my shell, it seems
is the only thing that is known as me
if "nothing is as nothing seems"
i'll be the nothing i am, to you, for free

i am skin
and eyes
and skull
and bone

i am hair
and fingers
and limbs, here on loan

i am a photograph
you "no heartedly" gaze
swiping and scrolling
in a "hook up fried" haze

sick of talking to another
who's talking to everyone else
"past your eyes" looking
is the new normal, game

so "marriage equality" is legal
and it doesn't mean a thing
too many "already partnered or married's"
bring such a soul sting

but back to "my shell",
attached to a name
many may know it,
but they don't know the shame.

that pulsates, pounds
with every beat of my heart
says the boy who imbibed "tragedy"
as his most drawn to, of arts

now older and wiser
in a shallow soaked world
where "bisexual" means you'll do anyone for attention
my grandma, a dog, any willing boy or girl

my shell, inside
possesses a soul
along with a heart,
but all i am is a hole

to attach any thought, you don't have
for a moment,
then on the the next,

utterly disposable.

i own it.

because i know it,
and the truth does not lie

because i see it,
played out daily.

my shell, it seems
underneath,
here, i hide.



21 march 2019
ringwald love.

the first poem. (for a poetic love from afar)

see the carrot, dangled and dazzling
bobbed and weaving above your eyes
dynamic, divine, swaying, side to side
glistening, golden
its the absolute in an elusive lie

everything, it knows, you want
whether or not, you admit it, confess
the carrot, dangled, knows you in "naked"
sees through your attempts to deny it, forsake it

it is the apple, "you're eve"
or, if offended, we can call you "steve"
no matter the label, or title, here called
grab for it, bite it
begins here, "the fall"

this battle for power, of submit to "the hold"
this carrot is smart, knows your secrets untold

it wants you to want it
worship, enslaved, sit.

and wait forever, for the possibility,
it's yours
the difference defined,
through the Christ and the whores

a trickster,
with mixture,
soul drenched, light and dark

versatile, for symphonies and saran
wrapped, you, for "play time"
you, "the played", he, "the man"

what to give, to "the he" who has everything?
a family and a husband and a stable of others,
lined up, labeled, valuated, vaseline-d

what to give, is "the crawl"
that he wants
the carrot is lifeless, if not dangled,
in front

real trust is earned
in action, not words
in follow up and follow through
like blood is red and sky is blue

fuck purple.
and it's mixture of madness
you're better off in the comfort of strangers'
sheets, sadness

those without the smarts or the power of carrots
the difference between lions for lambs, mice for ferrets

do not pretzel or bend
do not grab, beg, the carrot
the secret is this,
please imprint, be aware, it

sit silent and strong
make no movement, at all.

and watch as that carrot
gets bored, then moves on.

the lesson,
the carrot was never about you
it's for those without insight
or depth, to see through

the carrot wants your power, for him
keep you salivating, in waiting
a toy, imprisoned, his whims

impalpable
and ever, just out of reach
what is practiced, presented
isn't always what's preached

before your eyes
let it fall, let it rise

know exactly who and what,
the carrot is.

and keep walking alone
your dreams,
a coveted, carrot-less man

make a wish.

(one who wants you, as much as you want him,
one unencumbered,
reciprocal heart, throbbed,
real, begin)



27 october, 2018 
ringwald love.

prisoner of the red lights.
dreams daily of setting himself free.
(too many people, not enough humans,
the streets are war zones, anyway)
one day he will.
it will be glorious to feel.
keep moving forward, and in time,
things can heal.

(so they say and so he prays, in awareness of the "ravaged within" state.)

he says,
"as far away from "the everyone's" as possible, please
all the chaos and careless, brought me to my broken and beleaguered knees"...

"but in the end I'll stand tall and silent, transcendent
as majestic, with meaning, as the ever present trees"...

that surround us all, but you sometimes have to wonder
does anyone notice, does anyone see?

just another prisoner of the red lights.
secretly  dreaming,
another life, "meant to be"

1 june 2018 ringwald love.