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The King of the Stars

11/23/2020

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Picture


the hearts that hide,
the hearts that have died
the ones that strangely beat,
out of time...

a heart for him, a heart for her
all the things that aren't now
but yes, they once were

the ghosts that haunt,
inside our heads
the secrets that we keep, un-bled
the things we say, but don't
just the same
the beasts within, we cannot tame

so die, we do
in fits and spurts
the vulnerability, hope slain
strained, our self worth

confidence, assurance
found, then gone
we beat ourselves mercilessly
for all that we got, went wrong...

along the way, along the path
chosen for ourselves?,
is it really that simple,
we reap the shame of our
"should've known" wrath

better or beforehand,
as if we are machines
reduced to the lowest
of demonstrative means

"so...I'm the fag"
and she's the tagged,
as in "teamed",
if you know what i mean

and he's "the straight",
so that's gotta be exact, like an arrow"..

who can you trust
as your walls close in, tightly narrow

seems we gotta live, breathe
by the rules, roles defined
as they grow ever more labeled,
welcome to the wonderland
death of soul, lose your mind...

amongst all the chatter
and all the garbage
that does not matter
everything, at our fingertips, easy..
too bad all the gluttony
leaves little here of lasting,
love, meaning...

that place inside,
the divine hold, the heart
seems so many moments wasted
seen "the end", from the start..

skipping through the center,
who has time for that?
stillness seen as a languorous loser,
yeah, "the winners",
time filled, "busy busy" at bat

swinging, hitting it, outta the park
bragging rights, all light, all shine,
no shadows, dare be illuminated, dark

"look what I'm called,
worship my title"
no time for leaving the clutch
fixed on idle

but you,
the one thing
I'd stop everything and all
for and with,
so delicately mesmerizing, your call

of the wild,
and of "the wolf"
i know the difference
of a fraudulent frame, mistook

as the one, to behold,
painted gold
but underneath, nothing there
soul, a void, called "already sold"

that's not you,
you remarkable being
as such, the awakening
to a divine light, sight, seeing

all the things i couldn't,
my blind
your nuance, your nectar
it's soaked, "one of a kind"

the mystery of you,
utter magic to me
inspires endless flights of "found"
within the realm of
the unknown, aroused

seen.

you, for what you bleed, you are
the mirror to that universe
you love, filled with stars

none of them perfect,
matter fractured, rough, glow
and shine, they still do
filled with so much,
no "just any other" can know

no choice, but to leave behind
all i thought i was,
seek the strength, awakened,
to grow

no choice but to love you
for the soul, striking, like sacred, you are

i thought i was searching
lost, in a dream,
king of hearts
until i met you,

found before me,
right there standing

the king of the stars.


bowen hart roselli
22 november 2020
ringwald love
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    the realm of the poetic.

    prisoner of the psyche and the inescapable. heart.

    all poems copyright of this author. - ringwald love.

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