping sad eyes, haunted stare

so please, take heed
and please, be aware
sometimes "the seek", in your sought
it's right there.
the soul that's present in focus,
whole being
but you are blind to it,
doesn't fit, your ideal
only seeing..

that which isn't
not that, which is
that, what is fated,
your "underneath",
"careful", wished

as sometimes, the universe
in all it's "mysterious ways"
it has other plans...

and it sees through,
knows all our games.

the one's we've played,
to oblivion and back
the ones on ourselves,
our worst enemy, attacked

so take a seat,
grab some popcorn, relax
watch the film, in your mind,
play out

and the answers, in the end
final reel, leave no doubt

that the war, it was you,
inside me, all along
and, for the same in reverse,
to be revealed..

you've gotta be ready,
stand, unbelievably

strong.


bowen hart roselli
8 july 2020
ringwald love

i know where i belong.
the problem is, no one believes me.
because very few, can actually see me

bound and tied to the beautiful
is the only way i can ever, do feel free
each broke the mold
and then shattered it again
in the allowance of admire,
love struck awe, there's no end

as if this, somehow
just utterly themselves
is exact, the ingredients
to be destined a life called
"sent straight to hell"

not for any sin, extraordinary
except for not being anything ordinary
as in "like all the rest"
whats that?
an actual heart,
throbbing soul, in the chest?

please then, fuck them twice,
and nice, once more
amongst avenues and alleyways
all the schemers and whores

all the petty and pretty
all the upright shallow
and the downright shitty

in the sunlight, hiding
in the shadows we're sitting

waiting, wandering
feeling, thinking, pondering
what exactly, and why are we here?

somehow, the answer, coming through,
not quite clear

so then
bound to them
is my only escape
from the eternal wound, scar
intense, the isolative, disconnected
shame state

like lovers and gods
goddesses from another time, place
fate

lost to me, location, direction, exact
so comes, lost, to be just
a matter of fact

but not when I'm tied, bound
lost in the love that is the heaven
of them

it's not a matter of time
it's just a matter of when

i, be allowed
somewhere else,
can i be me?

the closest i have come
yes, in and with them,
bound, real love, light, heart
soul

set free


bowen hart roselli
2 july 2020
ringwald love

sometimes stay and sometimes go
sometimes yes and sometimes no
sometimes fucked, and sometimes,
"fuck you"
always though, you inside me, true

often lost and often found
often surfacing and often drowned
often left and often right
always, longing, hold you tight

never sure and never wrong
never weak and never strong
never fear and never free
always here, why can't you see?

daily done and daily didn't
daily open and daily hidden
daily sleeping and daily awake
always ready, for you, your partake

usually here and usually not all there
usually truth, and usually dare
usually sexual and usually platonic
always, to please you, yes, i am on it

seldom seen and seldom unnoticed
seldom known and seldom unknown, this
seldom silent and seldom voiced
always, in adoration,
you leave me no choice

unusually bound and unusually free
unusually you and unusually me
unusually pouring and unusually plugged
always, yes, for you,
blind man,
filled with love.



bowen hart roselli
8 july 2020
ringwald love

i don't get it
cuz i don't get it
cuz i can't forget it
so i never win it
cuz i don't get it...

from dog to doormat,
the blink of an eye
from interested to "outta here"
another dick, another guy

another love, walks past me, by
cuz i just don't get it
this thing called life

it's all a game, and how you play
determines if you're a "leave" or "stay"
determines if you,
the stamina to succeed
at the buffet where the beautiful feed

cuz their the ones
with the security of money
and the ability to line up
the latest "honey"

fit the mold, you'll get the gold
buy all the lines, and do as you're told
be whomever they need you,
the moment
land of hypocrites, chameleons
if you're a "you, that" , then own it

hypocrisy reigns
and few are complaining
if it gets you the "get there"
in the "good for you!" gaining

of all it is, that matters here now
plenty of cash equals plenty of pussy
equals plenty of pandered to,
equals plenty of power

could be substituted for ass,
if you're gay, bi, or "do anyone"
could be substituted for cock.
if your one of those women,
too often seen as "fuckin' hot",
but no fun

domineering cunts
out for power and control
they got it, get it
as in, get the shit done
just dildo themselves
instead of wasting their energy
on caring, finding, "the one"

cuz "love" cums and goes
this day and age, a commodity sold
cuz the ones that don't get it
never read the book,
or paid attention, were told

the first to be slaughtered,
fed to "the gang"

heart of gold.

"look here bro's and bitches, alike
this one's ready and damn dude,
quite ripe"...

cuz they don't get it
so we gotta show 'em

"hey, lets play that game, called
toss em and throw em"...

fun, fun, fun
as the sun sets on another day,
heart done

not "won",
not cherished,
but primed, for the perish
cuz if you haven't gotten it by now,

if real treasure lies in you,
character, honesty, love
better guard it with your life
cuz few, if any,
could care more than even slightly less

that's my best hope positive guess
from one who didn't get it
'til way too late in the game to impress
and in many ways i still don't
which leaves me more, a wilting "won't"

unless i fight like hell to change
hide my "damaged divine"
amongst all this "derange"

i don't get
cuz i don't get it
cuz i can't forget it, (love)
so i never win it, (life)...

cuz i don't get it.


bowen hart roselli
19 july 2020
ringwald love