a penchant for the overly complicated,
I guess that's why
I desire to be dominated

just tell me what you fucking want
and do it straightforward,
no fraudulent fronts

no wishy-washy,
back and forth
my mind broken, it needs
to succumb, your force

but it's not in the way, you think
I'm not some game or "role play" twink
you've gotta have heart
and you must feel love
and if you can feed my starved psyche
then you'll see, I'm yours
and I will never get enough

of you, your story,
your sadness and glory
your faults, your flaws
your twists and turns,
in me, you will find
the perfect combination of "behold" and "burn"

as in a fire, burning bright, your yearn
some might say, "just a delusional fool"
the kind, made of love,
blind and stupid, "I'll never learn"

the lessons that keep haunting me,
again and again,
all the faces, once past
that I know, in sadness, I will not
once more, see

to feel such love
but cannot feel it, flowing back,
in exchange
a malady that torments my mind,
kind of good, but somewhat delicately deranged

I only know, what I can feel for you
but never understand that you
might feel it back, for me, too

and so I go to extremes to try
to come to terms
with what lies behind my eyes

a mind in shards,
a "heart of glass",
for most they'll say,
"yeah, I'll take a pass"...

to much work and too much pain
inside "too damaged",
marked by the strain

of just trying to make sense
of a non sensible world
you're fucked from the get go,
if can't even be sure,
if you're either a boy, or a girl

got the parts and look of a man
but the psyche, "fragile, vulnerable"
like the archetype. "the girl"
forever waiting,
just to "stand by her man"

yeah, that's "old school",
but remember, I'm a fucking fool
whose belief that there was
a "one and only",
has left me aged, and alone,
in my lonely

ness, that hurts and throbs, like hell
some of us, not the same story,
to tell...

not the ones that we wanted, but got
when dreams, they never come true,
when sought

they say you gotta give
and fight for what you want
i've done it and tried
and time and again, I have died.

"survivor", yes
but exactly, what for?
to watch another beautiful face,
pass by, walk away, part my front door

yes, there are times,
I just don't think, I can take it anymore
what's left to become,
once you've already been
an utter failure and a whore?

at life, at success
tired of being a god damned mess
but once you know
the damage, "has been", done
where do you run, for escape,
once "no fun"

all the things you thought
you believed
the ones who came not to give,
but deceive

the ones who offered, tell me
how to feel and how to heal
but didn't stick around
once I could not, at their alter,
of "tossed off cliche'" bullshit, kneel

some, I suppose, are just "too real"
to belong here, the banished
from "the straight, even keel"

the ones that just want to think
for themselves,
trust me, that's a sure invitation to hell

the hell of being awake and "wide"
open to seeing all the game
and the lies

but fuck me, (you won't)
for believing, some man, soul, out there
who could handle me, want to be free
to drown in the love, "unwavering"

devotion, this ocean of heart
that swims and soars,
in the hope and possibility of "we"

(found and lost,
he slips, forever, through my hands)

I guess I'm just a "born to walk alone"
half-man.

(but oh, what I wouldn't give, to dare,
just once, this time, please be, prove me, finally, wrong)


bowen hart roselli
31 march 2020
ringwald love

for the unexpected magic of you
like a dream I never knew I had,
come true

for every moment, big and small
that I felt I belonged, in your presence,
that's all

that it's about, someone like me,
in the end
like a valentine, childlike mind,
drenched in hearts, to the sky, I send

to you, you fucking beautiful soul
the hours spent, talking,
revealing, all the more

that as different as we are,
we are, uncommonly, the same
I felt your fire, I soaked in your pain

because that's what souls
who connect, can do
every thought you uttered
somehow, reached right through

all my walls and all my fears
raised me to rapture,
reduced me to tears

that just when I believed,
no more beauty, could be found
you appeared, out of nowhere
lifted the clouds, there, I found

all my wrongs and all my rights,
a reason for all those sleepless nights
anxiety shaken, true living, forsaken
somehow, something in you,
so inspired me, awakened

my want and hope and heart,
to give,
as if your energy, radioactive

pulling me closer, and further apart
at the seams, like a mystic, "your mark", your art

of resonating truth,
not in just what you say,
but what you do
being so kind, as if born
not of this place or of this time
forgive me, for the times
it confused and rattled my mind

brought out things
that might've scared you away
It's just my heart, so full, your song
so I felt compelled, "please stay"

the feeling like I, just want you around
all the time, it's crazy,
"not the norm",
this drown

in the wonder, and mystery
and so strangely affecting,
that's you

like I'd give anything,
for you to feel and believe me
it's true

not just words
and not just lies
those immeasurably haunting,
sweet, fucking "gorgeous glow" eyes

and all your moods
and all your masks
all the times
you took my bullshit
to task

as I did you,
and we worked through,
two trainwrecks just trying
to find our place in the sun,
"shine through"...

all the mundane
and the attempts, etched, "in vain"
all the days, that seemed, "kill me"
"the same old, same old", the same

but no day, ever
with you, was a bore,
and no love I gave,
ever felt like a chore

it felt like, I, the luckiest guy,
In the world,
to witness you before me,
no one else, in this world

at all, like you
you mean so god damned much,
but really its "blessed",
that's why, filled, deep sadness, I'm touched

that you're not here,
and I'm not there

and together we're not
getting or going anywhere

as, that's what I believe,
I see it, shining, in you
you're the kind, call it "fonzie like", "cool"
just to do anything and nothing
like we were kids in grade school

so, no matter if you get it,
or feel the same, understand
I just need to thank you,
stand up, be a man

not caught up in whether
you will stick around, our endeavor
that's just what, my heart wants,
of course,
how could it not,
let there be no regrets, or remorse

I've said it all, and I'll say it again
I love you, god damn it,
be me a freak, or a friend

be me whatever it is,
and all apologies,
my "overwhelm"
it's not meant to harm,
or invade, your space, charmed

it's just that you matter
so much,
I'm disarmed

so carry that with you,
and I hope, like heaven,
you return

but if not,
I thank you,
for all you gave, in soul kind,
I learned

yes, there still, is a heaven on earth
I felt it, pulsate, flow through me
standing next to you, worth

more than anything,
more, than "priceless", can convey
this sadness just means
written, in my heart, is your name,
and, yes, fucked forever,
here and now,
you,
will somehow always remain



bowen hart roselli
30 march 2020
ringwald love

mouths lie, actions lie
be careful, please, who makes you cry
are they worthy?
are they right?
as in, the real version of them,
they say they are
land of wounded, thoughtless scars

integrity is
as who stands before you, was
"i'm just saying this, and acting, because"
you are this,
so i'm that too
too many don't know the sky, from blue

searching for a kindred
someone to build, this
a life, look back,
"it all began with"....

first hello,
and heart, locked eyes
depth and silence
no games, no lies

but we all play games,
"can't help it", but true,
prisoners, insecurities
once one sees right through

to the pain, the strain,
the fully exposed, vulnerability
god knows, you don't know the secrets within me

take a chance,
"at least you tried",
be careful, the wish, the risk,
you've died

once again, and twice, once more
every day aging, fearing what's in store
old and alone
never finding what you seek
existing, not living
there passes by,
yet another truly beautiful, but broken, dream

embodied in body
be it man, be it woman
something so rare, there is nothing to prove, then

very few listen, love
focus, if at all, very long
on anyone but "their stuff", themselves
so grow, the weak, in shame, hide, the strong

how many deride all the shallow, "the social"
never stop, soak in soul,
attention diverted,
only truly comfortable,
"the vacuous vocal"

yet then run to it,
like, it's the only reality "that fits"
souls and minds parceled, projected in bits
and reject the love,
standing there, in the flesh
that which

causes "the run", to stop,
feel and see
some, out there, do, actually get you
want nothing, "no take"
just the give, touched, so moved

as in actions and words
speak the softest, when true
combined, "takes time"
it's a process, slow
like "the ache" in "the grow"

up,
we once, wanted so bad to "be big"
then we get there and go,
"wait, is this actually it?"

where's all the heaven?
where's all the heart?
guess what, it takes risk
but most ruin, and betray,
of the art

to stick around
and stay for "the long"
haul, it's hard, and it's work
right the wrongs

inflicted on me, i feel it,
too, inflicted on you
so then multiply that,
and get conflicted, times two

easier, succumb,
back to alone
hiding hearts, hiding, homes
glamorizing the search,
the stoic, "it's always ends up better, and easier, on my own"

self imposed purgatory partners
we pick at the scabs and destroy what we've grown

to need, to want
for the ease of "the front"
that "it's all good", and
"it didn't hurt much"

somehow my kiss
on your forehead
as you cried, left it's touch

on me, in a way
felt remarkably human
just the thought, i just may, could have helped, given soothing

but it came to be, "the bleed"
me, you did not want to see
the bloom forward, blossom
alter "the feel", re-alignment of "we"

got it.
felt it.
you are at a distance now,
sadness swells, your "leave"
amongst the ownership of my own problematic
misbegotten, mispercieve

i now sift through the wreckage,
what part you, what part me?

both of us searching, and running
from something
but found ourselves
standing still,
pure moments fulfilled,
more "the bond",  less "the wanting"

for that "illusion out there"
for the reality, found
connective, guard down, reflective, brief, understandings, aware

in friendship, in kinship
every lasting memory
it builds, it bonds, it starts, from there

every lasting "anything"
it requires a mutual risk,
for reward
it demands, both stand
make the effort, fight the war
in the end, about trust
find you, safe, in me, all the more

and me, in you, too
that is called "our thing" true
but if not, then, search  clues
something in your silence,
questions me, unknowingly
there may be nothing left to prosper, our "improve"

yet i'm still here
it was the truth, this "endeared"
and believe me, it's not easy
to care this much, without fear

that all the yesterday hauntings
of hurt and wound, and turn away, strike again
but the experience, it happened
now just a lasting, lingering question

was it, is this, real, in the end?

you can say it wasn't
but that "something"
haunts me, touched,
what was it?

as "was", can be "is"
if not so scared, let's begin...

(my friend, my foe, if you run, we'll never know)




bowen hart roselli
30 march 2020
ringwald love

apocalypse, present, upon us
virus spreading,
deepening the "dead-in-head thing"
amongst the never were,
really very much alive
but now they're shitting
what little was left of them
decimated toilet paper aisles,
a symbolic reflection of their insides

heroic health care workers
fighting the only fight
that matters right now
all those god damned "super hero"
movies, guess what, that shit
it can't save us now

and what exactly is the only thing
aside from the goddess kitten,
that I care of, or am thinking. stupid thoughts, sideways of smitten?

I'm thinking about
the one thing, person
I am now, within, without

some astounding guy
who rapturous rebellion
makes me question everything
I thought a gave two fucks about

they say love finds you
when you least expect it
nothing could have told me
when I got in his car
the whispers were there,
although quite soon, I detected

something in
his silently unfathomable eyes
sadness, depth, light and hope
glowing frame
brought together, we
on some path, we found,
nothing but a mouse chase game
both seeking escape,
we found more of the same

or
when the right hand doesn't know
who the left hand, is trying to kill
"now go here, and now go there"
nothing was real,
except this man, made of feel

his face, the kind, that art had made
different angles, different facets
profile, film star, golden age
front view, fascinate
corner angle, broken babe
seeping with empathic, introspective
delicate rage

a rattler, railer
against society
it's demand to force a "credit card cage"
work and work and do it some more
all to climb imaginary ladders,
no afford

ability
"it's killing me",
he, or, I, or we,
who said it
entwined in the experience
destined to be a
"too bizarre to ever quite forget it"

remembrance
filled with disgust and the slow drip, divine
the majority, divine, came from him,
those electric, patriotic, "pop" proud eyes

filled with so much more
than he'd ever let on
part "red cross heart",
part well skilled con

artist
in the art
of playing the part
but only to the point
once his x ray eyes
had sized up every person and exit sign
in the joint

so many facets and furies,
deep inside
i slowly realized there was no "run", me, or hide

I could never be bored
he, the impossible to be, or allow
state, "ignored"

as on and on and on
he'd bestow
upon me
all that he felt, thought, knows

this, my friends,
is how love grows
something I'm not sure even
his wise/blind knows

wise in too many ways, to count
yet blind, to the affect,
his magnetic "man mount"

as in, 1+1, minus two, leaves zero
self destructive,
his ability to calculate, castigate
inner hero's

of heart,
for sacrifice,
on the alter, "mathematical"
contradicting all, inherent,
his "magical"

it must be perfect
as his perceptions, plans, laid out
or it's nothing at all
once the seeds bloom, sprout doubt

and so we drove,
til we ended up confined,
ultimately trapped together,
in the final act, both losing our minds

locked behind doors
as a plague began to spread,
musing on life, the wonder of death
strained by whores, "boss bitches",
ate "stupid" for breakfast,
and pussy and ass, all we could smell,
in the air, on their breath

but
amongst all the shit
and the strain of the stain
I found in him, love
more of care, give, less pain

more of me, sighs, "please don't ever leave"
not of "need", but the "feel right" receive
as in, my god, I just can't get enough,
be around him,
look and listen and dream and desire
as if I could finally see, a real stairwell,
"climb higher"

but then, I'm struck
this all, may be, just in me
I can't help the fact
my external shell
betrays the truth,
what it means, "what it seems"

but then it doesn't,
then again, it does

powerless to change it,
he will see and do, what he wants

a fire of simmer and sensual
and sweet
somehow, enveloped by him,
I feel strangely alive, real, complete

but two halves
must know, when the others'
found "home"
or else its, fuck you, and fuck me
self defined "trainwrecks" 
are well known, crush the "we"

as in collide and kill,
anything remotely too unplanned,
or, of the inner fears, "too close", real

irony everywhere,
fate, meet your mirror
from a man who loves external chaos
the tragedy of this,
couldn't be any clearer

could it turn to triumph?
maybe so, maybe not

but
"it's easier to ask for forgiveness,
than permission"

so then, he'll have to forgive me,
it wasn't me, he was searching
but it is me,

yes.
this "love him".

immeasurably.
unexpectedly.
of the "can't explain, can't escape, can't erase,"
vain, variety

not a garden I've ever seen grow
quite like this
but he already knows
because, this man, has the eyes
of a surgical physician

able to pinpoint and prod
with exquisite smile, and precision

paradoxically filled
with ever questioning indecision
until inner swells of anxious,
impatience, cause derision

then he bolts, in fits and jolts
of energy, energized
world, watch out

there is more to this man
than most could ever see,
his "about"

and so I came, beheld and fell,
slowly, unknowingly, under his spell

call me friend, or brother or cell mate,
the same
but for this unfathomable emotion,
like a lover, would die
I will not be ashamed,
there is no bleed, here, no blame

for all the secrets and answers,
reasons why, look

his eyes.

(ever changing, mercurial, soaked in soul, saw, first sight,
before any words ever needed to be spoken, light bright )

bowen hart roselli
27 march 2020
ringwald love

50 states
for 60 rapes
stars and stripes
for all the assaults, bruises, swipes

physical, verbal
mental, sexual
such is the fate, american fag
dickless, spineless, effete, ineffectual

at self containment,
self control,
"watch that wrist",
limp, and crossed legs,
"be a man and learn the role"
or else, be warned,
you're a used up hole

a vestibule, for abuse,
in endless,
normalized, "needy bitch"
the message, "you did this"

brought it, all on, and in, yourself
pedophiles, perverts,
jocks and jugheads
fucked with, and fucked,
in flurries of furious,
then basically, "better off",
left for dead.

but die, I didn't
just split apart,
for the game, "get back in it"
what's a tortured "twinkle toes" to do?
learn to only feel alive, when screwed.

it's called, the need to know
I was not invisible,
personalities, "paralaxed"
like a decimal, divisible

strange, the things,
a mind, estranged from the heart
will do, the lengths to be "loved",
horse, cart

as in, which one came, before the other?
was it the man down the block,
or the best friend of my brother?

trained, to take it all, no matter
how bloody and brutal,
the attempts to climb up the ladder

the one, reach the top,
you will finally be loved
the one, from the bottom,
says "climb me, a real man
would never give up"

but it's greased, like a whore pole
slide down, again, and again,
sell your soul

for another chance,
fallen, fractured romance
some bruised, battered, good bad boy
holds the key, coined "the dance"

that taunts and teases
"I think I could, be,
finally seen, understood"
but he turns away, just another illusion
delusional darling, me
don't you get it?, can't you see?
born to love, but drilled, like wood

"and this is how you walk and talk",
"and this is how you run, girl",
mocked

"and this is why you exist, suck cock"
"and this is why you are a door,
for the knock"

of every kind of man, imagined
but real, it's true,
things the lucky can't fathom

sick shit happens,
and "the twisted", stays
embedded within,
desperate, the need for escape

into a world
of "pretty boys and pretty girls",
"book of loved", like Susan sang
"heaven from earth", known
for those, all too familiar, "the hang"

of judgements, projections
denunciations, rejections
the utter lack of real humanity,
reflections

american fag,
american made
just a sissy, a tinker bell
for the easy slay, and the lay.

down
and out
and throw about

poke and prod
and probe, without

a second thought,
"whatever happened to him",
"I heard he was beaten and fucked,
some guy Jim"..

"no, I heard he wanted it, good,
just as a worthless american fag should"

whatever the probable "didn't happen",
conversation, could be
this american fag,
filled with stripes and stars
you'll never see

not in a world,
never truly safe,
to be me

so then, multiplied,
50 stated times,
this american fag,

forever, a prisoner,
of the heart,
lost his mind.

yes, I had, and have one, truth
remembrance, the love,
I experienced in youth

purity, tenderness
yet, twice, once, removed
spent ten lifetimes
trying to give, love, and prove

that me, and we, this "I", and all
was more than just a good fist
receptacle, for calls

in the secret of day
or the stripping, of night
some things remembered,
not forgotten, "in flight"

you never know
the seeds you sew
in the mind of another,
how they feed, how they grow

so,
this fag, made, america
shows

what comes around,
it cums, and goes

but still here, am I,
whether filled with imported
secrets and cries

cries I cry, to my "selves", alone
forever in search of a heart,
call me home.

it's not here,
not in america, or earth,
somewhere, some guy
could he still love me?,
see worth?

I guess we'll see,
fuck you, fuck me

this american fag,
tagged, already bought, sold

we'll see.



bowen hart roselli
29 march 2020
ringwald love