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 

maybe you like it
maybe you don't
maybe you will
maybe you won't

maybe it's me
maybe it's you
maybe it's false
maybe it's true

maybe we live
maybe we die
maybe we tell the truth
maybe we lie

maybe we fuck
maybe we hug
maybe we sweep it all...
under the rug

cuz maybe...
it's all just a little too much
of everything and nothing
"this n that, such n such"...

useless shit, heaven (don't) help us,
all around...
instead of focusing on each other
endless feeds, information, we drown

as more and more, days, years, fly by
keep shoveling shit down
overloaded, exhausted
depleted of depth,
we no longer even try...

to pretend it matters
the pretend, all around..
maybe it doesn't
that in the shallow we drown..

just don't invite me
to a god damn "cuddle party"
there is nothing in that "touchy feely"
garbage, even worth a "maybe"
thought starting..

I'd rather take a punch, in my ass
cuz that's real..
cuddle with a stranger?
no thanks, fake affection
is worse than real aggression,
animalistic, the feel...

for maybe that has it's place
more than we realize
in a safe, constructive way
release the pent up rage
in our thighs..

release the stress, release the strain
maybe not pretending this place
"so great", eases shame

of having to "maybe" so much,
maybe now
we can get back to basics,
communicate clearly, to each other,
maybe, "wow!"..

how's that for a thought
some things, real treasures
cannot be bought

real friends, real lovers
real magic, real others..

maybe they wouldn't be so rare,
if aware
that the "here with you now"
isn't always going to be

it's a fucking gift
so maybe...

start there.


bowen hart roselli
4 september 2020
ringwald love

 

lover in a loony bin
leave me there
and come back when

i am cured of all my shit
made "stepford wife" for a new begin

perfectly posed
and propped up, for pleasure
alive to be your goldmine, treasure
not pooped out, you,
from the onslaught of me
all the overwhelm
my infinite emotions, they bring..

exhaust to your pipes,
your stars and your stripes
that wave so proudly,
like in the air, shines your flag
shot down by the drag that is me,
gushing fag

flooding,
with all my pent up emotions
elusive, are the wanted
not lap dog bitches filled, devotion

puppies are cute, but get old,
really quick
no wonder i never found
any good, strong "stick around" dick

never learned my lessons
so i walk around all bruised and used
second guessin'
every word and thought i expressed
while the lucky
are busy gettin' down, undressed

fucking and sucking
on tit, pussy, cock, ass
while all i get is over,
as in looked,
"uh, no thanks, I'll pass"..

huh?
jesus christ,
doesn't anyone want
any real love anymore?

better yet,
its coming from someone
gutter minded, well trained,
a turned out, filthy whore

i can be that, and so much,
all the more
but all i seem to get,
is the perpetual wave,
as in goodbye, out the door

so gotta change it up,
gotta pill it, pop it
whatever it takes, to finally see
enough's enough

cuz eight sure wasn't
as in ate the dust, as in angel,
he ain't bluffin'

eight is enough,
for some, sure, that's true
but eight ain't the right age
to think you learned
how to bend, to be even better
as the neighborhood, backyard
blue boy, slam him, screw

as my guardian, think angel,
looked, ran, bolted,
"outta there", in shame

lover in a loony bin
look at me, mirror,
i have someone else to be,
but no else not blame...

gotta get rid of that,
that thing, in the chest
no matter, the majority
i make, my mistake
the ever all mighty fucking priority
tame it, tamp it, down, let it go
or else i will, yes, forever
be the un-fucked, un-kissed,
unloved minority

of weirdos who think
being open, raw, ever devoted, is good
might as well carve out,
a pathway to hell
on a piece of tossed out, rotted wood

kinda like my belief system, ingrained
it ain't doing shit to get me done
while all the others,
are all out, having fun

tasting each other,
tongues, lips, locked, entwined
as i sit here, alone in the dark
a sixteen, forty-eight year old
hoping and praying,
some sweet bad boy "be mine"

it's get on out there
and play it, the game
even if, left empty inside afterward
that's just what you get,
for "the get", for "the gain"

cuz lessons they hurt,
but damn, the pleasure in the pain...

lover in a loony bin
time to leave there now and live,
a more attractive, cock worthy catch,
but underneath hiding,
a devoted, bitch for love, fool
different name, beating heart,
trapped inside, just the same....



bowen hart roselli
23 september 2020
ringwald love

addicted to escape
yeah, I'll blame it on a rape
one that lasted too damn long
i guess it takes being weak
to know you're strong...

don't get me right
cuz I'm plain, a pussy, fucking wrong
seems everything i say and do
seems, like sand, through the hand,
it falls through...

to the point
of what, again, is the point?
some roll, a hay, some roll a joint
some grab a beer,
some drown in tears
me, i guess, i just live in fear
so sick of that,
so what's next is unclear

I'd kill to be pounded and pumped,
like the town
that was the gas station,
"the towne pump", smile, from frown

things seem so glamorous
when they're not my life, me
seems everything is better,
not embodied, in the embodiment
of me, all i see...

just an addict of him
he, an addict of her
she an addict of insult
and status, self worth..

what's money gonna do
at the end of a life
absolutely nothing,
but sure causes so much pain,
so much slavery and strife...

aah!, but wisdom, it comes
as all the bullshit, it goes
cash, the eternal pain in the ass
but with comes security, less sweat
"please don't ask"...

how i know this, how i don't
what I'll put up with,
what i won't...

a little affection and abuse
the right way, deadly combination
to my safe, my locked box within
that makes me feel, sweet fuck
salivate sensations...

the ones, like lick the ground
he walks on..
as he walks on me,
twisted, gets my rocks off

cuz warped and wounded
is what i do best
so he does me that way too
and now I'm addicted, i confess

but it's not what you think
more "sweetheart", less stink
up this place with garbage,
doesn't matter
all he says, was and is
moves me
to a place beyond shattered

beyond all the stupid things
that distraction does bring
focused, him, favorite one
lessens the sorrow,
enlightens the sting

on my lips, twice bitten
and my hips, not yet ridden
by his mount of a dangerous, divine
its only, somehow,
just a matter of time...

alive now more
than i ever could believe
inside incredible fascination
of what he might feel
of my give, his receive

some things, so strange
to be too easily understood, believed
all i know is, all i know
stripped and stolen,
still, the night, his retrieve

of all the knowledge, all the facts
all now silent, waiting
addicted
and all he has to do is take

dominion.

or if a gentleman,

ask.


bowen hart roselli
18 april 2020
ringwald love 

 oh..i get it...I'm a people person..aah.

people person, pleaser, plucked
from the depths, despair, then fucked
around and with and deep, then up
bound, determined, to face my shit,
bad luck...

born and worn and torn, aplenty
mad mind, haunted by the far
and the many
who came (dirty mind) and conquered,
saw and not...
most just didn't bother much,
then forgot...

but really, some did, they tried
can't lie
but ran for the hills,
what's behind these kind eyes
twists and turns
and fire, wound, burns
think more "rug", less hug
and a lifetime of lessons,
"not quite" well learned

it's like going back to poison,
expecting it to be pretty
it's like a skin crawl, bat, ball
in the dug outs, leaving body,
while sitting...

knowing, god help me,
my forced turn at bat
with all the boys laughing,
disgusted, "that's not a dude,
that's a faggot, look at that"..

"he's so scared, limp wristed, a girl,
if he fucks this up, he's gonna get it,"
hair, back of neck then curls

i wanted to do good,
but i sucked, just not them
a miserable wimp, failure
let the beating up
and the torture begin..

because of course,
i struck out
long before i learned
about putting out..

but guys my own age
never did me like that
"that's what pedo's and mexicans
are for"
sorry, just the truth, where i sat

honestly, nothing racist implied
the majority back then,
who liked to slip on my slide
happened to be of that race
and persuasion, and if it was different
i would tell you,
just not part of my equation..

sure, of course, a few white guys
who taught me, told me
more than a few "white lies"
"now I'm gonna stick this,
where the sun don't shine"..
"and something in the way you walk
like a girl, tells me you won't mind"

i didn't, but i did
i hated it, but hid
all the pain, "please, let me die"
first lesson you learn,
don't you dare ever cry...

"just wanted someone to like me",
but really not them..
i realize now, i was secretly in love
with my best grade school friend jim

but he didn't know
all inside was for hiding, so..
what do you do, where do you go?
child of the 70's, in the 80's
when pangs of puberty grow

couldn't tell a soul
and damn, the things i let done
to my hole
and even worse,
my mouth, my mind
that's just the deal, a boy
born of "my kind"..

bushes, creeks and mattresses,
no sheets
walking home, far out, my body
just like holly, i guess everybody's
got a purpose or a hobby

ran inside,
child of bad tv movie,
borderline suicide...
got my blades,
not roller, but razor

cut good and quick
i shaped up to be one hellavu shaver
of my wrists, my chest, my throat
"slit boy, slut toy",
well kept secret saver...

but that got old
my compelled, let, molested
so had to move on
to greater masochistic tendencies,
tasks, invested...

like looking for love,
in "beyond wrong", the places
long ago i fell out of favor,
"god's loving graces"...

so bars it was,
and back alleys, the same
searching for my "bad boy angel"
big surprise, he never showed,
never came...

so, people pleaser i was,
then, always
boys, girls, beautiful
they littered the haunt
of my heart laden hallways

as giving of love and sweet
my only salvation
to lift another up,
the lonely hell here,
my only sense of real starlit elation

but that's not the way
that many are
i guess you gotta go through hell
to understand the value of scars

scars inflicted by myself, first
and others
it's hard to recognize sometimes
who are the liars
and who are the lovers

but find the few i did..
so lets here then, rip the lid
off the lesions for the lessons
I've had my share
of "heart melt belong" blessings

in times, at the brink,
couldn't take it anymore
whether it was life
or the boys' taunts or all the shit
i did, become, "bleed the whore"...

encapsulated in these names, divine
the "book of love" in my heart,
love of life, i got to be me
eyes of mine, enshrined...

christy, christopher, christina, eric
tania, terah, julie, catherine
the heights, emblematic, the others unnamed, esoteric

loves of mine, so magically drenched
with soul and a "god-like" touch,
heaven sense...

all of these few
and a goddess kitten too..

not bad for a people pleasing,
self defined "tortured homosexual",
bathed in blue

not ever quite really here,
but in them i was seen, somehow real
and so in love, so endeared

a boy born to self-hate, take shit
and be terribly confused by it all...

kind of awkward, kind of "out there"

but touched beyond real heaven
and the stars..

who knew?

and all that matters, in the end,
was them

not the bad shit.
in a rebellion born of "bad fit"
and all the "people pleasing" batshit

of my crazy/cuckoo path
started in youth and damn me, if it didn't end there..

that's the truth.


bowen hart roselli
18 september 2020
ringwald love

straight to the core,
the essence, my soul
no games, no garbage,
no masks, no roles

your arrow it shot there
and pierced, unexpected
absolutely nothing
the same since
looking out, all reflected

as being either
stupid and meaningless,
hollow, detached
or the opposite
three dimensional
electric ebullience, unmatched

new discoveries
puzzle pieces, foliage
forest trails, hideaways
blind to so much
and never realizing, knowing this..

you
have the most beautiful face
i have ever seen
mysterious, majestic
eyes, lips
fascinating beyond belief

seems we are opposite,
but in wander ways, the same
my emote, your remote
this heart, now yours,
bruised yet emboldened
tumultuously tamed

don't want it?
don't know
cannot change it
the truth is, has only grown

a force, a fire
blazed far beyond me
all i know is all i see
and i see you, feel you so deeply
so delicately, profoundly
utter, "the other", bathed in
brilliance, beautifully

your silence
treading torturous
yet all i know, want
"more of this"
with a "please" so genuine,
raw, and pure

i know you can feel it
not used to it, me, unsure
what to do with, make of it
the mark

you never intended
but it's here now, your art
tattooed, branded, invisible ink
some things, like stars
just are, no need overthink

beyond sex, beyond skin
beyond time, beyond end

you,
the most incredible, indelible
my sky
all i do is search for words
but they all come back to
beautiful
that's why

i can't and don't
look away or stray
like an intricate novel
not a one act play

there are two here, yes
as in, this involves the within
of taken, and so into you, me

you
have changed me
altered me
surrounded, entranced
the tallest trees
as i gaze up, awestruck
you, the tallest one
in my universe now

you
are all i see

unwaveringly.

acceptance of truth
the center, now placed
i never came, come harm you
dismantle, disarm you

all i wish, all i hope
this heart, your allowance
yes, it's yours
and i feel, sweet somewhere,
you know it

so just let it be and breathe
covet, love it
and without words

claim and own it.

not dirty, not unworthy
not like anyone or anything
come before

you
the most beautiful man
i never knew i would know

there it goes, back to beautiful
the last word on my lips
spoke with depth drowning assurance
that i can ever be, in complete,
hold of confidence

you
all i hope
one day
to be in the presence, passion of again

that's all that matters to me now...
a man, because i can say that

without reservation, fear
or any ounce, trace of doubt

you.

the love pour
i shine, bleed
contusions a condition

still, i get up again
stand
and give out,
heart swells, the admission

more
of this unending, soul sending
beautiful you

adore.

with your unplanned, unasked
yet all seeing eyed,
silent knowing

permission.


bowen hart roselli
17 september 2020
ringwald love

doesn't matter
if I'm straight or I'm gay
cuz you don't give a fuck
about me, either way

doesn't matter
if i swallow when i blow
cuz out of your mind,
i am, when you go

doesn't matter
if i bend, spread, far as possible
cuz wiped, your hands clean of me
once your stain released, washable

no "ancient chinese secret, huh?",
needed.
"calgon didn't take me away",
the gods repeated..

you just left, walked out that door
cuz you can't bring home to momma
a "found and almost fisted once"
faggot friend or slightly semi-honorable ex-whore

one who ate all your shit,
wanted more
ate, as in took,
it wasn't that kind of adore

cuz that's plain wrong,
no matter how you slice it
but i guess, "to each his own"
for the rock, and the roll of the dice, it

took a chance on you
you shot your chute in me
not literally, but figuratively
and now inside you're all i see..

the first to feel, is the one to flee
or so they say, but with you and me
it was the reverse, a curse?
that shit dispelled now, and over

cuz this ain't the end
i have yet to find out,
you, a shower or grower?

i have yet to be grabbed
by the neck, deeply kissed
with the force of a fire,
one that burns, deeply missed

you upon me,
you not wanting to see
that this shit is real
tender, rough, magic found,
"even steven", even keel

torn, us both
but together, quite sweet
so I'll take it,
however you want it,
like it, in the sheets

don't need the nasty
as much as i just, damn, need you
but a little verbal abuse,
wouldn't hurt,
as in call me your fuck boy,
your bitch, when we screw

then love me more after
and treat me right,
cuz I'm yours

and i will, actually
get down on my knees
not only to give you blow jobs
but to properly spic-n-span
the floors

so, take me home to momma,
you won't
but that doesn't mean
that there's doom in the don't...

ask or tell,
it's all fine with me
I'm good, "less please", the labels

and even better without them,

hopefully one day,
you'll see...


bowen hart roselli
7 september 2020
ringwald love

 25 lies because i love you:

doesn't hurt
doesn't matter
I'm not sad
I'm not mad
no worries
no problem
no promises
no big deal
no hard feelings
maybe next time
maybe later
maybe someday
it was fun
it was nothing
it wasn't important

whenever
whatever works
shit happens..

i understand
i get it
i knew it
i forgot it

it's fine
it's all good
it's cool.....

25, myself and you,
protecting lies

but my love for you
not a lie, just....

the truth.

my thing
my fault
my shit
my bad
my part

my heart.

my stars,
(the one's in my eyes for you)

the eternal question,
solely mine, yours or ours?

we tell ourselves, each other
lies to alleviate
the pain, the sting, the fear
of the scars....

because if life is for living
and living means something

remotely, remarkably even close
to the truth, of a deep emotion felt, throbbing, loving

then truly caring can be hard
to comprehend
which is why so many get scared,
run away, or live in the land of so many
called pretend

and the biggest lie,
that means the love ain't that real at all
is the kind that's easy,
handed out like "the party treats",
they are pleasing..

it may be easy to fall
but in the long run..
to stick around, put the effort, time
work in,

it's all....

a heaven of a hell of a lot harder
than we want to perceive
that's why the real thing
contains real give, real receive

real want, respect, soul sensitivity
to another's risk, the hope
reciprocal variations, vulnerability

and is almost like a miracle,
modern day, here now
the kind, when it strikes you
it almost cannot be comprehended...

"bruise me beautifully",
barely believed.

that someone like you

could happen to me.

(love comes in many formations,
like constellations of stars, the ones in my eyes,
you refuse to allow yourself, in your own eyes, to see)...



bowen hart roselli
1 october 2020
ringwald love 

 
be right, be wrong
be weak, be strong
be a total jerk, or a total not
be all the things ya want, or forgot

be sensitive, be sharp
be detached, be dark
be light, be lost
be found, be not

anything but your damn divine self
throw my spirit to heights past stars
or drag me down to the depths of hell

call me psycho
or whatever you want
just never wanna be to you,
"that cunt"

that causes rolls of eye, "not again"
as in, "what now",
"does he want", chiming in...

via text, via mail,  "the e" or "the snail"
via voice, here, no choice
you're the shit that makes the sun
warm, rejoice

shining down like a beam, enveloping
a striking awareness,
life all around me, developing

be sorrowful, enraged
be unkind, uncaged
be sweet, be provoking
in your thoughts, be stoking

all the fires, the embers, admired
you, the one thing
i could never seem to run from
or tire

even if ya wear me down
at times, that's just a part
of the deal, what's been found...

be broken, be bruising
be straight, be confusing
be present, then gone
be short, then long

be together, as in "with it"
be befuddled, as in "out of it"
be the pre-game show, be the start
be sometimes, touchingly torn apart

but please, my fucked up, for you, heart

don't you ever, the gift, you, leave
be whatever it is you are, want, need

I'll say thank you, I'll say please
there is no shame, only strength
no need...

to be anything beautifully
except the "just be you"

that's all i care
cuz your magic, can't help it
to me, that's just truth.

doesn't have to make sense
or be, like science, exacting, understood
doesn't have to be either
all bad, all scary, all good

some shit just is
and you, yes, by far
the brightest, found, my universe
of stars

so if you need,
go ahead and leave scars

I'll take them in and tend to em, proud
all you've allowed, thus far,
on a cloud
sometimes grey, sometimes "nine"
never cheap, never lame,
it's like you say, "legit", all the time

be you, bruise or bleed me, ok....

but at the end of the day
just you being you
it all feels pretty damn,
soul set ablaze for you,

heart,
"man of good n plenty",
just fine.


bowen hart roselli
30 september 2020
ringwald love

if I'm a doormat,
you're a door
forever swinging open, closed
you can't figure out,
I'm not the thorn, I'm the rose

nothing you are used to, it seems
I'll take all your shit,
and kinda enjoy it
as you rip me open, at the seems

cuz no one moves me,
shakes me like you,
and in this shallow world
depth of feeling, loyalty, disposable
i came here to show you
someone delivering the goods,
organically
not full of filler, plastic and posable

so it may be twisted, "psycho"
according to you,
and yeah, i kinda liked it
when you called me that too

cuz it was a compliment, endearing
coming from you
you can call me anything you want
just please, don't stop calling me,
It's true...

i felt we had an extraordinary connection
you think I'd act this way
for just anyone,
as if i made it all up in my head,
the detection

that an exchange occurred
an energy, one of a kind
born of two humans, good hearts
who, by the way, just so happened
to have completely lost
their fucking minds...

seems pretty sane,
to me, in this world
place of so much garbage,
for so little gain
no wonder I've come
to a little pleasure in pain

cuz anything worth having,
so they say, takes some work
so go ahead and be
what you gotta be,
sometimes sweet, then a detached jerk

cuz i know I'm not easy
and neither are you
us humans, we're complicated
beyond your proclamations
of "chill", that's only part of the truth

as you've got your troubles
and I've got my bubbles
like the one you like to burst,
called "love" and the other
called "hate to" with your truth,
stings, still stung

towards sticking around
no matter your "what"
as in, "did you just say that?
yes you did"...
giving new meaning to
the flip, as in lid..

i love your "sunny",
mr. charlie, mac, dennis, frank
i guess that leaves me, sweet dee
always trying to one up,
catch up, join your ranks

cuz your the "always in"
like the tv theme, philadelphia
how the heaven, the hell
did ya think it wasn't real,
all the ways that i fell for ya..

a tune so cute,
it just begs for mischievous,
so right, then so wrong
just like all your inner divine
dipped in devious

and there's nothing wrong with that
as there's nothing wrong with you
at least nothing that a little
understanding and a loving
"fuck you" and time, devotion
can't prove

as we are so very different
but I'm sorry to say, yes,
underneath, i am a lot like you

so there's little i can say about you
that i can't say, the same for me too

"quite a pair" is still a pair
if you'd just let it be
however it fits, in your world,
"strange ways" heart
there was, is, "a something"
that happened to both of us
called a "we"

no big scary,
"to be ashamed of" thing
just know that i know
and I'm not afraid of whatever
your "bring it on" brings

so if ya want, bring the tacos
and I'll bring the chips
and if i get on your last nerve
you can bring the desire to
to flat out fatten my lip

not that you would
but just know in mind, spirit, ya could
cuz i can be, times, a bit too much
but I'd do anything for ya
end of day, that's found luck...

so once more
if I'm a doormat
you're then, a door
but you can't slam it shut
without knowing, it wasn't real
all i gushed, gave, felt
in the state of a deep, thankful
utter "bliss found, fucked", adore

both of us battling
a hella, lotta, inside, inner shit
but all i ever really wanted, want to do
was, is, sit beside, in front of you
and listen and glow,
grow a better hearted, human
happier, because of it...

because, the secret,
in many ways I'm a selfish,
scarred deep, prick
but not for you, cuz you got through
to the best in me,
the center, it seems
and here you rest, stay
what a treat, not a trick...

so please, mr. door
just stay open, a bit
let the doormat become
a fellow door, next to you
and make a double one
that somehow, in whatever way
together, works, fits...


bowen hart roselli
26 september 2020
ringwald love