 it's kind of amazing the things we survive a shrug of the shoulders, rear view mirror, look behind talking to ourselves, saying "i guess that's just life".. we are so terrible, borderline awful to each other awful, no not "traditional sense" just in the sheer succumbed to state utter, infinite selfishness ego first, it seems, last, always "gain for me", at the expense, faces fall aways... of anything, anyone "too present", "too there".. ask jesus, he knows greatest sin, "too much care".. for another, anointed by the broken, disjointed body tied mind, tied sensitive tied kind.. we, these, "the ones" most likely lost here as in out of our fucking "think, feel for ourselves" minds because who has the thought, who has the time when "self" is all one sees in the mirror, the camera, the image the illusion, now clearer than the blur of actual, factual reality those so loyal, present to you the first to be ripped apart, the last to be glued back together, this "now or never" place, little trace of continuity, grace upon the fragile, tender, of time it's stab, grab what you can and "it's all good" if all the good it is mine spotlight hoarded little to no realized, real remorse, this.. reality we all end up, the same place so few, true, remember us if not in your face, gone, little to no, romanticized trace and all of our bullshit what, exactly, the purpose of it? soundbites, detached nights "pathologically positive" more the frenzy, less the fight to maintain, sustain the soul, something real something, so damned then real fear is that which struck you sweet sided, to feel feeling reserved for the perfectly posed and placed, "next to no one" it's destroy the heart, hurry it up and drop the knife, flee, faster on the run... the road to nowhere, ruin, what have you... if amongst the no one's you can't see, the one, remained steadfast in their love for you, a "once in a lifetime" belief friend or foe can you tell the difference? does it matter, if it demands consideration and care the ability to be human, it's such a waste of time, a hindrance what with texts, returned, to avoid and games of gain to rejoice and phone calls to never make and so much "get and grab" for the take so are you my fate? or my fatal mistake can't get past you, can't give up because before, amongst you i felt something I'd never truly before experienced something in multitudes, layers of love, emotion, mysterious the weight of wind mixed with earth mixed with stars, soaked the skin and i heard a voice inside, unknown that whispered, "my god, i can't believe it... i can feel something so different now, this encounter with him".. (and how did this happen? in his torturous absence that question devours me daily all the self doubts and maybe's.. but...."maybe not's".. let time and patience prevail, no "forgot"... to say or do the things, "lived truth" fearless and fire blessed, it all begins and ends, here beyond me, become you...) bowen hart roselli 1 september 2020 ringwald love
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 care but don't care aware but unaware stop to love you stop to care, careful, whom your heart stripped bare... most are only casual, the "come on", "over here", "the rub", to rub on... one dimensional waters, rise say anything once, twice lacquered, slacker, "easy take" thighs it's all about "the smooth", and "the flow" as in who you choose to know and go with and to and forth, south, north "no regrets", so no remorse sentenced, "slick" think "salt lick", horse salivate soon, says "suck on this", source lemons, limes nickels, dimes chunks and hunks chanced, chosen time cocks and blocks so schooled, "hard knocks" better, "whatever-ed" bathed, "on the rocks" liquor, come quicker the thin of the thicker the bitch of the bicker the lick of the sticker stamped, so tramped and walked upon, "wow" it's live for the moment get what, and whom, you can now as in "get with the program" or "get lost", get going who is in front, manned the boat you are rowing? who is in charge? as you capsize, hit the barge breakdowns for breakthroughs show you "shit shows for shine throughs" ...what choice do i have? really, just the same as you.. nothing left to fear, so to lose nothing impassioned, left to say, so, to prove... so mean it all if you're willing, able, to fall and save your last dollar for when destiny calls you might need it, believe it you just never know which body, before you, can withstand all the blows whom, the piper, you will pay a tithing, a token a "yes, please", want to stay to gain "the get" to whom "have, hold" is your way uncompromised. more smile, less despise more pleasure, so prized more reveal, less disguise anymore what choice do i have? in the end, it begins when all you have to do is ask.... (or take, no mistake, maybe..."too honest", but nothing was it ever "half baked" or faked).... bowen hart roselli 30 august 2020 ringwald love  free the heaven trapped inside of me if only you could see, the things i see the remarkably beautiful amongst the destructive and dutiful ones without minds, inside their heads how they make me hate this world walk, wishing i was dead all the ones for whom words are almost, as in never, attached to their hearts all the shit speak and shit talk murdered, love, language as a cherished work of art all the endless bodies, people everywhere piled more and more on top of each other as daily, to extinction are the humans who care about the innocents, the animals trees, nature, real life things not digitized, filtered to frenzy cartooned, dumpster dived opinions and imbecility tossed and thrown everywhere as if most are listening, amongst all the "me, me, me", stop to care back to the brilliance, removed from the bull it's found, in mystery, the universe and in "the rare", that are full of passion and character, uniquely their own, the ones that slay you love struck, you are not here alone away from the ever growing technology onslaught and another fucking mall to sell all our souls, clearance sale pre-priced, bought there are some who are just...so... utterly gorgeous, in glow demand, you be stopped in your tracks, "need to know" be around them, sweet confound, them as in "how..in..the..world.. this gross society, they exist.." that's the magic, yes it is like the breath that you blew out the candle, didn't know them, the wish because once real love found is one really ever the same, in the after? glow and show and know, the divine actuality of state "give you mine"... my heart, my hope, my "anything you need"... this, the sweet, soul shine a sustenance no food can feed a succumb, remove the numb remove the skin and begin again believing, just maybe, beyond all the shit, "hmmm, there just might be, something to, the something to this".. thing called a journey, some call it a path and i walk with them, swell of love, locked inside of me their incredible, irreplaceable etch their is, without question no need, dare to ask.. the why? and what? and how? none to speak.. the most awe inspiring awareness.. the beautiful ones, things you never planned to find, did not dream, search their seek they just came, and appeared and for that, i kneel the profound, the endeared for a life i now cannot imagine stay here, without them... for 32 years there was only one guy, two girls and now... there is him. bowen hart roselli 4 september 2020 ringwald love  imaginary lives or the one that isn't mine what is the secret what is it like? most would think, this a complete waste of time lucky you then, those who haven't thoroughly and completely lost their mind from being so sick, so tired, being you as in me, all i see through this prism of psyche, bleed the greatest day and joy of my life, will be the day I'm gone, as in "over", released so come on, tell me cuz I'd really like to know.. a life beyond the bedroom, hollow easy cum and sleazy go quick to fall to my knees and blow oh wait, holy shit... that was like, twelve lifetimes ago.. sorry, the time, it escapes me, a blur why I'm still here, don't ask me, not sure.. i can't "get a grip", i can't gain a grasp on what exactly my purpose, my "good" as in "good for", so i wander feeling, thinking i should.. be more "this", be more "that".. just can't seem to find my place where it's at.. i have a talent for torment and tears.. and look where it's got me, living trapped, lost in fears... of aging, war waging and "do you hate me yet?", engaging prone to emotions, intense on scale somewhere between "love me" and "fuck it all", cross so nailed.. to my back, sewn, self-imposed the reasons why, really nobody knows.. least of all me, this hunger to be skyward and free... just always been a "creepy crawly" thing, woke up one day, realizing i was me... a geek, a freak a fag, a lag.. behind the boys and girls too.. in the bushes i learned i was at least, kinda good for a screw and that bent me up.. cuz "what did that position, from behind have anything to do with finding love?" it didn't, me idiot but i kept on going.. same direction, downward, the spiral perfecting my "good boy" prince of bending and blowing.. so now that's all dead and buried, for years.. and i wonder what it's like to get together with a gang and have a few beers.. to be the life of the party, quite charming to have the kind of charisma so captivating, confident, disarming.. to be so handsome i could have anyone, anything i want i will never know these things, so let me put it straight, and blunt when you live inside your own skin, mind forever it's like a prison you long to escape but can't, ever except for the magic, fucking miracle called love yet even that, like starvation is never quite the enough, for enough... to bare the weight of always attempting to be human here as in better, stronger, noble of character when nothing will ever justify my merit, worth.. so "fuck it", faster and forget me, quick lay me down, lay it on, good and thick imaginary lives, imagining what it's like to be you that's so much better, so much more fascinating, true and with that, I'll get back to it so thanks for listening and hooray, now I'm through... bowen hart roselli 4 september 2020 ringwald love  make me a candle that burns, in remarkable, your beautiful name make me the wick, strong stock, unwavering or make me the flame golden fire, succulent, savoring every split second, every moment, like sacred that it heals and touches, with hope nothing impossible, in the nectar, so naked with hues of heart and tenderness, joy no worries, no fears whether the limbs belong to a girl or a boy just human emotion filled, pure light, devotion rarely experienced, rarely ignited as your candle i would be something to believe in, take comfort and flight in no flounder, no past, just release, relief at last.. from all the things that prey on your mind, the wounds you won't admit that cause a shift, a stray, silent kind just peace, in the inner and star glow, in external memories that don't serve your worth, cast out, like photographs tossed here to ash, regions, rightful, infernal a lifeline of light, may that be me, for you a candle or otherwise yes, you are my dream come true through the dark wood I've walked and found myself lost and though marked by it, far from it, perfect i somehow found my way to sun's soft glow that gave me a feeling, real strength and taught me, for a fellow fighter, human to go the real distance, to go any length... to recognize, the rare gorgeous heat, heart of you beaming down, soaked, surrounded real warmth, bursting through all the things you do, don't say all your duality, delicate meets daring ways all your fear, equally fearless, the same all your "uncompromising", yet easily "took", by some, led therefore tamed... in ways you may look back and regret let me not be one of them you, simply too resplendent to ever betray, let alone forget as capture is to captivate and "belong to" is a divine gift, state the candle i would be for you would not dim, like the "found you" in fate it's a second, a heartbeat i could never have foreseen or known and though worlds apart now with, and in me, you will always have a home... because the lessons you've taught and the truth you've shown cannot be overstated underestimated, all the things unknown that i never knew until i laid my heart, eyes upon you may sound stupid, may sound trite, but for me, it's the truth good to know when I'm wrong, even better, when I'm right so say, or don't and think and feel what you will but the candle, i am, would become for you it, a life of it's own nothing time, or distance or removal can kill as it's lit in good and burns with love because i never knew in full spectrum of light in the darkness, smiled a star just one, tiny, from above and it led me to you and for that, i shine more brightly in your illuminance, within me and amongst. bowen hart roselli 7 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  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  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  sleeping, then sensitive to the stimuli of you that's all that happened nothing extraordinary if that's what you believe, then its true i am just a reflection of you a whiteboard of projection make of me, what you will blind, imbued.. with realities of time it's passage, the fade your face in my mind discount, discontinue the delicate divinity of a rare occurrence, a kind... of "something", somehow different, because it was but what does that matter, mean if all is just a moment, lived, torn through, then left unexamined, unloved in the forego of the flower for pursuits of a personalized power that lets us lessen, the "lift up" of the light to continue, chaotic, the frenetic ever faster feeling, fight against the tender, against the tides the want for us, release from the shadows, we hide your stimuli simply ignited somehow, so sweetly skin sensations, i could not, here, deny, then i simply shined and shared it, before you your stimuli resistant averse to mine wrong limbed, your insistence true, or not the simplest explanations for some of us, the demand, unmet to vanquish the valiance of the value, be forgot easy, in the absolute "of course", we all, stimuli in some forms, another face before you, no remorse but that's on you, just as what's on me is your stimuli, I'm sensitive to and the mark you've left even though not replicated me to you i wouldn't change a single thing as your stimuli, back i sent it to you a glowful gorgeous an ember, a spark, awake, a light honorable, anew so what you take of it, what you do says only everything and nothing all the same, about the unknown in you all your fears, all your forgets all your need for the denial of yesterday in the name, the game of what comes next... "get it, got it" your stimuli stressed and mine got stuck those rooms, those days with you, all that mattered was your presence, not so much anything more than that, or what came next... so different worlds, along with different limbs experienced similar ends but strikingly dissimilar begins some sit still and some, they run some get lost in realizations of one while others they move, ever faster in "on" never stopping, take heed the heart, the stimuli of themselves or others laid or left or lingering inside the love for the lie or the lie for the love preferences predicated by the stimuli we choose to forget, flourish frown or focus upon. bowen hart roselli 1 october 2020 ringwald love  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 |
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