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 

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

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

 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

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 

 

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

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

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