for as much as you do know
there is little that you don't
for as little as you do say
there is much that you won't

right time, right place
right linger, right trace
left sensual, left stardust
left touch, left deep thrust

of body and brain
primed, your primal penetrate
not in an actualized "mount", satiate
an introduction
to a divine longing state
you, somehow
the realization, my fate

but penetrate you did,
through me, "threw"
left here to investigate
what is me, what is you

looking for shadows
looking for clues
hoping, like sweet fuck, eden, hell
your inner devil delicately smiles,
shines, amused

crazy is, as receptors receive
the words you speak,
deep, they pierce,
i believe

and all the images of heaven
you inspire
based in beautiful, born of admire
they take me, totaled
in totality, taken
as if never quite before
was i awake,
until your electric, energetic awaken

further fucked and fallen, into you
there is nothing i can attempt,
leash removed

the one called love
and lust, soul combined
the one, so placed
by those mesmerizing
multi meaning meant eyes

doesn't have to be ugly
doesn't have to be defined
doesn't demand, be deconstructed
or picked apart,
what is, just was then..

placed inside
like nature to natural
not everything needs "a literal"
to make it real, exalted as factual

i need to get laid
bed perpetually, so perfectly made
real relations are messy
and that's you and me, trust me

but it's nothing weird
or wrong, exactly
it's just power, exchanged
and you got me, without
ever having to be "had"
as in have me

complicated stuff
but not so very complicated, really
if it's not you or he, they,
something will kill me

and someday
when it's all over and done
on my lips, "last breath"..
what is it?...the one...
thing i will long for,
live in "the after"

It's called the state of you
and all the feelings, fires, sensations
you brought forth...

the definition of rapture
encapsulated, and captured

the deepest of kisses
long, entwined, drenched
drown forever

you
the engulfing nakedness
i find
myself so involved
and so willingly, inescapably
tethered.



bowen hart roselli
3 september 2020
ringwald love 

prone to bleed
filled with need
dark thoughts feed
self doubts breed

thoughts repeat
loops defeat
fears compete
desires, discrete

rage aroused,
his "well endowed"
not great in crowds
fuck, get me out...

hold me down
let me drown
give you a crown
your mind renowned

i like aggression
so much repression
my life's confession
it's not depression

deep sadness, destined
what's north, south, west again?
feel like I'm soaked in sin
that started way back when...

divine obsessions
memory regressions
love the man who questions
he's good with directions

he drives with confidence, strong
his glances deep and long
to me its right, but wrong
these feelings him, i belong

i know i don't but do
to him it's nothing new
he doesn't care, but does
and it just is, because...

i can't control my heart
and here, he is now, huge part
filled, top, of brilliant art
i dream one day, new start

to be with him again
pray not "the why", but "when"
a new beautiful, bright begin
one this time without an end..

he is my favorite friend
he's got such incredible skin
pale, clean, he shines within
my resolve, he wears it thin

its not a crime, it's love
it shined, like from above
just fit like hand in glove
no need for push, pull, shove

in the end, he's just my mate
he showed up one day, fate
never imagined this, my state
of overcome, his "hold", so great

doesn't matter, to him, does?
it, matter, just because
it's what i feel and was
so alive amongst him, buzz

of lights, there electric hum
don't think i was ever numb
around his mind, heart, become
like heaven on earth found, done

as in, I'm good to go
couldn't hope for more, his grow
bond with me, blessed and so
all the things he taught me, shown

here now, this heart, so spilled
yeah, you could call me killed
as in so fully filled
with him, his "know" instilled

ingrained, like rain, he pours
washed up to sea, his shore
one day I'll open the door
and he'll be here once more

this, just, "it's me", you see
this dream, reality
all now, It's him, i see
the one, i do believe...

so sweet, yet dangerous
don't know why, maybe because
he's got my heart, his hand
but doesn't need it, man

of magic, girls, his way..
yet still, I'll always stay
who cares what it's called, ok
some things we cannot say

but his beautiful i will not stray
and it makes me happy, days
and nights, of endless dreams

this, the ballad, heart, his
it seems.....

moments, self doubt, free and clear
i now know what it means, bigger picture
beyond me,

no fear.


bowen hart roselli
10 september 2020
ringwald love

nothing good
nothing bad
flat line friendships
no passion, depth of any kind
to be found or had

they exist
because they can, and do
like the grass is green
and the sky is blue

no deep thought needed
merely an ultra-occasional
scan of the "phone brain"
repeated..

every rare so often
a "hey friend, how's it goin'?"
text, supposed to make you feel
like the winds of a windfall,
lottery win, towards you are blowin'

little soul value placed
little to nothing
beyond the surface,
scratched, traced

back to nothing
but maybe bored outta mind
cuz "outta sight"
your supposed to feel
take the tossed off sentiment
as the modern age definition of "real"

cuz any crumb of any thought
better, now, no thought at all?
true, one could say
attention span of dysentery
this day, this play

of "keep all connected",
but really, mostly, out to sea, at bay
conditioned to accept the bullshit
as a bouquet of flowers,
chant "i like it this way"..

land of "lay down and take it"
and better if you can smile
while you fake it
the orgasm or
the "gee, that didn't hurt"
the moan without groan
to show appreciation, the worth

of sentiments tossed
like convenience store glossed
lips without the "sizzling quencher"
lives lived, "voids filled",
devoid of the divine, in the pursuit,
the adventure

of human relations
and soul exchange,
heart elations

flat line friendships
no real effort or work
just "happy to have the occasional
body around"
so the reality of how alone
we really are,
doesn't cause a convulsion,
then, in isolation we drown

so better to drown in the shallow
than the deep
flat line friendships,
the preferred crop to keep

watered with droplets
of aqua, so few
dehydration is dandy! now
like a soaker-head, fused

to the hose, up the nose
without the mouth,
no human voice given out

cuz flat line friendships
a phone call, please,
not what they're all about

that's like asking
to move in and marry
so dead, so "yesterday",
so much work,
so then strenuous, very!

easy nothing
is easy go
along for the ride
or be left behind, so

flat line friendships
they, "the now", soul nutrition
be happy!, not heartfelt
you've been given a morsel
so quit your starved bitchin'

cuz you can get used to 'em
to the point you feel full
like convincing yourself
watching "gma!"
isn't garbage bullshit,
soul dead, dreary and dull

flat line friendships
no high, no low
no challenge, no show

of anything, called everything
that makes one truly cherished
truly valued, treasured gift
deep friendships,
they've been set adrift..

to wither on the vine
of who's got the time?
who's got the care?
if it's not all about me,
i can't feel it, so there!

keep telling yourself
It's "all natural now", "it's fine"
god knows the sound
of a phone ring these days
that "ding-a-ling", "damn them!"
sends chills up the spine

what happened to the heart of
real love?

in it's "true friend 'til the end"
form

well,
it seems, it's

flat lined _______________.


bowen hart roselli
8 september 2020
ringwald love 

how much does matter
matter anymore?
it doesn't seem like it matters much
or maybe it matters
too much to me, i am such...

a serious fuck
too often at the cul-de-sac
"shit outta luck"

a dead end, i thought
could've been a road, a new begin
a fool of heart and hope, my sin

it matters if it matters to you
what you see and feel, go through
the ones i love, the very few
to various degrees, in varying hues

of color, shape and light reflected
a deeper divine of spirit, soul detected
let's be honest, some, yes,
matter more than most
depends on whom, your heart,
you take in and host

and how many, of course
how much room,
you've got left inside you
land of ever expanding insanity, doom

so much chaos, so much crazy
the ones numb and blind to it,
kind of amazing...
how they can sleep,
get by, "on the fly"
like nothing matters at all
so they don't even try

to make things matter
like manners, human kindness
"must be nice", to live
a perpetual state,
brainless and blinded

cities savaged and ravaged
burned to the ground
looted and left for dead
in the name of "let's protest"

yeah, and how does looting
and lighting shit on fire, really help
it doesn't, but gotta blame
your garbage behavior on everyone else

because it's not about
who anyone, anymore, is inside
if there is one even left,
behind the color of skin,
cover of culture, and eyes

real world problems,
complicated and deep seeded, yes
shit swept under the rug,
that needs proper truth and address

but how, do that
in a world so absorbed in
the pawn and the profit of "me"
and "my cross is
the only one that matters,
all i see"....

cuz it's a lie to say
there is that "melting pot,
great american", that used to be
what we ascribed to, what we believed

it's my culture versus your culture
and let's play
"who's the new villain, vulture"
expect everyone to bend
and take it in the ass
to make it easier for you
to feel catered to, get a pass...

there is shit stain on, amongst
every culture, every color, every race
and a blank look of "dead inside"
across too many a pair of eyes
with a permanently glued
phone on their face

people that have no concept
anyone else exists, but them
it's all around us, a disease
infectious, noxious, so then...

when does it matter?
beyond "far too left and far too right"
no nestling of nuance
whose got the attention span,
whose got the time?

its "out for me"
and "only me, mine"
that's called the modern age,
"human condition"
and it's begins and ends
with that thing we're all supposed
to have, called "an inside"...

things like character, consideration
they have died
empathy, compassion
killed, left slaughtered by their side

its exhaustion and overload
using each other as excuses
and entertainment
as punching bags and
poster childs,
"this diagnosis, let's glorify
and blame it"...

and gotta create more labels,
"look at me"
glom on, hold tight
desperate,
"so special, without them,
no identity, me"

cuz really, all that matters
is not a hell of a lot
of anything, anyone, to many..

except maybe who they're fucking,
their family and two, three real friends,
away from social media, yeah right
that means best guess one, if any

this, just the way it is,
It's called "here"
as in life, amongst
the very few ever truly know you,
care if you live, die or exist

so if that matters,
cherish whatever,
whomever, that matters

because it matters only,
if it matters to you
and maybe, like a miracle
you will find someone else

that shit actually matters,
from the "human on the inside",
rare state of being
mindful, loving, passionate, soul
sensitive to the "give means receiving"

and that matters
because without one
there could never exist

the beautiful bond, then,
of two


bowen hart roselli
6 september 2020
ringwald love 

 words on the winds of when...

they are said.
the moment, the reason
the context, the "mean them"..

as in too often, not
and most often, forgot
words are the one thing,
come far too cheap,
and require no thought

just spit em out
rare, integrity, taught
to all us brats and bitches in school
the first to go was "that golden rule"

"yeah, gotta get rid of that"
you, fool
the one that drowned, in the belief
deep, the pool

that swarmed with people
just leeches, legal
to get away with the slaughter,
they do
the first "lynch mobbed"
was the soul, in the truth

words, just wiped
like the ass, swiftly psyched
to get it on, and get it over
do anything necessary
for self gain, like a boner

hard and primed, for the pound
pummel, puss puss
or the ass, even better,
cuz if you don't, your a wuss wuss

just speak em, shit em
out, and forget em
only a fool or a retard
believes
when the name of this game
is "all the moment", deceive

dodge, weave
deny, perceive

that nothing you say
has a lasting effect
just syllables forming sentences
frothed and foamed,
at the mouth of the moment

"no regrets"
just as long as you've the ability
to not take them to heart
best not to believe them
and all the better to forget

so if you can remember these words
then mark them well lived,
well learned

"don't forget"....


bowen hart roselli
14 july 2020
ringwald love 

I'm that guy...
willing to walk through the fires of hell
to stand by you, loyal to your light
what is it they say,
"you may not get what you want,
but you might need what you find"..

I'm tired of apologizing that i am a boy..
or a guy as you'd call me..
"man, dude, friend"..
whatever makes you happy
brings you a little bit of joy

in the end they're just words
a language you speak
you never saw me coming, either
do you really know what it is you seek?

in a place where love is lost, like air
can't breathe, any of us
left with a soul,
amongst all the dead eyed blank stares

of those that surround,
little than less, as in zero, to offer,
place of profit, the god over all
hollow you out,
so you can partake in the prosper

none of this matters to me,
more than you
but "bent", as in lop sided
is our relation, shipped truth

I've done all i could
and then did a little bit more
cuz i feel inside, deep, you are worth it,
but tell me, am i really little more
than an "oh yeah, you"
convenience store?

to drop in, out
as you please,
swift and quick
an "affection atm"
that you get all for free
without even having
to whip out your dick

now that's a good deal,
damn sweet, it is
kinda like a dream come true
that you never even had to waste,
a wish

but here's the thing,
i am losing trust, you
there are plenty of ways
to get fucked, yes
that might even include a spread
for the screw

that shit comes cheap, and easy,
not you..
never have i seen you as anything
but remarkable, true

and that's what, yes,
i deserve back too
there is only one of us here
who has not given much,
still has a heaven of a lot
left to prove

of your word,
i am starting to question it's worth
as i walk amongst the trees
follow your footsteps, soiled earth..

trying to understand you
in a way most would not
because i see you
as one in a million

but based on recent history,
you seem to see me as someone
easily "back pocketed", and even easier
forgot

same old story, doesn't work,
not with you
trust is like truth, both begin t-r-u
so figure out if i matter,
somewhere inside,
I've sensed you feel the answer
yes, we both know,
i am, yes, in love with you
and, final time,

it's not my fault, I'm not a girl
but in some ways you still like it
and that doesn't seem
to really matter to you...

but then it does
and you distance me,
back burner

i may be a love fool,
but believe me,
i am quick studied learner

so figure it out,
what you want and can give
cuz even a fool can see
i am gold, as is my love for you
and so I'm calling bullshit
this is no way for the long haul
to continue to give my all
or to live


bowen hart roselli
12 july 2020
ringwald love