iamgointokissu.

( richie )


machiavellian
i am the prince
incarnate
but with you
i am only active
in the sense
that i wait

the opportunity
is never
opportune
because
you are
a different
kind of
transaction
i find myself
dominated
bound
submitting
to the
undercurrent
of unexpressed
attraction

but i feel
different
today
than i did
yesterday
the Prince
has new tactics
to getting his way

mmmm hmmm
iamgointokissu
ihaveto
beforetheendofyear
mmmm hmmmmmm
mmmm hmmm
iamgointokissu
and then i can let go
of the fantasy i held near

aggressive
like a tiger
you’re too fragile
to just grope
i think you’d
snap
if i was too forward
and i don’t
think i’d cope
if a bond
got tainted
by my....
it is because
i value
who...
versus why?
i have no
desire
to have you
i have no inkling
to make
you solely mine
i am full
on myself
and you will
be full on yourself
with more time

no...
ijustwannakissu
whot’s your taste
how do your words
feel
inside my mouth
ferme la bouche
and i will back away
it’s not as serious
as much as it is
a tempting play
if i know you
i have to also know you
this way
because you’re a different
kind of man
to try and understand
that to exist with you
on just one level
is not the way
to really comprehend

sophisticated bad boy.

(richie)


sophisticate
ed
ucation
vocal
costernation

i like to think.

philoso
fly
wit me
intelli
lick
u
all
y

sophisticat
ed
ucate
u on me
i like
to
be free
to be
bad
boy
class
if
i
elite
is
m’
eyes

confidence
is not a stag
grrrr
u want
to feel up
my swagger

feel it up
i fill
it
up
and pour
sum
sophisticate
shun
now
we’re
done

breaking up with my imagination.

( Richie )

this time
was unbearable
as it put into
context
i thought
we were complicated
but it’s apparently
so direct

i think
i liked
the world
i had been accustomed
to seeing
i liked
being optimistic
but this is
fruitless
dreaming
this day
is the day
i sacrificed
my believing
you had
my heart
and i swear
it just stopped
beating

breaking up
feels like i am breaking up...
breaking up with my imagination

painted world
fades to grey
i can’t see life
in a colorful way
all your texts
i kept
they provide
such painful context
i am not masochistic
but i wanted more
and i read into a story
that opened the door

you said
no
so many times
i said
yes
as if they rhymed
they are not similar
they do not mean
the same
no means no
and you let your actions
remind me
a name is a name

i am breaking up...
breaking up with my imagination
reality filters in
and its like raw damnation
dreams that would have been
whispered
are strangled by the wind
messages are rendered invisible
as i cut off channels
for them to send
the poetry
of the push and pull
that tension
that defined us...
is now logic
that numbs my loss
and makes the air
cold around us
like a wall
has been placed
between us
and it feels real
the concept
that proximity
was always close
is no longer
what i feel

i broke up with my imagination
and i accepted
the reality of the situation
i took a bleeding heart
and gave it
some tortured emancipation
but so much
i wish you would just reach out
and make it all colorful again
if i could see some action
not hear words
i would come back then
i would come back then...

breaking up with my imagination. context.

sometimes we see things that aren't really there.
or maybe is...maybe your intuition was right all along...
and the other person just doesn't know what they want
or how to allow someone who is different in their life.

no filler.

i don’t need
a fucking filler
to complete this
sentence.


this is not 2007.
this is not me, scavenging for $$ from clients,
forced to feast on mc donalds every night.
this is not me
symbolically painting a nail black
to externalize
the darkness i was in.
or a litany of sad alterna-emo songs
cluttering my playlist
as i walked down 8th ave
feeling like
i could not be any
weaker or broken
as i was then.

yea, this most def is not 2007.
it’s fucking 2008.

days away from my sanctuary vacation
in scottsdale
with tameka and teri...
and then weeks away from
my next bday.
and i feel like i am just running to it.
because there are so many strengths
to your thirties,
to leaving your twenties behind
and accepting them for what they were...
but yea, i know now...
that i have stepped beyond my previous role.

i am no longer the boy.
i am a man.
i am no longer looking for completion.
i complete my fucking self.
i am no longer afraid to intimate.
i will hold his hand.
and his hand.
and his hand.
and kiss his lips.
and his.
and his.
and when the best complement,
complements me.
and vice versa,
then all is cool.
and yea, that brings energy to my life now -
that i never had before.

like, frankie was my one n only.
my first real love.
il mio cuore.
my only bf.
he was my twenties.
and it was so intense,
so profound,
that it extinguished the individual in me.
i succumbed to being a unit.
a we.
no longer a me.
and i think i had to walk on crutches
then crawl
through 2006,
stumble through 2007,
before i could walk tall in 2008.
and now i fucking run.

substance abuser.

(Richie)


substance
abuser
i am
i want
to
abuse
you
you
got
depth
i
fall
down
to
you
and
i
drown
in
your
substance


i
am
not
a
surface dweller
i
just like
clean streets
i
crave
the saltiness
in my sweets
i
am a
virgo
my moon-libra
i am
as complicated
as the stripes
on a zebra
where
there is
simplicity
lies
a well-worn
thought
where
there
is
time
there
is forethought
and
who
i
is
is
who
i
got


make
me
dream
and
question
yea
babe
i
am
your user
peddle
me
some substance
make
me
an abuser

hang.

Dedicated to a spell being broken.
(richie)


i was up for the challenge
because intuition motivated
my persevering tongue
but now months later
i have barely climbed this ladder
hangin’ on the bottom rung
and i see you lack
the intrigue
the mystery
to know me
and i see you lack
the respect
to treat me
like you do
somebody
i am a cancellation ticket
an uneasy ‘yes’
to hang
turnin’ into a maybe
i am shot up
riddled with bullets
and i crawled back to you
like a lil baby


i wanted you
to know me
like i wanted
to hang onto
your every word
i wanted you
to feel like
my attention
was something
well served
i threw you
a straight line
you threw
me a curve
i don’t have
the heart
to chase this
with verve

i think
i felt hung
out to dry
i think
i wasted
time
questioning why
when
i should
let
sleepin dogs
lie
lie
lie

realization
trickled
like warm
blood
as i looked
upward
from
a pool
of mud
scopin
the face
of the one
who shoved
the one
who i wanted
to give my
love

ha!
incredible
to fall
like this
to not have
even grasped
a single
kiss
was pure
mental
static bliss
emotively
potent
obsessively
amiss
i hung myself
out to dry
for this
for this?

ha!
i have
men
intelligent
and
fine
as hell
they scope
so hard
beggin
to ring
my bell
there is
no drama
no angst
to foretell
they ask me
out
and i say
well....
cool, sounds good
lets hit
the batting cage
effortless
is the attraction
and that
confounds the
paid wage
i thought
a challenge
was a quest
for affection
but now
i see
i needed
some retrospection
because
love is
free
to give
and effortless
to let go of
with someone
you want
to
hang with

self involved: context.

maybe this is something i wrote more for me to relate to...
unlike most of what i write... is more about me wanting others to relate to me. to feel me.
the concept behind self-involved is simple.
i saw the words in my head...
and it was like the pure alphabetic architecture behind them made me rethink what they meant and could stand for...
the positively powerful stance they could own on describing one’s life.

maybe it’s being past the twenties.
the passing of time and the wealth of experiences...
maybe it is appreciating 2008 as one of the happiest years of my adulthood...
i have gone through selfish moments, where pride wrought destruction...
i have been selfless and lost my self...
but now i feel self-involved...
as if i am actively engaged with myself...
my thoughts are my own...
and i am at peace with their solidarity...
and i am embracing it...
mom always said ‘i am fiercely and wonderfully made.’
i think it came from the bible.
dunno.
but there is something about this moment...
where i feel like because i know me...
that i have no apologies for who i am now...
but rather find my ‘changes’ and growth interesting...
that this new sense of confidence and peace actually seems to be bringing an abundance of good stuff my way...

self involved.

( Richie )

I can see that they are walking down the street
with eyes scanning in modest defeat
for someone to hold onto like their favorite sweet
they are so hungry and have nothing to eat
their eyes can lock for a second before crashing down to their feet
and i find this narrative, in observation, to be so bittersweet

maybe i am
a bit
self
involved
but
i
am not selfish
and i am not unkind
maybe i am
a bit
self
involved
but
i can
walk a street
knowing and loving
what is mine


It’s growing dark outside and in my coffee shop
i allow my meditations to stir and then stop
this is like the moment cinderella’s slipper drops
but instead she holds onto everything she’d caught
these are the musings as i look at all i have got
an abundance of happiness in every precious thought
that life has pushed me to what i have, and not what i have not

maybe i am
a bit
self
involved
but
i
am not selfish
and i am not unkind
maybe i am
a bit
self
involved
but
i can
sit alone
and thank the passings
of time

haven.

i still believe that god put animals on the earth, so that we could learn more about our humanity... to even enhance our spirituality...

philosophy 205 was a semiotic moment for me.
i had to debate pro animal rights.
along the way, doing secondary research, i saw all of the animal testing...
how my favorite meat dish - veal scallopini - is borne...
and it changed me.
i went vegetarian without looking back.
it was a sacrifice.
i grew up meat and potatoes.
but i just thought to myself, how could i eat these innocent creatures?

now i am a carne-whore.
and it wasn’t something i took lightly.
but i knew to build my own strength, i needed more protein.
so i adopted a kind of native american approach to eating meat... in an odd way honoring the animals i ‘eat’ by being aware of what i am doing, what they are giving to me...
maybe its my own insane way of coping with my sensitivities...

anyways, my family dog... her name was Haven...
she passed away yesterday.
that would make her around 15 human years old...
she was a blonde cocker spaniel my dad bought for my mom...
and who quickly became MY dog.
i think i gravitate towards smaller, emotional dogs...
knowing they will attach to me,
as much as i will attach to them.

when my family would kick me out of the house for being gay,
and i’d return home after weeks staying somewhere else...
i remember how much solace she brought me.
how i would just go sit outside with her,
her in my lap, and just feel her love for me
and cry.
it was so unconditional....

when i left for university,
Haven got super fat.
she was so distraught with me leaving,
that she became an emotional eater...

she so easily personified human behavior,
in her own canine context...
and she was such a vessel for my love...
i was so cold and detached from my emotions at university...
because of trying to wrestle with bisexuality/homosexuality
and the loss of my religion and family as a result...
i just coped by being an icy individual...
very focused, very cold...
but with Haven,
when i would return home...
it was like i could thaw out.
i had a bond with her that no one could take from me.

and so now she has passed away.
and i have the same weird numbness hurting me...
that i carried when my granny passed away a few years ago...
i recognize a hole or vacuum has been created in her absence...
such a beautiful creature that was here on this earth,
that gave me unconditional love when i was broken...
that helped me heal and become a stronger man.

so yea, i just wanted to honor her...

renaissance.

( Richie )
I may live in Manhattan... I may love modern design... But I am a Renaissance man... Whose affections have transcended the limits of his lifetime... He has caught my imagination in ways I did not think were possible... Again.


I can not dream
of visions so far
from my fingertips
I did not think to imagine
what it would feel like
to taste your lips

But I find
that with you
this is untrue
In every challenge
I dream
more about you

I have an urge
to love you
with the intensity
of a raging sun
Inescapable lust
to hear your thoughts
every
single
one

And the more you push away
and the more you think I feel pain
the more i want you
in ways
that my words could not explain

Illogical
you haunt my existence
from day to night
I take the figments
and make them solid
and hold them tight

A Renaissance man
less a modern player
I am in pure in design
I held back
but my affections
grow fiercer in time
Let what was
unexpected
walk its fine line

faith.

"i am equally a fool for faith as i am a fool for love."


i believe in a god...
i must believe in more than me...
or life just feels bleak...
and with what intelligence i have been gifted,
i believe this unusual faith - for a gay man -
i know that it brings me peace...

i can’t say i am christian anymore...
because religion in itself never touched my soul.
but i do remember that walk home when i was 16...
going to pick up my comics at randy’s house...
and i felt what i alluded to as an ‘artists touch’
fall over me in an almost hush...
the hairs on my arms raised...
the chills running all over my body...
as i sensed something around me...
and i actually stopped and looked around me...
and thought to myself...
wow... look at this world around me...
each detail in nature,
so unique and divine in its structure
and its individuality...
anyone who knows me,
knows i am not a new age-y, nature type...
but in that memory, a semiotic marker was made...
and i believed in a god.

i have no idea what broke me tonight...
i sat down to finish a report i should have finished monday...
and this random song came on...
and everything about it, its beat, its lyrics...
moved me in such a profound way...
that i think everything i was running away from
caught up to me...

i am humbled by my arrogance...
my desire to be considered attractive...
my infatuations...
all of the elements i have been captivated by
that allowed me to escape the present realities...
the pain that is around me with family...
my own fears that i never share...
and the undercurrent of my own feelings of inadequacy...

these are random musings...
but i felt the artists touch again...
and i was reminded by the me that is truly me...
fuck what i project...
what am i physically molding...
because in the superficial...
i forsake my intelligence and spirit...
and i want people to really know me...

that is it... that’s the epiphany...
i want to be known...

fool for faith.

( richie )


i accept this resolution
this unsound peace
i raise my hands
and i drop to my knees
humbled by my arrogance
and control through procrastination
silenced by my one sided use
of intelligence through infatuation
i can not deny
i can not live this world with out faith
i have chills
and it is in the Artists touch i bring my face

i have taken my existence
for granted
my mental passport
taken, stamped it
one too many trips away
from the reality and the pain
one too many bad trips
that erase the testimony of my name
there is no unease or regret
in how unclean my soul reeks
because it is experience that shakes
and brings forward the beliefs i seek

a fool for faith
a fool for divinity
a fool for restlessness
all within me
a fool for faith
when my head is science
when my heart is poetic
when my spirit inhales silence

i can cry to heavens
as i lean out my skyscraper
i can pledge allegiance
to the murmurs of sacred papers
but in the end
i am foolish because i believe
i felt an Artist’s touch
and i had no need to see
i had been touched
and the faith rested within me
i had been humbled
and given back more than was ‘me’

grayed out.

( richie )

i just want
to love
not fall
in love
and there in
lies
the gray.

i sway to inner music
as the sun
french kisses
my skin
i step through emotions
as the heat
settles
in

it’s a summer day
but i am grayed out
he sees black and white
while i see fact with doubt
my emotions are clear
but they are also undefined
this is really serious
but it slides from my mind
into my right pocket
right over my heart
paradoxes...
how my light is drawn to his dark

trop mignon
you have a song
in my summer
in my summer gray
c’est facil
to lose myself
in the drama
of your everyday
it’s like a hummmm
and i hmmmm all the way
knowing logic is not present
when i begin to sway

wallflower.

(richie)

i am not going to waste my energy
on being visible for you
i am going to make you have to seek me
intuitive - sans clue

i was the hunter
an alpha wolf
a puma on speed
i was hungry
to taste love
and feed feed feed
but i rescind
and i decide
i just want to leave
because i was
in front of you
and you still didn’t see

i have
too much power
to stand by
and be
your fucking
wallflower
pining
and shining
when i get
your attention
holding
and holding
your smile
like water
retention
i have
no more
ninth hour
i step out
no longer
your fucking
wallflower

geometry.

( Richie )


when i was a kid,
i rocked calculus and ap chemistry
but geometry existed
just to fuck with me
i went from str8 ‘A’
to my first ever ‘C’
and i found myself questioning
the stability of my intellectual virility
i found myself asking
what the fuck is wrong with me?
how could i entertain
any pleasure at the upcoming math bee?
when in my head
i knew they would be seeing me
for me...
the dude who couldn’t grasp
the principles of geometry?

as a man, when the text isn’t returned
or the call lapses
and i go a weekend without his voice
when i succumb
to the inadequacies
that make me think he got a better choice
i think
what the fuck
is wrong with me
i feel
in that moment
all of those insecurities

and it could be
he had to get his hair did
or he hurt his leg
running at the gym
and it could be
he lost his iphone
would suck to be him
i think these thoughts
and let them swim
there is beauty
in excuses - especially when more grim
but all i know:
here i is - without him

i think i realized
dating
was becoming geometry 201
and all the
challenges
were problematic and not fun
i am a grown man
this is not a high school re-run
and yet
fuck
i want him so bad
that i came undone

i feel like SNL skits
should play in the background
if u saw me in the mirror
my lips moving without sound
i wouldn’t be saying:
‘i want a fig newton’
i’d be saying the psycho-babble shit
we all grew up on
‘i love me’
‘i a good guy’
‘he be so lucky if he got me mmm hmmm’
and i’d squint my eyes
and look all serious
and stoic
and i may tear up
and catch a choke
cuz the phone ain’t vibrating
on my coffee table
and talkin to yourself all pep
is a bit unstable
it feels so disney channel
awww the things we learned from cable
how to lean into misery
to be lifted up like a cinderfella fable

i wish i could have
walked away from geometry
and not let it fuck with my confidence
i wish i could have
done things a lot differently
but i don’t want to live life in a past tense
when i have that self indugent need
to stare into the mirror and chat nonsense
i want to channel it
and make it into something that has pretense
and elitism
and strength
and power
i want it
to be a right angle
slicing through a flower

i don’t want a pussy boy
and i don’t have a mangina
to let his effect
turn me into a chronic whiner
makes me want to fight club
and brawl out with a shiner
tough it up
slurp it up
cough it up
rough it up
i’d rather fail geometry
than let it fail me
time to own up
and pull a 360
ain’t no man
going to get the best of me
and make me piss on it
like its a piece of debris

( SLUT 4 U: UNDRESSED )

( richie )

to think that companionship is the only ingredient i need in a ‘partner’ is a fallacy...
like water for chocolate... i need to want to jump that guy...
i need to have to practice restraint to not scope his ass...
to have him invade my dreams where i tried to velvet rope him off...

i am an elitist...
and yet a socialist...
an apparent contradiction, but it works for me.
i do live on a pedestal... that i create for myself, or that peers place me on...
and i would rather sit up high, than chill on the lower rung of the bleachers...

but through experience...
i know that my best, defining moments have come from rock bottom...
when all hope is expunged, and i am face deep in mud...

and that concept, as well, as the idea for sexuality to be a vibrant component of a real relationship...
caused to me to write slut 4 u.

ironically, i think it’s one of my favorite poems...
it was borne out of a conversation with drew... just a wicked headline...
i could see a song written outta that title.
and then i fused together all of my current crushes and the past relationship experience...
for some kind of narrative...

essentially, who i am into next...
will have to break me...
i am always the man.
i lead.
i know what i want, i pursue...
i always drive by intuition...
and i want someone to flip it...
i crave versatility...
and that implies that i need to be bitched out...
that i need to be humbled...
and i find that challenge intoxicating...

i find it equally poignant...
that as i grow more self-assured...
as i say ‘fuck it’ to everything that seems like bullshit or going-thru-the-motions scenarios...
that i also have the strength to say -
hey, man, i am so into you...
that i want you to make me your slut.

hahahahahahaha

old richie would never have crossed this line.
old richie would not have even played with the concept.
now i want to do more than flirt with it...
i want someone who can hold my attention
to actualize it...

( SLUT 4 U )

( Richie )

i would
be
a
slut
4 u.

i know
you got
a lot more to offer
than
a fine ass...
i know
you got
a complex edge
that puts
this attraction
to task.
but i divulge
and i want
u
to know...
i am always
the man
but with u
make me ur
ho.

make me
crash
into you
so
i can
feel your body
against mine
hard pressed...
make me
rash
impulsive
and hungry
for you
undressed -
to the point
i am
obsessed...
that hold
is magnetic
and
pulls me
to the floor
when i
fall 4 u
it’s heavy
like the diary
of a
well-serviced
whore.

i have
been on
pedestals
now
i want to
ride
your pole...
i have
been
a saint
now
i attempt
to banish
my soul.
you
inspire
my sensual
edge
and i wanna
run over...
there
is strength
in submission
to the whims
of a
lover.

i can do
things
4 u
i can be
what
u create
i can take
my angel
‘n’
lock her
in a crate
i can do
things
4 u
and only
4 u
i want
to be
ur slut
‘n’ be
creative
4 u

it will
be
when u
r as weak
4 me
that i
will be best
and
my experience
as your
bitch
will put
any notions
of degradation
to rest
because
ascension
is in facing
the condescension
head on
and the
way to
my heart
is to break
me
and
get our bed on

( ARTIFICIAL SWEETENER )

( Richie )

I wrote ( TRANSPARENT )...
But it shifted course midway...
In part because it was unusually something I didn’t write in 15 minutes and put away...
But something I came back to, massaged, and looked at differently.

Maybe it’s lame but I was watching Ugly Betty this morning while I woke up...
And she gets stood up by her bf on her birthday...
and the other guy who is into her, comes to her rescue and takes her on a carriage ride.
It’s super-sugary-stuff, but what struck me was the concept behind it...
That the other guy knew her enough to know that a carriage ride would be awesome to her.

And that made me pensive...
The poem was to slack off on a guy who used cheesy lines and crude innuendos as a way to hopefully win my pants down? my heart? lol I don’t know what the end goal would be with that kind of conversational pull...
Anyways, I found the whole interaction amusing, after-the-fact...
And I guess that is the benefit of new experiences, they help mold your outlook in different ways.

I’m not looking for a relationship right now.
I know it. My good friends have heard me say it enough by now - amidst their frustrations at my many different crushes. lol
“Which guy is this? The one who wrote the song? The guy from the gym? The 22 year old?” LOL
What the cartoonish brunch date did teach me though, was that outside of my high testosterone lately and almost-eagerness to play the Loner right now...
I do desire a more inspired connection.

It’s not the demise of my LTR with Frankie that was most offsetting.
I knew I would be fine on my own and that I could rise above all of that.
And I know, at some point, I will fall in love again.
And that I will be stronger and wiser from what I have experienced with him and as a single guy...
What I do miss is that deep companionship.
Of someone you can feel is on your level - intellectually, emotionally, even in a sense - physically...
And that was the true rebuttal of the brunch fiasco.
Not that he wanted to hook up.
Hell, I am so horny lately it’s ridiculous... So I can empathize. lol
No, it was really that it was like pure artificial sweetener being dumped over an entire conversation.
And not only did it make him look lame, make me bored and disturbed, it reduced him in my p.o.v. from someone who was a peer, to someone who was an insecure 32 y.o. man trying desperately to find appeal in saying what he thought I wanted to hear...

( TRANSPARENT )

( Richie )

your lips are moving
and i know
they are flexing
to show me
what you think
i want to hear....
your eyes are searching
crawling
all over my body
fumbling
for a grip
you’re so transparent
it’s clear

you just want to fuck me
you just want to love me
as an idea
and all its fiction
the concept
behind the Southern diction
you just want to own me
i feel like i would disown me
if i gave into
your crude charms
this conversation
sets off fire alarms
panic
this is tannic
wanna wash you from my mouth
and inhale pure air
i think about how you make your moves
and how you think i care

more amusing
than confusing
cuz you’re so transparent
i can make you shrink
by talkin family, being a parent
politics that make u think
i can pull out the tears
i can wax poetic
and shovel shit till you disappear
i’m not into
fire island drivel
your bank account
nuzzling against my ear

i don’t want things
so transparent
that there is
no mystery here
i don’t want simplicity
at the expense
of the complexities
i used to fear
i don’t want cheesy lines
used
because they sound sweet
to an ignorant ear
i want the respect
of my intelligence
brought to the forefront
and not kissing my rear

( FUCK POETRY )

Dedicated to the sun coming out
( richie )

hold my attention
and i am gonna
bite you
hold my ass
and i am gonna
fight you
hold my peen
and i am gonna
like you

i am high
on testosterone
and i
can’t
drive home
in this state
i could never
masturbate
it’d be a shame
to not share
what you just ate
banana
i am goin bananas
for your smooth
skin
i am high
on testosterone
lemme slide on in

fuck protocol
call yourself a boy toy
but you’re no rag doll
you’re strong
and i caught
your scent
str8 up
nothing’s bent
attention
grabbed
by your exposed abs
lay down
so i can
kiss those slabs
of stone
and pure
intoxication
i am here
to grant us both
some emancipation

can i take your arms
control freak
and pin them down by your side
can i take your pecs
and nibble
while i let you ride
the ride
can i forget
the poetry
and fuck
like i understand
machismo dripping
like an IV
into a hotblooded
man
i just want
to be inside you
then i’ll hold your hand
tear up for me
make it all cry
tear up for me
i think you may die
if we don’t do this again
n again
n again
what a fuckin high

( CONTROL )

( Richie )

When you have semiotic markers in your past, that impress on you the feelings of being victimized... And when you subscribe to the musings of astrological signs and happen to be a controlling Virgo... It makes sense that you... ok... that “I” would have difficulty not being in control and could be a bit anal retentive...

The flip side of that, is that I have an insane desire to please not only myself - by being overcompetitive - but others... In the past I have found it difficult to say ‘no.’ Being all psychological, it makes sense for someone who was molested to not be able to find the voice to reject...

A sign of my progress as a human being is that I am finding that voice... I said ‘no’ to a sweet project this past week. Which could have been a nice influx of $$ but it would have taken me out of the beautiful life I am creating and exploring now... In the past I could not stare down an opportunity like this without succumbing to its stressful implications and wreck on my social life... The balancing act between work & play would once again tip into the favor of the profession... And I don’t want that.

The other bit is I seem to be a quasi-man-magnet these days. :P Too many guys to count that I am talking to at the moment. If I prioritized, lol, only two have really caught my attention. One is as slow-moving as a glacier to get to know. And the other, I resist because of his youth - but he continues to floor me with his sensitivity, talent, maturity... yea, and he is crazy hot, too.

All said, what's cool is that I can easily say ‘no’ to a relationship. Even though I am a relationship guy. I kind of know that now is premature to dive back into a LTR. I feel it would compromise my progress to a more real and interesting individual...

And honestly, I think I am a bit of a dope with the whole dating thing. My twenties were all about me and Frankie. And I didn’t really date prior to him. I was a cock tease. lol So like a big chunk of my life as a gay adult were focused on him. In that sense, I feel like I am coming out of a cocoon of sorts. To be so thoughtful and aggressive in going after I want, I also recognize how ‘immature’ in this world I am. I haven’t had multiple guys to compare relationship merits against... Haven’t had the complexity of sexuality or ‘special friends’... So I kinda realize all of this is teaching me stuff. Although I feel a bit at a disadvantage goin after guys my age... Kinda sux. lol

Anyways, I guess this ‘diary entry’ of sorts is just meant to be reflective.
I can’t say at this time last year I was such in a positive state of being. It was rock bottom, actually. Probably one of my lowest moments outside of being kicked out when I was 18. And the contrast between the darkness of last year and the hope and possibilities and strength of the present is that it gives me exceptional optimism for the future...

( MARKED )

Written to Boomkat Runaway
Dedicated to M.N.

(richie)

i don’t
want
to
like
u.

lips part
i cross my heart
un señor, una fe, un dios,
y padre de todos
religion is rarely smart
and with you
i am a willing shark
bite bite
i just bite into this kiss
i think if u left
i’d start to miss
and miss
but i keep telling you
i don’t want this

i want to be
your go-to buddy
pure innocence
not dark n muddy
but i find
i get all lovey-dovey
when you play
music like honey honey

you come
on strong
but i
play along
i have to kiss your lips
friend
i have my front against your hips
friend
i have risen in the occasion
friend
i have no need for imagination
friend
i see it all
i taste it all
i know it all
don’t waste at all
because when the morning comes
and i go home
i still have you playin in my head
like an unforgettable song

and i say
i
don’t
want
to
like
u.

( INTEREST )

You can make more friends in two months by becoming more interested in other people
than you can in two years by trying to get people interested in you.
--Dale Carnegie

(Richie)

i want to close my lips
like the door to my ego
i like your voice
i want to let you know

you hold my gaze
cuz you got sweet physique
you hold my hand, brother
cuz you’re makin my knees go weak
and it’s strong
fucking potent this attraction
and i get it on
by taking no action
boiling inside
is some harnessed passion
and it’s makin my interest in you
longer lasting

i want to close my lips
like the door to my ego
i like being around you
and i want it to show

you are front and center
and i am a flailing sinner
cuz sometimes i dream naughty
about you and your sexy body
and when i get spiritual n pray
i think back to you earlier today
invasion of my thoughts
is what i have bought
and it’s cool
and i’m a fool
but i’m in it, i’m totally in it now
this is different than how
i go for the boys
battin’ them around like lil toys
new game to try
so fun i could die
i jus wanna take you in
i jus wanna take you in
interested, man, you totally interest me
for once, its fun cuz i cut myself free

( PURGATORY )

I wanna rant. Exorcise all of these quasi-negative thoughts from my existence. So first, randomly enough, I HATE seeing all of these gay men with their fucking jeans tucked into their girly boots! And guys with dumpy, pear shaped bodies trying to squeeze into skinny jeans!! It needs to stop. :P

I am in a conflicting state these days.
In many ways, I couldn't be happier... I feel good/healthy... I am not worried about $$ right now...
But in other ways, I feel torn up...
I am distracted by boys... I feel excessively horny... I am in need of at least a few gay PEERS who want to do something besides get wasted, do drugs, or fuck... I am constantly worried about my grandmother, Alzheimers, my family... And I am lacking the career vision I had in place when I created Risqué over a year and half ago...

In many ways, my happiness resides in a symbolic purgatory...
I'm sorting out my life in a way that isn't very progressive...

So my angst lately comes from trying to pursue life in a way that wasn't fitting my personality...
The red light is flashing... And I realize that I am in danger of just being AVERAGE...
I have been focusing on the 'present' too much... Trying to be low key and enjoying the moment... But it's not my appetite.
I am meant to live in the next moment, the future... That is what drives me... That is what gives me a vision that I can work against... Plus, if you think about it... the "present" is almost an illusion. It's so closely tied to the past...

I can't hate on all of this inner turmoil though. I think it's constructive... I am not one to shy away from conflict when it can improve a situation... And I am also realizing that some of the things I want to happen were always future tense... And I was trying to force them into the present day... When what I really need to do is recognize that great things can come slowly... It just requires you to look into the future than the now...

That's worked for me so long... I guess I thought I needed to change... And it ended up making me more antsy than anything and counterproductive...

C'est finit.

( LICKED WOUNDS: CONTEXT )

( Richie )

In the absence of discontent there is no creativity. - Chopra

i believe my greatest creative expressions are borne out of pain or turmoil.
when things are happy-go-lucky, you’re a bit less inspired, huh...

licked wounds jus kinda poured out of me...
i’m supposed to be doing a market analysis of downloadable content and instead this song by Landon Pigg hit me... Great Companion...
it’s a song that reminds me too much of my ex, Frankie...
i let go of the anger and major hurt of that breakup long ago...
but the aftershocks always are felt in unusual ways...
and the poem came out in ten minutes...

it was saturday night and my second night out with matty...
i was trying to be a good friend...
his two month romance had ended thursday night... and i knew he needed me...
and i knew i also needed to act like i was single...
you’re not going to meet guys at home...
and the guys you meet at home (online) are typically gonna be pervy...
not whot you want to share with friends or family...

so back to saturday night...williamsburg...i made it out of manhattan... lol
and i find matty’s roomie givin me shots of whisky...
to partner with my Patron...
and i was surveying the environment...
good vibes...got hit on by a cute GIRL at the bar...
the one guy i thought was cute, I made conversation with... so kudos there...
and i ended up playin pool...
but in my head...i started thinkin:
“frankie, i fucking hate you right now. almost 7 years with you. i am not meant to be here now. i am not meant to be single. i am meant to be at home. writing poems about YOU. about our life. i am supposed to be wandering through Whole Foods aisles with you beside me...”

i don’t hate him... i just don’t like the navigation skills and relearning needed to date... i don’t like not being able to trust my intuition... i don’t like not knowing when to be aggressive and when to be silent... i don’t like not knowing what’s in the other guy’s head... am i still just the guy you ask to fuck with you in the backseat of a car and we leave with only first names exchanged? or have i risen to a point where someone would be interested in my point of view and some intelligent conversation?

it’s a bunch of unanswered questions...
and i am trying to learn as i go...

( LICKED WOUNDS )

( Richie )

i gave you my history
and it is etched forever in your name
but your absence
has rendered me a fucking amateur
in this dating game...

when do i curtail
my intuition
and let things flow?
i fear that attraction
expires
as time lets it go...

and i have so much to say
and i have so much to give
and i have so much to think
and i have a life i want to live

licked wounds heal
but i walk funny now
i stand up straight
but it feels like i bow

i would rather skip ahead
and lay claim to the future tense
the past and the present
just seem to make little sense

it is to whose affections
that i now succumb
it is that head in hands
as i sit at the lower rung
it is to what adoration
that i glimpse in digital correspondence
it is to what fantasies
that my heart fishes out nonsense

licked wounds heal
but i walk funny now
i would love again
if you just showed me how

( PAIN )

Pain is weakness leaving your body...
which leads me to think that if to gain strength, you must face it and go through it...
then these moments of my life that have hit such high moments of pain...
are truly just exercises to make me better than I was before.

I wrote the poem "Nigger Lover" on mine and Tameka's train ride to Glasgow in December...
I had just read in one of the UK tabloids about a racial slur thrown at a teacher repeatedly by the school's principal...
And it just kind of jarred a memory...
I think I had spent the past few days musing on self-philosophical-masturbatory material and the mushy-dreamy encounter with Mark... lol
I think foreign travel makes me more self-involved, like I want to take in everything and make it 'reinvent' or reinspire me...
Well anyways, I guess it did.
It's easy for me to write about raw emotions... Things I could rarely speak aloud can just flow out.
I write and I never look back. I never edit. It's just a big gush of feelings and the words jus come...
But it's usually about love or self progression...
Something like this poem comes once in a blue moon for me...

Do you ever feel like you have lived many lives in your current lifespan?
I think I have. And I think it bothered me. Like I was a Sybill.
How could I have been that person at that point in time? And who am I now?

By living in the moment...I think it is easy to disconnect from my past.
Or rather, I tend to live in the next moment...and am therefore even further disconnected more from my past.
So when these triggers like that tabloid article...when they pop up...it's almost like I am watching or experiencing some episode on TV. And not a moment that actually occurred in my past...

I remember writing that poem on that train.
And it actually just flowed for me...
And i was tearing up the whole time...
Like it hurt to write it...
But reopening that painful moment in time, reminded me of all the rascist and sexist and homophobic and closed-off thinking I grew up around in GA...
This was a defining moment for me.
This moment cultivated me into the man I am...

My mama babied me.
She lost a daughter before I was born.
She lost her older brother as a teenager.
So she was so protective.
Playing sports was so difficult with her, too.
I remember playing baseball and I think my nose got busted up.
And she screamed at my dad I couldn't play that anymore. lol
I just have to think that if this negative experience with Shawna hadn't occurred so early in my youth...then I would never have dared to stand on my own feet... I would be a mama's boy...too sheltered to form my own thoughts...
It was through other people's ignorance that I was enlightened...

Anyways, with a title like that...I felt I had to give it some added context...

( NIGGER LOVER )

(richie)
Written through angry tears at a memory still fresh almost 20 years ago...

there are defining moments that irrevocably change us
that muddy time with dirty paws
like talons, they rake chronal streams with bloody claws
twisting the fates
as cavalier as drawing for straws
i have those moments
imprinted on my soul
defining my curvature
as i grow old

they were roller skates
that felt too big for my feet
they were cutoff jean shorts
one should never keep
it was the 80’s
and a birthday party at the roller rink
pizza and rock music
and all of the soda that you could drink
it was a time i can only feel now
as it was not a time meant to overthink
it was simple and clear
of all the complexities that allow us to sink

she was shawna
she was my best friends sister
she was ebony
like chocolate had kissed her
pleased with her complexion
she was walking confection
a lithe gymnast
who at 10 didn’t need my protection
i was the waif, of course,
who could not gain a pound
and i held shawna’s hand
and we skated round n round

it was like a knife to butter
slicing through too easy
it was words that made my stomach
turn queasy
like when i had milk
past its expiration date
it made that circular rink
feel like more than i could take

they called me nigger lover
like it was my scarlet letter
yet i wore it
like no one could wear it better
i held her hand tighter
and i wouldn’t let go
as we turned that corner
i said we would make another go
i knew she could hear
what was being said
i wanted to sing so loud
they never entered her head
i felt in that moment
my innocence taken away
i also felt a strength
that didn’t require me to pray
it was by instinct
that i refused to let go
that i knew that moment
would define how i would grow

i hurt for her
and i hurt for me
i hurt for columbus, ga
and its tainted serenity
small world
felt like suffocation
oppressively stifled
in colorful education
i learned the merit
of language and its vice
i saw human beings
through different eyes

it molded me
with sensitivity
it gave me
a natural proclivity
to seek out common threads
where none conventionally apply
just one of my defining moments
changing my world
like the cast of a die

( DREAM SEX )

(richie)
Written to: "4 Minutes to Save the World" by Madonna
Dedicated to: M.M.

i am gettin off the phone
i am sittin here
all alone
i just want you
naked in my home
i hear your voice
like a provocative drone
i just wanna lay back
and groan
get your ass here
so i can own

you tell me:
“dream about me,
i dream about you -
it’s kinda like dream sex...”
sounds so innocent
but i just want
to wake up
sticky ‘n wet

explicit confessions
i am going to text
to you
because my voice
will crack
at how lewd
i wanna get
it on
with you
makin dream sex
is as close
as i can get to you

pinch it
till it makes me
want to scream
this is
hot damn
not a fucking dream
but boy
is not here
in my bed
boy is playing
naughty
all in my head
“dream lover
come rescue me”
i got a dose
of your raw
sexuality
now i want
you
all over me
i want you
you
all over me

( HUNT THE HUNTER )

(richie)
Written to: "Give Up" by Young Love

boy, you’re taking your sweet time
with me
and the torture that was beauty
is causing me fatigue
hold back
you just hold back
while i push forward
am i making you scared
or playing in the wrong league?

x marks the spot
text me
so i can clue in
what it takes
to break you
to break you in
it’s more than
the first date
cuz you’re making me
wait and wait
i am dry
no longer wet
from the Anticipate

do i have to meet you
in our dreams
when our conscious lives
will not control
our collisions
you have me starving
for a taste of you
and tasting dreams
is not a sustainable
provision

alpha wolf
i am
i do not want to be
i want to be chum
for your shark
come devour me

pursue the hunter
break me in
since you’re a stallion
i can’t
reign in

( DELAYED EMOTION )

My grandmother on my mom's side...my Maw Maw...is like my heart. I think throughout all my life, especially growing up and returning to Columbus, GA...I knew and felt I was different. Like sometimes, if like my family didn't have the same features: blue eyes, smaller body frame, lips, I would totally think I was adopted. lol I just never found the way to look at things so simply and conservatively as the majority of my family did. It erupted into a lot of screaming matches and spankings for me... cuz I was just too dominant of a personality... like I always had my point of view... You couldn't force me to do anything!

One time, I remember how my mom wanted me to eat BBQ chicken. And I hated chicken sooo much. And I refused to eat it. And she made me sit at the table for like 2 hours. And I still refused. And she was like 'if you don't eat this, I am going to spank you.' And I was like "I HAVE RIGHTS!!" And she took me into her bedroom and got out the paddle and started to hit me with it. And I was like "You can hit me all that you want! But I take karate and I know Ki! I can take punches to my throat!" And then my mom just burst out laughing and the whooping was over. :P

I always had this kind of conflict growing up. And like I loved to watch people dance and to dance and to sing! But I wasn't allowed to listen to rock music - only Christian music...But this is like where Maw Maw comes in... she would sneak behind my Mom's back and let me watch Star Search. And I would sneak on a rock radio station and dance for her, and she would give me scores like "4 Stars, Richie!" - just like on Star Search... She kinda helped me stay strong...Well, not kinda. She was always my biggest supporter. Still is. Nothing I can do is wrong in her eyes. Isn't that beautiful? Like true unconditional love?

When Frankie and I broke up... I think that after like 6.5 years together... like my heart had been ripped out of me. And I think a year after that I still questioned if I'd ever really heal. I think one of my worst fears, to grow old alone, was like always at the front of my mind. A bit ridiculous, I guess. Or illogical... to try to project the rest of my life based on one significant relationship... But God it hurt so bad... And although my family knew I had a boyfriend, knew who Frankie was and had even met him... it was never really talked about much. You definitely didn't see me kissing on him in front of them or outwardly showing too much emotion... But after the break-up, I was just shattered. And my mom flew me straight from Phoenix to GA to 'recover' for a week or so... And I just remember breaking down in front of my Maw Maw...so afraid this would be the thing that really tested her love for me. The faggoty grandson weeping over his 'boyfriend.' But she got it. She knew what he meant to me. She saw it all in my eyes and we cried together. And she told me, there were more fishes in the sea.

I don't know what's wrong with her... She had a fall last year and hasn't been the same since... They think it is something neurological... could be nerve damage... or a spinal cord injury... but we don't know what it is... Her mood's are off... she is more anxious and angry at my grandfather... They have been together over 50 years... She thinks there is like a conspiracy against her... Just weird stuff... very out of character... And I think all day today... my heaviness when I heard the latest news from my Mom... it just kind of hung there. Like I set it aside. I continued working as if everything was OK. I compartmentalized. I thought about seeing York at the gym tomorrow... I thought about my trip the following weekend to L.A. I thought about how I wanted to buy a comic book... I thought about random things... And it wasn't until I had bought a sweater and got on the train home that it began to wash over me... Delayed emotions... Memories that are so sweet and full of laughter tinged with so much pain right now that I feel like my heart is getting chipped off in little pieces... What if something were to happen to her? It just keeps coming back to me... Just how strong am I without the ones I love?

I think my "changes" in 08... that are kind of shocking to some of my close friends... are all tied indirectly to a sense of loss. That I am coming to realize how quickly life goes... There are these minute windows of opportunity to just "live" and to love one another... and sometimes we act like they are going to always be there... but they aren't...

( PROCESSED MEAT )

So, yea, I have become a bit of a carnewhore. I think I have it with almost every meal. Feels so bogus to, right? I was the soy-meat-substitute man for so long...the guy who took you to the vegan raw restaurants and extolled its almost hallucinatory merits post-dinner...And now... I think my southern fried roots are emerging again in the worst way. I have succumbed to processed meats...I lost my veggie virginity to Hillshire Farms turkey slices...I know...And then I fell into the eat fresh snare of the Subway down the street. And now I am hurting. I hurtin’ real bad, ya’ll. It’s so debilitating when your inner sickness sucks out even your physical strength and energy. Hellish workout today as a result. And bummed me out post, until I rolled out of the illness and found ‘insipiration’ out of it. The root of my evil was processed meat. Not good for you, unnatural shit.

I am hooked on this new singer, Duffy, from Europe...And right now writing with this lyric “I would never be your stepping stone...take me all...or leave me alone...”

I have been processed meat. I wouldn’t let you take me all. Cuz I always felt like I needed to add something to it to make it more palatable. To make it that kinda crack-addiction-frenzy I get when I am home and see a Chick-Fil-A, like you just wanna eat some Richie up.

And now I am kind of like ‘fuck it.’ In a good way, of course. Not all hostile. But I don’t wanna be processed meat anymore. I want to be all organic. When I wrote all natural, I knew some of you would think dirty stuff. lol So yea, I wanna be ORGANIC.

Nothing is gained in pretense.

( FUCK THE WAIF )

Written to: “We are the Sound” by The Afters

imperfect stains
like coffee
on porcelain veneers
clogged drains
in posh hotels
for hi-fly careers
nothing’s perfect
squeeze my cheeks
and kiss my rear

don’t be hostile
to my ass
give it
loving attention
like the kind
you’d give
an object of
affection...
when you
say ‘fuck it’
say it
with a heart
that shows
you have grown up
and have
some direction...
when i say
'ride it’
you say
‘awww
you’re so versatile
in your
insurrection...’
we were
taught
to be please be KIND
when we rewind
and this is
the manual
for life’s
sustainable
erection.

muscular dysmorphia:

i was at a party
and i remember
so clearly
when in walked
the perfect
southern belle...
just the way
i like it
blonde and blue -
they are always
the ones
to send you
str8 to hell...
she looked me up
she looked me down
cuz i think i
was wearing boxers
that day
and she said
‘cute.
waif look is in.’
and what manhood
had risen
had fallen
to the status
of prey.

i wanted to hunt
goddammit
not have
pretty girls
tell me i was
pretty thin...
i didn’t want
drinks
from old fuckers
who thought
that would grant passage
in...
i was slamming
against
the box
they all wanted
to be my inscription...
i just wanted
to throw my head back
pop a pill
without a fucking
prescription.

fade in and fade out
the frustrations
and draw pictures
of anime girls
with big busts
to cover up
the dirty details...
a liberal pirate
plundering
his obsession
with ejaculation,
with flirtations
flirting str8 to hell...
mock crucifixions
and holy water
could not suppress
my desire...
fuck
i needed that holy water
just to put out
the carnal fire...
i was burning
like a cat in heat
i was the carnewhore
without his plate of meat.

boy was starvin
and boy was a waif
boy was religiously-expelled
from his faith
boy was in process
adding bits and pieces
of what he found
along the way
boy hit the 30’s
and realized
boy could no longer
stay


hello, man.

( STAINS )

I told Diego this last night...that I believe it’s wrong to look back into the past with regrets...if it was all good stuff, if there wasn’t the adversity, the pain, the torture that existence just hits us with at different intervals...we’d be pretty fucking boring I think. And I know for myself, I wouldn’t be the man I am becoming, the man I am this day.

I think the things we like to regret or wish differently on, are the unchangeable tenets that allow us to actually progress as individuals...

( NO WINE STAINS ON MY PANTS )

( Richie )
Written to: "Mercy" by Duffy.

i used to wander into the Circus
lookin for the boys on the dancing block
the drunken paws at the bulges
one predicted wrongly as a stuffed sock
i remember a boyfriend
i’d take him outside to chat
i remember security
breaking up our drunken spats
i remember how i used to be
aggression rolled up tight as a waif
i remember how 6 a.m. rollin out
still didn’t feel like it was late

right now
i got no powder
under my nose
right now
i got no wine
staining my clothes
right now
i got my head on
straight
right now
i can look back
and appreciate

social lubrication
planning an evening
around intoxication
surrendering
to imagination
what rolls off your tongue
in slurred declarations
lack the inhibitions
of simple contemplation
was never should i do this?
should i do that?
it was what i wanted
and i wanted to touch “that”

right now
i got no e puddles
no holding on to
emo cuddles
right now
i got no drink on
i got no grinding song
i got nothing wrong
i don’t got my hands
and mouth down
in places they don’t belong

straight edge
like a razor
slice me
clean
straight down
like an
autopsy
graver
than a death
of one’s house
pet
is to part
the embrace
of social
lubricant

( MUDDY )

written to: 'Give Up' by Young Love
(richie)

my heart drips and makes me think
things are gonna get a bit bloody
life by rules is all missed opportunity
sometimes you have to get muddy

if i held my tongue
i think i’d bite it off right now
so desperate to speak
i am like a standing cow
but humans don’t understand cow
so we are at an impasse in communication
you can see into my eyes
this beautiful torture without explanation

i practice restraint
like i am the Dalai Lama
i confess to gods
how much i want ya
i see an imaginary line
you won’t let me cross just yet
i’d like to get dirty
smudge it out and walk over it

i think i am going to sit back
and wait for you to catch up
with me on this
i think i am going to lay down
and dream about what it’s going to feel like
when we kiss

( LIKE A MAN )

Michelle's quote 2 me: "It's never too late to be what you might have been."

So, it's been a highly random day.
V Day.
And I seem to be in love with myself. lol
No, in faux seriousness, I have found myself, twice now, doin weird things with my body. lol
Ok. So I went to the restroom at Rockstar, and like everytime I go and I am by myself, I lift up my shirt so I can see the indentions in my abs. Or I feel a new muscle developin in my arms when I am making coffee in the kitchen.
I totally only do these narcissistic things when I am alone.
But it's so unlike me.
Usually, I kinda avoid the mirror. I don't like taking photos. It's not self-loathing. It's just kinda like the physical part of me has been a bit disconnected from my reality I guess.
I hang my hat on people thinkin I am interesting in how I think or things I say or how I smile or whatever. Basically those like non-physical cues for attraction.
And now. It's like I am bein given a whole new body.
And like in that Disney movie where the mom switches bodies with Lindsay Lohan - I kinda feel that way.
Like whoah. WTF. Is this really me? Did I have this potential all along to find strength, to 'awaken strength' in a physical context, but I basically bitched out? I became the emo kid who likes clothes and his poetry and his pretty boys - and in a sense, lagged out the masculine side. The southern boy who went hunting. The soccer player. The runner. The physical competitor.
I kinda think so.
Its odd. Cuz I think the concept of masculinity is so much more dimensionalized than "str8 acting" or bullish behavior. But I do feel more like a man lately.
I think Greg kinda hit it on the head a while back when he was like, "Richie, you're becoming a man versus the twink boy you were."
And I think that is so powerful. lol
Twinkish, waifish - it kind of denegrates my value.
Love me or lust me for more than jus the idea you want to TRY and top me.
Don't think that smaller frame means open playing field.
Or that I am easily intimidated.
It becomes an interesting power shift internally for me, I guess, when I "narc out" on myself right now.
Made me write this poem "Narc" - guised in 1/2 truths...but also gettin that Chelsea boy complex finally.
It is kinda addictive to realize you have the power to sculpt and change your body in a way that is almost Adonis-like.
And what does that mean down the road? Do you lose your mind to it? lol
Do you like wanna wank to yourself? Do you become the dude who will spend 1 hr in the mirror and 5 min lookin at your lover?
Just random, humorous musings I guess.
I can't imagine I will ever go that way, of course.
I'm not THAT gung ho.
Jus enjoyin the epiphany that the past week or so has revealed to me.

( NARC )

(richie)

i want to lean over this puddle
get on my knees
and look at my reflection.
i want to lift up my shirt
while makin coffee
and note the indentions.
i want to narc out
bein the narcissist that i am.
i want to narc out
and touch myself
like a #1 fan.

you give me
you give me
drugs
when i do
lunges
and pulls
you give me
you give me
a fuckin high
that makes
me mug
like a fool

i think i wanna
i think i wanna touch
this muscle
i think if i had a street corner
i’d get paid a lot
to hustle
i think i lose
common sense
the more i gain
this new physique
i think i lose
touch
but i like the strength
in bein this shallow n weak

i want to masturbate
in the mirror
a different angle
and a little clearer
yea i like the way
when i tilt my head
i wonder with yoga
if i can give myself head
hmmm yea
somethin to consider
who needs love
when i can deliver
i want to narc out
bein the narcissist that i am.
i want to narc out
and touch myself
like a #1 fan.

( BABY STEP )

(richie)
dedicated to T.Q.


i’m not the type to hold back
i don't like toying with regrets
i’m a guy with decisiveness
who doesn’t take action in baby steps

if you interest me
if i feel a connection
if you prick me
and i bleed introspection
if you make me wonderlust
in your direction
if there is an if
i have to answer that question

don’t hold back
no toy in regrets
decisive man
doesn’t take baby steps

some eyes close
when faced with extremities
i’d rather brace and embrace
those opportunities
inaction stutters on fear
and i want to kick it in the face
there’s a god-like power
in knowing how you really taste
what you want
and who you izz
conservativism
is like evaporated jizz
disconnected from its source
to the ether
not knowing its impact
you tell me, which part is sweeter?
to connect and spring forth
from contact with an exclamation mark
or to lay back and moan
because there is no spark

don’t hold back
no toy in regrets
decisive man
doesn’t take baby steps

( REGRET )

(richie)


never one to set boundaries
imagination requires
that lines be crossed
at times
i want to want
and i want to pursue
what i want
to be mine

i only regret
the things i didn’t do
i have no regrets
for what i’ve done
i don’t classify
or specify
what was good, bad
ill-thought, fun

it was the words
that got forced into a song
versus printed on
his face
when they could have been
spoken...
it was the hand
that concealed a longing
when it should have
been extended
versus playing
broken...
i know i know i know
all of my regrets
were things i should have
acted on in that second’s span,
i think experience shows
that those are what
potholes existence
with the questions they demand

i don’t wear labels:
all saint,
man-whore,
with confidence
or respect
i think that they
are designed
by people whose lives
are like the sofas
they overprotect
harboring a fugitive
desire
to act on impulse
or passion
yet so terrified
by being rejected
they live through inaction
they can choke
on my bad behavior
or inability
to create lines
“i will never cross”
they can suck it
through vicarious
windows
dreaming
at no cost

( EAR TO THE WALL )

I find unusual peace...significant confidence...in holding my tongue...
To find my voice of strength, I have found the ability to listen.

I have been a one-upper. You tell me your Italian; I take you to my art school days in Cortona, Italy.
You tell me you like photography; I tell you about the print I did of Allessandro that hung in a museum.
Today I met with York, this guy who will be training me for a bit at my gym.
And I found that a lot of my scores were average for body fat, lung strength, et cetera... and everything about this guy communicates he likes to train the above-average.
I got the vibe, when he talks about working with athletes, that that is compelling to him.
And I had this itch to defend my averageness...I travel so much...I don’t have a lot of time... I am so social... And I just kept fighting the urge... What I want my actions in the future to show to him is that I will listen to him. That my competitive inner-athlete has been confined to my career path for the past decade... but that I am malleable. That I am changing. That I will listen to improve...

I think the greatest tragedy for me would be to be average. To have an average life. To have an average impact on people. To coast through the channels that are prescribed out of convenience and material gain...

That is why I do the one-up. Because inwardly I know I am not the dynamic creative spirit I was in my teens. And not because that artistic soul vanished, but because I chose to ignore it over time. And in my process of becoming who I am now, I fear that I have become uninteresting. And so I leverage my cool job. I leverage my world trips in conversations. Because it creates a voice for me that surpasses average definitions...

But now..I see that for the insecurity that it truly can be...I am putting my ear to the wall. It reminds me of an old Amy Grant song... “If these old walls could speak...” I want to listen...I want to see what they say of me... and just absorb it. Not defend myself. Not applaud myself. Just to listen.

It is through this almost passive but most struggling action for me, that I am finding my greatest strength and understanding...

And you know, Maw Maw... this all came from my conversation with you just now... That I could lose you anytime soon... that I could lose the way you have seen this world all these years with such Light... that is not something I can do. I love you all my heart.

( YOU DON'T CHASE PERFECTION )

(richie)


i find myself listening...
i find myself listening
to every word.
as your mouth opens
i inhale
i gorge
with no intent
to purge.
you’re like a star
and this is
beyond
my immediate grasp,
so i am gonna
enjoy the ride
the journey
as long as it lasts
i listen...
i listen and lean in
for your direction
cuz that’s the way you do it -
you sip on perfection

if you blow too hard
lil piggie’s house is gonna fall down
if you drink too much
your face is gonna smack the ground
too much
and too much is to be lost
too much
is not worth the cost
you don’t chase perfection
it has to come to you
when it’s ready to be held close
naturally, you will know what to do

it’s like when i am with you...
the equivalent of closing my eyes...
singing to the world....
all of my desire just exhales and cries...
and it’s a song
i know you’re meant to create
i can close my eyes
and sing and breathe and dream and wait

( REGAINING CONSCIOUSNESS )

A close friend says: "I think it's human nature to gravitate towards what's comfortable. I think you were gravitating."

Logically, I know this...I use familiarity bias as an argument for why the world is lacking creativity and inventiveness....
I guess emotionally, I tune out the rational buzz in my ears for a while...

With Frankie just coming back into my life...it felt really good. Good to have him around the apartment. Good to have him interacting with my family. Good to feel completely myself around someone.

How abrupt life can be. Like a broken synapse...this unusual reconnection is cut short so soon. I found a hole in my gut reopened when I learned he was going to move back to L.A. this weekend. A familiar ache I had allowed to heal over. Kinda knocks the wind out of you... the sense of loss...

And perspective shifts. Bright days turn to darkness. And hope becomes supplanted with bitterness.

I remember in Greek mythology, the sisters of Fate toying with our destinies... and it feels poignant for myself.
Was I staging a reunion with Frankie? I don't think so. It felt different this time around. But it felt really good. It felt really good to not know where this was headed. To relinquish a design for the future, and to just go with it.

And now it's like the Fates decide to fuck with my new more mature and less controlling self...and they block that open path with geography... That intimacy can't be held onto when you're so far apart. I think I know that intuitively, even if I would tell anyone or a friend, that if their love resided in another continent they could still manage it.

So I guess what was poignant about the poem I wrote is that in these months where Frankie re-entered my world. I lost consciousness. The details of our past were thrown out the door, and I held onto the warm impressions... Like going into a cocoon, I was embracing a center of my universe that I can so easily fall into its gravitational pull.

And now as I regain consciousness, like coming out of surgery, it hurts bad. But the difference is, I am much different than I was before. And where there is pain, I must turn it into creativity and strength.

( LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS )

a great mind brought us consciousness
let’s take a breath
and lose it for a few hours
i think to forget to think
would be so unforgettable
in its sheer power

center of my gravity
you pull me in
no matter where
my heart has been
there is no beginning
to this end
i just feel
like giving back in

natural to hold a breath
and lose consciousness
i dare not question
this finite preciousness
i am a blank slate
a canvas of pure hope
and each time
it’s harder to cope

center of my gravity
pull me back in
you hold me too close
and i break and bend
lost and coming back
to the center
i always make it out
alive but not a winner

love is tender
love tends to prick
love is a drug
love makes me sick
lose my mind
to my heart
lose my vision
to the dark
in this moment
i find hope
i find broken dreams
more difficult to cope

and i hold
and hold
and hold on
this is us
this was us
now play our song
take me back
and pull me in
just another day more
feels more right
than wrong
like a familiar
blanket
wrapped around me
brings me security and peace
i slide back
and lose my logic
i am strength
buckling at its knees
so tender is the prick
spun out
left me sick