( richie )
we all have
a dark phoenix
and I want to lie
on my dark side
reborn from darkness
ashes to embers
dust to alive
Thursday, September 20, 2007
( VOYEUR )
(richie)
9.20.07
palm pressed
to a cold window
free hand holding
the binoculars steady
jealous
of the warm bodies
if I could jump
I’d be ok:ready
in my head
I play and play
if I was in their bed
what would they say
could I just hold on
and never say a word
would that be too
perverse
in the state
of today’s world
the voyeur
wanting to break his stare
so eager
for the hand patting his head,
stroking his hair
its acidic
and stinging my tongue
this ache
that stifles the pretense
this is me having fun
when I envy
the contours they weave
in their bed
on their sides
I can not stop staring
into what was
an evening’s
welcoming light
that touch
that tactile
sensation
that understanding
that transcended
explanation
that comfort
like a womb
that sleep
come soon
come soon
and overpower
my desires
and lust
take away
my vision
as my hope
turns to dust.
9.20.07
palm pressed
to a cold window
free hand holding
the binoculars steady
jealous
of the warm bodies
if I could jump
I’d be ok:ready
in my head
I play and play
if I was in their bed
what would they say
could I just hold on
and never say a word
would that be too
perverse
in the state
of today’s world
the voyeur
wanting to break his stare
so eager
for the hand patting his head,
stroking his hair
its acidic
and stinging my tongue
this ache
that stifles the pretense
this is me having fun
when I envy
the contours they weave
in their bed
on their sides
I can not stop staring
into what was
an evening’s
welcoming light
that touch
that tactile
sensation
that understanding
that transcended
explanation
that comfort
like a womb
that sleep
come soon
come soon
and overpower
my desires
and lust
take away
my vision
as my hope
turns to dust.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
( HELD BACK )
(richie)
8.29.07
it was a subconscious path
with memories just under the surface
and like rain falls down
with its refreshing purpose
I knew the stains
these lingering pains
were never trying to hurt ‘us.’
it was an annual meditation
marked by a tear in the calendar
of my previous existence
it was the reminder of me as ‘us’
laced with love letters
and photos
asking for deliverance.
it was never simple
to examine
my emotions
on this subject
yet it was never too complex,
the challenge
to understand
making me reflect
why do you love
with intensity
and allow the flames to subside?
why do you feel so sad
to the point
the extinguished past
makes you feel as if you died?
it was the wrong meditation
to center my spirit on
it was the wrong path
that always ended
in a tragic love song
if I was bored
with the lack of insight
in what went wrong
then I had to open myself up
to better grasping
where am I going to belong.
and it brought me here
I raised my hands
like I was in church
and I tasted
the divinity
of a salty tear
that promised me
more than
a reflection
on a painful year
for once in so long
I had a simple grasp
that made me…
stand out clear…
I took myself off the market
I held myself back
I knew my scent
was as alluring
as warm blood to a vampire attack
I hid myself
fibbed myself
into thinking I was ready to sail
but if I look back
I chose my solitary steel and glass tower
over a dating hell
because I knew deep down
that once I was understood
I would be pinned down
and I was too weak
and I would take it lying down
the affection
to close a gap
like my body knew
that signal was a trap
it was intuition
that held me back
the trepidation
the lack of anticipation
I was not looking for that love to grow
I was holding back
because wounds needed to heal
scars wanted to be less of a show
this is how I lived
protected
and I didn’t even know
to start the story off
acknowledging the insane pain
is the appropriate context
to set the truths I have gained
it has not been about my loss
it was what had to be explained
over time
hidden from my conscious state
like a tiger
strikingly still, patient to wait...
sprung on me
like an epiphany that brought hope
an understanding
of how to survive
and emotionally cope
all the while knowing
it was necessary
because I am the treasure people seek
I am more than an average man
and I will open myself up
to the company I wish to keep.
8.29.07
it was a subconscious path
with memories just under the surface
and like rain falls down
with its refreshing purpose
I knew the stains
these lingering pains
were never trying to hurt ‘us.’
it was an annual meditation
marked by a tear in the calendar
of my previous existence
it was the reminder of me as ‘us’
laced with love letters
and photos
asking for deliverance.
it was never simple
to examine
my emotions
on this subject
yet it was never too complex,
the challenge
to understand
making me reflect
why do you love
with intensity
and allow the flames to subside?
why do you feel so sad
to the point
the extinguished past
makes you feel as if you died?
it was the wrong meditation
to center my spirit on
it was the wrong path
that always ended
in a tragic love song
if I was bored
with the lack of insight
in what went wrong
then I had to open myself up
to better grasping
where am I going to belong.
and it brought me here
I raised my hands
like I was in church
and I tasted
the divinity
of a salty tear
that promised me
more than
a reflection
on a painful year
for once in so long
I had a simple grasp
that made me…
stand out clear…
I took myself off the market
I held myself back
I knew my scent
was as alluring
as warm blood to a vampire attack
I hid myself
fibbed myself
into thinking I was ready to sail
but if I look back
I chose my solitary steel and glass tower
over a dating hell
because I knew deep down
that once I was understood
I would be pinned down
and I was too weak
and I would take it lying down
the affection
to close a gap
like my body knew
that signal was a trap
it was intuition
that held me back
the trepidation
the lack of anticipation
I was not looking for that love to grow
I was holding back
because wounds needed to heal
scars wanted to be less of a show
this is how I lived
protected
and I didn’t even know
to start the story off
acknowledging the insane pain
is the appropriate context
to set the truths I have gained
it has not been about my loss
it was what had to be explained
over time
hidden from my conscious state
like a tiger
strikingly still, patient to wait...
sprung on me
like an epiphany that brought hope
an understanding
of how to survive
and emotionally cope
all the while knowing
it was necessary
because I am the treasure people seek
I am more than an average man
and I will open myself up
to the company I wish to keep.
( HELD UP: CONTEXT )
(richie)
8.29.07
I remember thinking how odd it was that I felt so emo and depressed over the weekend. On the surface, everything was super. Everything was ‘braggable.’ Like: ‘whoah, good stuff happening to that Richie guy!’
And yet I spent Sunday crying in random intervals. A heightened sense of loneliness ravaged my mind and emotions. And I had the ache to play victim, to go to the pity party, and center on my uncanny ability to be ‘close’ with everyone who lived geographically far away from me.
That I can have conversations with friends on a daily basis, who live on opposite coastlines…that I can share my internal thoughts with online buddies in other countries…and that I could fall into a weekend funk with no warm body in my immediate space…it just begged for a good, victimized cry.
And then I had a thought, after chatting with Frankie, that felt like a dagger being driven into my heart. I remember the sensation. Going numb. Shutting down. This was the time last year that we ended our 6 and a half year relationship…the blue scrapbook sat on my living room desk, with photos of us detailing our intertwined lives…and then I spiraled into darkness further. And the absence of that companionship…the loss of someone understanding my most minute details and behavior was felt…and I thought. O my god. What have I become? I am an island. I am on the 25th floor of this building looking into a towering cityscape…and here I reside in my own world. Untouched.
How easy it is for me to pull in. To cocoon. To find pleasure in my solitude – and yet balk at it when I realize I lack the exciting weekend stories to share with others what in theory should mimic my upward-trajectory lifestyle.
And then I just went to bed.
When I woke up, my stomach hurt. The loss forming a pit in my stomach. I think it had solidified. And I did what has become an increasing meditation… I was still. And I just allowed tears to stain my cheeks…I held my hands up, palms open and upward, my face tilting to the sky…and I asked for strength. I begged for peace. And I begged for hope. And it came. Like a lightbulb going off in a really dark room, things felt illuminated.
I HAD CHOSEN to be an island.
I had made the decisive maneuver to retreat at times.
There were the flirtations post-Frankie that I had allowed myself to fall into, thinking these were the guys who would fulfill my dreams with me. These were the guys who would grant me a simpler life, a more fulfilling life that was built around family…children…a new path…
But each time, there was something off-kilter. And each time I found it embarrassingly hard to tell them ‘no’…that the match was not there…I allowed myself to romanticize my Sex & the City fantasies…that I would have hot date stories to share with my peers. And ultimately I would end up with my Mr. Right.
Which circles back to the main epiphany: I held myself back.
I never fully gave in to anyone on many levels. The pain and betrayal that I felt at the end of my relationship, coupled with the trials of starting one’s own company, and navigating through Manhattan…they had created some very open wounds. And I needed to not only heal, but to see what I had become through my experiences.
And it just felt cool…to be able to flip it from a viewpoint of loss and victimization to one of – ‘hey, man, you were doing this all along for protection. To get stronger. You may have not known it, but it was very Darwinian in action.’
I held back because I know I am a fucking good catch. I know that the unique perspective I bring to whatever industry I play in, is the same unique energy I bring when I enter the gay community.
I’m not a stereotype.
And I am very much real and grounded.
I am a man with boyish intent and looks – and I embrace that. In a world of gay men acting like walking porn books, I exist as that young adult novel. Still full of naivete despite my experiences, still regressive at time with my ardor for comics and video games, still more excited by touching the knee of someone I am interested in – or a fantastic crush…those are defining traits of mine.
And I look at how I hide.
Or have hidden.
I wear a cap and yet I am not bald.
I say sexy things and yet I am not a slut.
I go out only when prodded – an ideal Sunday for me is to never leave my house.
I wear headphones everywhere I go – circumventing conversations.
I rarely express my fears and trials – and therefore give off the perception things come easy for me.
I find it hard to commit to dates – even if I am madly attracted to the guy online.
I do all of these things, I realize, because I have been and will still be for a while, very inwardly focused.
It is not the time for me to be consumed.
But possibly closer to the time, for me to be stepping out of some of my shadows.
8.29.07
I remember thinking how odd it was that I felt so emo and depressed over the weekend. On the surface, everything was super. Everything was ‘braggable.’ Like: ‘whoah, good stuff happening to that Richie guy!’
And yet I spent Sunday crying in random intervals. A heightened sense of loneliness ravaged my mind and emotions. And I had the ache to play victim, to go to the pity party, and center on my uncanny ability to be ‘close’ with everyone who lived geographically far away from me.
That I can have conversations with friends on a daily basis, who live on opposite coastlines…that I can share my internal thoughts with online buddies in other countries…and that I could fall into a weekend funk with no warm body in my immediate space…it just begged for a good, victimized cry.
And then I had a thought, after chatting with Frankie, that felt like a dagger being driven into my heart. I remember the sensation. Going numb. Shutting down. This was the time last year that we ended our 6 and a half year relationship…the blue scrapbook sat on my living room desk, with photos of us detailing our intertwined lives…and then I spiraled into darkness further. And the absence of that companionship…the loss of someone understanding my most minute details and behavior was felt…and I thought. O my god. What have I become? I am an island. I am on the 25th floor of this building looking into a towering cityscape…and here I reside in my own world. Untouched.
How easy it is for me to pull in. To cocoon. To find pleasure in my solitude – and yet balk at it when I realize I lack the exciting weekend stories to share with others what in theory should mimic my upward-trajectory lifestyle.
And then I just went to bed.
When I woke up, my stomach hurt. The loss forming a pit in my stomach. I think it had solidified. And I did what has become an increasing meditation… I was still. And I just allowed tears to stain my cheeks…I held my hands up, palms open and upward, my face tilting to the sky…and I asked for strength. I begged for peace. And I begged for hope. And it came. Like a lightbulb going off in a really dark room, things felt illuminated.
I HAD CHOSEN to be an island.
I had made the decisive maneuver to retreat at times.
There were the flirtations post-Frankie that I had allowed myself to fall into, thinking these were the guys who would fulfill my dreams with me. These were the guys who would grant me a simpler life, a more fulfilling life that was built around family…children…a new path…
But each time, there was something off-kilter. And each time I found it embarrassingly hard to tell them ‘no’…that the match was not there…I allowed myself to romanticize my Sex & the City fantasies…that I would have hot date stories to share with my peers. And ultimately I would end up with my Mr. Right.
Which circles back to the main epiphany: I held myself back.
I never fully gave in to anyone on many levels. The pain and betrayal that I felt at the end of my relationship, coupled with the trials of starting one’s own company, and navigating through Manhattan…they had created some very open wounds. And I needed to not only heal, but to see what I had become through my experiences.
And it just felt cool…to be able to flip it from a viewpoint of loss and victimization to one of – ‘hey, man, you were doing this all along for protection. To get stronger. You may have not known it, but it was very Darwinian in action.’
I held back because I know I am a fucking good catch. I know that the unique perspective I bring to whatever industry I play in, is the same unique energy I bring when I enter the gay community.
I’m not a stereotype.
And I am very much real and grounded.
I am a man with boyish intent and looks – and I embrace that. In a world of gay men acting like walking porn books, I exist as that young adult novel. Still full of naivete despite my experiences, still regressive at time with my ardor for comics and video games, still more excited by touching the knee of someone I am interested in – or a fantastic crush…those are defining traits of mine.
And I look at how I hide.
Or have hidden.
I wear a cap and yet I am not bald.
I say sexy things and yet I am not a slut.
I go out only when prodded – an ideal Sunday for me is to never leave my house.
I wear headphones everywhere I go – circumventing conversations.
I rarely express my fears and trials – and therefore give off the perception things come easy for me.
I find it hard to commit to dates – even if I am madly attracted to the guy online.
I do all of these things, I realize, because I have been and will still be for a while, very inwardly focused.
It is not the time for me to be consumed.
But possibly closer to the time, for me to be stepping out of some of my shadows.
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