Tuesday, July 6, 2010

We Tell Our Lies Through Pictures...photos by Walt Cessna NYC 10

































Boys, boy everywhere. Skinny jeans, assymetric hair. Some taste sweet, some turn sour. Some will charge you by the hour. Summer heat, ushers in skin, unbridled passion, intimate sin. Lovers aplenty, friends a few, boyfriends unnecessary, sweat like dew. Eatting out of the hand that feeds you, not really a crime. as lon...g as you give as good as you take and learn to take your time. Lingering kisses, long hard gropes, lost in a backroom, exes a ghost. Use me up, spit me out and don't stop till your spent. Cause when i wake up tomorrow, all i have on my mind is next months rent.

biting bullets, sinking in asphalt quik-sand, serving up attitude, please just talk to the hand.
streaking city streets under piss yellow street light,
looking for trouble that still doesn't feel right,
understanding that the void is real and my feelings true,
still hooked into something shady, code name blue.
...two boys that tried to act like men, but came up short, their passion spent. nothing left but carnage, limbs torn, skinned black n blue, a map to our own destruction, our future completely askew

Silver stars, blush blue lite
cherry lips, stained de-light
set to tempt you, suck you in
forgiven circumstances, bottom shelf gin,
looking like something, but feeling another
...selection completed, brother, not a lover
and as the afternoon idles by, conversation sated, laughter replied, looking forward to another daze, stoney silent, stupefied.

Bitter melon, ripe desire, unspoken passion, 3 flat tires. Desolution dandy, sacred skin no more, metamorphisis near complete, not yet ready to knock on heavens door.

San Francisco seasonings of modern gay man-tire, looks beyond description, random retro correctness spawned by new wave electro desires, street style like worn out tires, too many cliques and not enuf leaders, those who show no fear, their style no bounds, unafraid to leap into new proportions, unafraid to let their freak flag wave high, round n round- we all go, walking the runway with a freaky side stroll.

slamming into disturbance, balanced by my fuel, asleep in my own daydream, caught in a web of drool. slipping past the boundaries, put up by my own self, suffering through the substances, a quiet cry for help. finding out that nothing means exactly what it doesn't, releasing the need to keep you in my life, truth slips into deception, the benefits seem rife. but only in my illusion, do i ever find respite, shedding you like unneeded skin, as i finally give up the fight.

Destination simplistic style, sensing something, slightly vile... Realizing that only one thing can get me there, a drama undertaken, because you act like a troll, a jealous fool, a chaotic child, a starving wandererer, happy just for a smile, looking past what we could have been, destroying our future, better off dead. Love unlimited and yet in brief supply, looking like a champion, living Tigers lie.

Days go past as if a blur, the TV drones, wendy williams a visual slur
rockets flash past and celebrities die, i wait for your calls, or at least a good-bye
eatting mounds of my own flesh, slipping distant, press refresh
believing or at least pretending, that I still do, lost in my own hysterical mis-conclusion, not knowing where you are or even who
stalling for salvation, leaving crumbs upon my plate, your loss is my decision, your love my only bait,
and each time that i take it, i lose another shred of me, knowing you'll be in anothers arms as I myself deceive.

Spitting up treason, coughing up lies, left to my suspicion, imitation i despise, desicions need to be made, you not to rue, doing only as you wish, your true eyes yellow, disguised as blue, unable to put your drink down, willing to let yourself play the clown, of phony, bullshit, miscontent, a lifetime lost with nothing spent

We tell our lies through pictures, our uncertainties the truth, beneath lies all fiction, yet I am unable to stop the soot......you grieve so unconditionally, i cry as if on remote, you twist the nail slowly deeper, i beg for more to hurt. You say I love you dearly, as you stick it in my skin, digging for convenience, the final frame flashes "fin".

slits in my memory, stabs at my mind, decadent delusions, best fun I ever had...slithering through your intentions, burying all the lies, wanting nothing, expecting less, your reaction hardly a surprise...licking at the wounds that spring forth from my flesh, recent abarations spilling blood against the best, eatting my victory without swallowing my pride, almost going the distance, almost but never died...yet I find myself expecting, things that might be to come from you, knowing full well and half hearted that you might turn up empty handed, your love all thats left to dole. so i look into the future and see just what I suspect, a never ending happy ending, both our souls to vet

Splinters of denial, picked slowly out of my already thin skin......pricking up bits of bloody disillusionment and ungrateful surprise. Examining the sliver like shards that i try to rebury in myself slowly, not wanting to know if they wield an answer or just another plethora of questions that in my heart i know i can answer myself. Trailing the splinters slowly across my skin, it tingles, burns, goose-bumps appear and i close my eyes thinking of everything that needs to be addressed and then trying to immediately forget it all. Months spent in a bubble, days locked in forced purpose, seconds caught in an ever tangling web of counterfeit astonishment. And I know in my head that i do this all to myself, so i force myself to slowly release and search out the last few, deepest splinters- the ones of confusion, miscontent, loneliness, fear and worst of all lack of self esteem. I slide each one between my fingers, finally flicking them to the wind, out of my life and away from my future, until all i can feel is the slightest of my breath rising like extra slow motion lava up my throat and filling my mouth with a taste that is at once gorgeous yet repellent. the taste of promise, uncertain, but filled with hope and the dreams that bring it to fruition. And I close my eyes and fade away into one of those dreams, a slight smile taking over my face, strangely soiled, somewhat serene

Frustration seeps from my skin, like wet cement hardening from within. Trapping me in a state of terminal malaise, looking for.....redemption as I play to an empty stage. Sudden situations designed to test my steed, locking up my emotions until I am consistently teed. Lighting matches as I lay in a pool of gasoline, setting myself on fire instead of licking my wounds clean. Disturbing visions of a freaked out past, feeling like a loser, all you have to do is ask. For something, anything, you've never had before, leaving things unsaid, even as I'm shown the door. Understanding nothing but my love for you is true, feeling cold & abandoned, sad and ultimately blue. Sparks light up my sight and lead me in search of more, refused and redundant, a sad, bitter whore. Hopeful yet hopeless, content yet unconcise, leaving myself open, to the death of my own device.

I can hear her high heels click click clicking against the cold tile floor, long before she makes her appearance......Not just any grand enterance, mind you, but one of such immaculate thought and perfect timing, there can be no denying that this is a true vixen, an undisputable goddess in our midst. Her long black hair is cut into several face flattering layers and bounces around her head as if there is a surge of magic fairy dust percolating through each follicle. Her expression seems frozen, an almost angry, slightly sarcastic glare emenates from her eyes while her lips are pursed into a faux friendly smile that hides the sharpened fangs waiting to sink into their next victim. Her string bean long body is punctuated by a set of sprightly Raisinettes, permanently erect and forever popping out against the thin jersey of her deeply v'd top. Super skinny jeans the color of tainted mustard encase her legs like wet paint on a dry wall and each curve and languid line on her legs is highlighted to magnificent proportions. And let's not forget the shoes. Cheap, almost vulgar, frankly fake patent vinyl multi-strapped creatures from the hot pink lagoon, tiny metallic hearts and stars sprinkled liberally across each toe and down the back of each heel, looking like the footwear that Rainbow Brite or Gem & The Holograms might sport. She has had her fill of whatever it was she was looking for in the first place and spins around, slowly at first, then twirling like dervish, an out of control top in tacky clothes and a frozen face, spinning for her own amusement, dissapearing from sight slowly, leaving nothing in her wake but my bewildered gaze and a few thoughts that weren't worth having anyway

Sonic ANAL renovations executed on my daily troll, mixed up revelations steal my sympathetic soul...,,,i muster all my good intentrions, and i try to come correct, but my hand is weak from hunger and some would have left me for dead. But I steal another glance at you, another moment all at your expense, leaving everything open and allowing things to detriment...looking deep within her soul, a mistress, mother...she. Another time unspoken, another chance untaken, by someone, that's right, ME. So here we are, together again, the wounds appear to heal- but i understand, it may not last- can you really ever feel- for me, but more for you, becoming one, instead of two- allowing the future, forgetting the past, taking the wheel, making our love last

I slowly dip my fingers into the red ink and spread it......across my broken face in smooth slow circles, trying to cover the black & blue with another shade of hate. As I cover each mark and let the ink dry, I face my reflection in the mirror and start to cry. Partly for myself, but also for him, love trapped in fear, the ultimate fukt up emotion. I realize things now, that i wish i had before, opening my eyes, wider, wider more. Soaking in the past, while dreaming about the new, stuck in an endless pattern, of self persecution and abuse. I've never felt this broken before, yet also reborn, new energy in bloom. So I turn on the tap and start to wash my face clean, the red ink dripping from my face, the black n blue strangely clean. Once I am dry I turn out the light and think about better daze, be they wrong or hopefully right.

OUR LOVE SEEMS TO GO IN CIRCLES......That only ever rarely connect, about to draw to a close
When events become circumspect,
But time heals our wounds, as our love only deepens,
throwing caution to the wind, instead of spending each second weeping
I hold him closer than I possibly can, praying for a day when we are together,
And I can live solely, happily with my man
But for now we use the distance, and excuse of our work
To keep things in check, to keep from acting like jerks
And every-time we meet, it only get more serious
My love for him, intensifies, almost furious
So we throw ourselves into the passion, escaping from the dullness of our daze
Knowing full well there will come a time, when we must account for our ways
But I’ve begun to make the move, to change my life, DIE or improve
Sifting thru the rubble of our past, taking the bad, embracing the good
Remembering what it is we first saw in each other, our love shall surely last
So as i embark on this journey, as alone and scary it may seem
I know that you will help me get thru, not by myself
But the two of us, as a team.

She prowls through the mall lost in her Ipod and sipping an...... extra large cup of frozen faux fruit bliss, oblivious to the stares of strangers unable to avert their eyes from her. I'm guessing she's in her 40's due to the leathery texture of her face and the slight sag of skin at her elbows, but her attire tries hard to convince that she is no more than 20 and not swimming with the sapphic sharks. Her top is one of those crinkled polyester halters in a hue of fuschia that i've never seen before and her barely crotch covering denim mini skirt appears worn in all the wrong places. Dozens of dull silver & gold bangles descend down her arms and her earlobes are weighed down by huge hoop earrings that a parrot could comfortably perch on. Her hair is tied up I Dream Of Jeannie style with a black & white polka dot scrunchie and her heavy lidded eyes are caked under a badly applied layer of emerald green eye shadow that she most likely scored from one of the bargain bins at Odd Lots. But it's her shoes that have me and almost every single other person passing her staring in fascination: gold metallic gladiator sandals that feature multiple straps all the way up her stick thin calves, covered completely in gaudy rhinestones. She must have a Bedazzler at home and customized them herself and although they come off looking like retired Vegas Showgirl shoes, I must admit they have a tacky brilliance I'm finding hard to resist. I can't stop myself from following her, savoring the crude stares and whispered comments that pass her by and reveling in her over-all obliviousness as she loudly sucks her drink through her straw and occassionally lets out an audible word or two from whatever song is playing on her Ipod. She appears happy, confident even, unaware of the visual spectacle she presents and unwilling to pay anybody but herself any mind. I think I'm in love...not the kind you're thinking, but more an admiration kind of feeling. For she posseses the one thing that most of us could truly benefit from: the ability to not give a flying fuck or care about what other people think. And for just that reason, she is my heroine of the day, a magnificently marred creature that slinks through life at her own pace, savoring her own in-correctness and revelling in the visual distraction that she unwittingly presents. Work girl...work.

Half a face, a single eye, cuts thru the bullshiz, tell another lie. Looking past tomorrow, future on perma-blur, tried to say I'm sorry, but you know how much that's worth. Owning up to the destruction, trying to face the truth, starting everything over, the point is truly moot. I wonder what why we found each other, ...if only to slowly die, twisting the nails in deeper, hardly uttering a sigh. The carnage it was bloody, the mess I can't clean up, but all i wish is closure, not sure if that's enough. I don't love you like I used to, but still want what is best, even though in your mind, I'm still a
red hot mess.

close my eyes, so I less despise, the unending stupidity, the silent
cries...losing myself in somethingunreal, finding salvation I don't have
to steal, realizing that the end is near, but dismissing anything that
stinks of fear...aching to see things clearly, although my eyes are set
to perma blur, looking at the whole... picture solely, encountering my own
peculiar slur, a tagment of my own vestation, a stranglehold on my soul,
slowly building to a cresendo, hopefully not ending up a troll...2
steps forward, 8 steps back, dressed head to toe in white, yet skin
stained forever black.

Bloody windows, broken doors
Selfish lovers, stupid whores
Desperate actions, need for more
Self destruction, dead to to the core
Licking the wounds, semi stoned
Defeating the purpose, muffled moans
Creating chaos, my heart is loaned
from someone evil, bad to the bone

Summer showers, sloppy rain, no discussion, too much pain. I sift thru the ruins, of a thing we once called love, trapped without any reason, our aspirations held above. And I prayed for your redemption, from the hell in which you rot, my regeneration a salvation, from the bloody battles I wrought. So I wash myself clean, never getting any less dirty, no more pure and hardly worthy.

Rock divine, blow my mind, never mind, i'm way behind, but coming fast, and moving strong, i take the lead, i search the unknown, will you come, and dance with me, trip the light fantastic, for the moment and not eternity, and remember those things, that bring a smile, cause you know I miss ya, my lil honey child.

1 comment:

Ornery Owl of Naughty Netherworld Press and Readers Roost said...

Super cool poem and of course the pictures are excellent as well. Although I'm not a gay man, I relate to the emotions of desire and pain in this piece. In fact I was just sitting here wondering to myself about how every relationship I've ever had has been toxic. I see where it's my fault too, for having such low self-esteem that I choose the kinds of guys that are going to abuse me, which is why I've chosen nobody for the past 12 years.