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.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
( 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...
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
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
Sunday, March 16, 2008
( 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...
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
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
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
( 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
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
Monday, March 3, 2008
( 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
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
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