life beyond me,
filled with mysterious
beautiful things
all the things my limited blindness
can't see
awareness, when beyond this psyche,
I'm freed

investigations
the difference,
the forest from the woods
the fine line between all the "cant'"
and the "could"

been one way
for far too long
opening the wounds
to release the poison,
get on...

acceptance, silence
internal predispositions
to self-doubt, hatred, violence
of the eviscerate my internal state
the fear, the worry i arrived, too late

to recognize, I'm "all in my head"
want, learn to live, before i am dead
learning to listen,
i can hear, listen, him
something in him, somehow speaks
to the thirsty soul,
there is life, sea of stars, beyond me

i never set out, goal
"I'm gonna see people, surroundings
in the negative,"
but reality, hardships, took,
yes, their toll
and "pin holed" the prism,
the telescope of sight, my soul

became from widescreen, panoramic
to something hyper-focused
on "survival mode", no dynamic
ability to see the magic, the wonder
as this scarring scope,
pulled me further inward, and under

the labyrinth, abyss
inner focused, within
all my pain, all my mistakes
all the "wrong path", darkened mistakes

oppressive worlds,
depressive swirls
of the ugly, the shame
an acute inability to thrive
amongst the opportunity, the game

just not my thing, not very good
as in terrible at navigating,
the "how to be" and
"ways of the would"
make it farther if i only could
get past the inherent awkward of me
beyond fractured psyche,
shifts, kaleidoscopic, engulfing
self-distrust, "set me free"

and...then..something..strange..
inherently sweet, nucleus good,
happened, changed

before i knew it, could see
what was happening
he came, arrived
to erase the words, the definitions
the limited perspectives,
rearranged

opened my eyes,
my landscape, self lies
so ingrained, so small, in their scope
brought forth, in his presence
some sort of "moved",
the teardrops whispered... hope

a feeling, vulnerability
i had long left behind
inward introspection
forever stuck, loops,
the past, in rewind

couldn't see much, called little
beyond "self"
not like i found,
amongst this beyond indescribably
beautiful man's dwell

not a god, just so touchingly human
present and sensitive and smart
multidimensional lumens
of light and fight and fearless
to be near this..

man, this wonder of quiet magic,
so powerful
the gift of life, not "things"
not anything,
more than the experience
of a connection, reciprocal
an alignment to the allowable

love.
of opening self
to the treasure, give pleasure
heart, one's inner being, to another
one who, soul essence,
is the "utter" in utterly
unlike any other

I'd ever witnessed, encountered
before
made all of my selfish, fade away
simply, sweetly not mean much
anymore

transcendence
there is so much left to explore..
delicate intricacies of trees, nature
water, open doors..

of mind and care
and newfound"nevers",
turned possible,in his "together",
a blindness, given sight,
strikingly naked, stripped bare

a desirous submission, clean
this engulfing feeling,
he, the worth, in need, hope to please,
opened, the skies, skin of sensual
soul healing

nothing untoward, revealing
a love like i have never quite known
It's real, it's alive
as more inside this transcendence
of tenderness shown..

he, the mystery, unfold
i could not have fathomed
could not have known
upon me, just near him

to the universe, enlightened
in him, i can feel it, if i let it
i am his, in that, i can feel him
like no other,
no, i am not here alone.

future, bright then.

if somehow he will, would
accept, embrace, allow this
there is no definition i can find for it
except, among, within his
extraordinarily beautiful...

bliss.

(this...just is...love, life, hope
masculine mesmerize, magic, heart)

transcendence


bowen hart roselli
27 july 2020
ringwald love 

moving through you,
moving through me
doubting all, that i feel, felt
have seen..

a sensitive soul, here,
a dangerous thing to be
sensitive as in skinless, exposed
to all the things that lie hiding, underneath

things, that most, don't want you to see
things, so haunting, they almost
cannot be believed

by eyes that search and seek,
for escape
of inner world realities
so fractured, lost
in a land full of falsehood and fake

he told me, ominously
"few, if any, have ever gotten as close
to me, as you"
the last night i saw him, face to face,
as with him, he took, all my sky,
bathed in blue

and left, a lingering mystery,
all it's own...
what is this feeling,
in my heart, found, you, "home"

and the sensation, enveloped,
my skin, soul, every pore
"heaven on earth"
as he stood before me, in "adored"

as in, just him being near me,
it filled me,
with some unfathomable feeling,
instilled me..

with some strange notion,
yes, he, "the one"
and now, in his absence
sifting the damage, now done..

as to why we lie, to ourselves,
seem to run
away, in the always,
what we seek, when it comes..
in forms and ways,
we do, and did, not expect
and yet, there we were,
an almost palpable assurance
of what would come next...

this time, for him,
i was the one, standing strong
seeing beyond self, for "the fight"
in it, "long"

the kind called, ending in "haul"
like the "forever", finally found,
in "the fall"
as if ears awakened to the sound,
"heed the call"

to a magic beyond both,
bruised and broken, understanding
seeking out the gods, "heavy lift",
helping handing

as nothing make sense,
as to "why", him, or now
i am haunted, the awareness
this, what "with" feels
when cut off, it's limb
and replaced with "without"

golden-hearted like an angel,
who lies like the devil
his hold, so warm,
when gone, it leaves you
disoriented, disheveled

lies that come, spill naturally
from a man, removed, his true self,
too blind to see

the effect they have, or he has,
proved
by the slain heart, ripped out
and handed to him, moved...

compelled to do so,
in reflection, the mirror
of a connection called "profound"
as if, for the first time,
i couldn't see or feel anything clearer..

and yet, disconnect and disavow
is all he knows
and so, the seeds of deny, deflect,
only grow...

which leaves me, this bleeding
of a heart haunted,
strangely, delicately, hopeful
as here within, throbs a man
the defining definition
of undefinable

as the "otherworldly" whispers
here, the ultimate in allowance,
we love to think we do,
our intellect, opinions offered, shown

but what exactly,
in the madness of logic,
do we really,
in the realm of fate and fallen,
forever, like heaven, truly know?


bowen hart roselli
16 june 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

 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 

the interpretation of others
the integration of stimuli
absorbed through eyes and ears
the mind
the taste, the touch, the senses
fractured

it's all energy encapsulated
absorbed
investigated
or not

thought distillations
arousal intimations
verbal cues
the masculine voice
for me, like heroine
in heroic form,
my crawl across the earth
left no choice

power and control
given, him, the go to
for the spectrum, give in
alive, somehow, in the realm
third dimension

he seems unaware
doesn't care
or plain, simple doesn't mind
amongst his full, bright sky,
passage, pulsate of time

not on his radar
not inherent to the value
his attentive adrenaline, aligned

but it doesn't change a thing
within
what's happened, occurred
this selfless surrender,
process, begun, what's to come..

or it's opposing view, selfish
dependent upon the view,
looking out
perspective is as awareness
becomes

expanded, retracted
some seek two
others, bathed and basking only
in one

as the state to relate
what a real life means
for myself, it's an other
to rip me open, like rapture
the bleed, pure, emotion
the love, verged extinction

selfish/selfless

i live surrounded this
devouring distinction.

masculine.
his.

in a way not felt, envisioned
experienced.

his silence and avoidance.
somehow clean,
thus my continuance

but if more to the truth
still, the heaven of this
alive wished intent,

still known

and adored
it's inherent allowance

whatever the reason

i hope, more than anything, yes
more than me,
the sum total all i sense, strive
believe

he welcomes it
someway

this becoming,
beautifully bruised
blooming reality

i feel as though
i can finally breathe.

and no matter what he will,
would, could or couldn't ask
i would rise every occasion
for him, up to the danger
the task

unmasked.

i have been.

no shame, no fear
in the silent surround

this man,

the lights within are alive
gun cocked, locked, protective

realizations
upon my readied soul
skin

endangered to his
permission/forgiveness
didn't ask/sought

delicately devious
divine
bond/bled



bowen hart roselli
9 september 2020
ringwald love 

 "when nothing has changed
in your life"...

-school of seven bells - heart is strange

when everything has changed
but nothing has changed
different location
different faces
different job
different "no job"
different friends, different spends
different "you", different truths

different dates
different dare to be hopeful
sit and waits
different, but
the same "forced" strangers
same awkward conversations
(so many people hiding so much anger)

same new ends
without any want
any chance for any kind
of anything, begin....

off the "dating" app treadmill
off the anti-social on social media spell
surgically opening my psyche,
"cracked hell",
looking back, trace the facts
for where it was i went wrong
and fell...

apart
inner crumble
took the wrong turn
as "the right one of course",
so i tumbled..

downward, inward
"warped pup, batter up"
to hit my ball, far out, left field
the fucked up shit we do to ourselves
in some bizarre attempt
to work through our wounds and heal

guess what?
the darkness, a devouring effect
and no prism of light,
is beheld, while gorgeous, to be perfect

so, the search, an infusion
of human allowance, flawed
more nuance, less illusion
chaotic chords, inner wiring, a mess
"the shit that arouses me,
when i get undressed"....

or,
a pavlovian dog
when the right voice, right vibe
his song spoke, silent knowing, sung
then my bell well oiled, conditioned
well groomed, salivate heart, rung...

"no one wants a bitch like you,
giving all your power so easily",
best friend says,
stings, confuses me with (his?) truth..

"i guess I'm a bit twisted,
so rare is the chance, I'll be loved,
but i mean well, so there's gotta be someone that gets me,
my kinda devoted, kinda bent, but wholehearted impassioned love"....

right?

no idea.
but it doesn't look good.
all the errors, mistakes
all of my perpetually
"too much" mixed with misunderstood

as i count all my failures,
fuck ups, within
the list, damn, it's long
"...yet...if...only..i..could"....

change my life...

I'm the only one
who can change my life..

from the inside out,
my mixed up wiring
that misinterprets meanings
that feels so many god damned
poetic, intense feelings...

about shit no one cares
molly ringwald's "fresh horses" poster stare
book of love's, they never made it,
fifth record
tatum o'neal's problematic past,
childhood, chequered...

and all the wounds
and scars of others,
the true friends, not friends
but really lovers

and the men, few, I've fallen
that i make, treat like gods
I'm worshipful
to that rare connect feeling
as in, it's a gift, and i know it
to me profound, so fuck me
"floored, so moved, hit the roof,
through the ceiling"...

met hundreds of guys, in my life,
fucked a third
so when i tell you, it's rare
to feel love,
i honestly give you my word

i may be broken,
but my word is not
all the liars and the loveless
the bullshit they reap,
it cannot be forgot

problem is, i confuse
feeling a sense of love,
at times, for finding it, love
but believe me,
I've paid, twice that price
and so what if my dick gets hard
over being called names
some would say are not so nice...

to each his own
on the "go it alone"
the lucky ones, they find it
with another, that sense of
being so, together, "at home"..

so yes, i am trying
take a true, transforming look inside
but the laws of a good man,
i will always strive, no matter how
damaged i am, in my head,
soul, to abide

change the bullshit i perpetuate,
my end
and to the ones i love
who read this shit

thank you, your time,
heart, precious to me,

and real affection, your reflection
of beautiful,

i send.


bowen hart roselli
10 september 2020
ringwald love