Le Sacre du Jeunesse

Scott. I like to dance, I like to think, I like to communicate -- I often do them simultaneously. Detroit bred, Minneapolis based.

[scottyluvsu]

My Tumblr in every way feels like a Library of Alexandria of past self incarnations. I can’t remember the last time I’ve posted a full improvisation - and the idea still rubs me as self-indulgent. However, Tumblr used to fulfill a certain dimension of self-indulgence in my life, so...why not. And to make it more Tumblr-y emotional, it’s to Taylor Swift. xx 

[scottyluvsu]

“So in a running stream one wave we see

after another roll incessantly

and line by line, each does eternally

pursue the other, each the other flee.

By this one, that one ever on is sped,

and this one by the other ever led;

the water still does into water go,

still the same brook, but different waters flow”

-- La Boétie

[scottyluvsu]

21:53

At a restaurant in the suburbs of London

watchng men with

passive interest

drink behind the bar.

There’s another table here, a group of guys

and I watch them through the sensory lens

of the giant glass of wine poured for me.

I am alone

I feel free

I am away

I vibrate on the pulse of morning

Opening only

to that which let’s me die once more.

How much can I flood

How much can I flood

How much can I flood.

[scottyluvsu]

                                                   Spring

I told you at the conservatory that I loved peonies.

Particularly how they blossom. They open, and continue to open - until they don’t stop. The peony becomes so drunk on its own bloom, that it eventually explodes in a combustion of vulnerability - leaving only an exposed stamen, pollen, and a scattering of petals.

The last time I held you, the peony ruptured as you held it. Its petals fell over our bodies, the pollen staining your shirt.

I sprinkled the discarded petals of my softness upon your forehead, and kissed you.

Floral embrace, the end of a flower.

[scottyluvsu]

Quick

As my love breaks free

from chambers kept

it flies within waxen wings

of yesterday’s molding.

Upon winds of faith...

under Love’s sun...

wax will return to liquid.

And I will trust

that I am enough

to fly.

[scottyluvsu]

Orange

How many times

I have extended an invitation to

sweet decay.

To refashion these walls in corrosion,

and stabilize this foundation in the mouth of an insect.

Divine atrophy

plaque in the gums of a creator

I open only to that which lets me die once more.

[inneroptics]

Vaslav Nijinsky - Les Orientales - La Danse Siamoise 1910

[gaypornstar23-deactivated201506]

[scottyluvsu]

(t)horn

I see my questions

snap branches

in the thickets of your being.

As dead kindling falls steadily

into a pile building modestly

a flame will lick soundlessly

leaving ashen warpaint.

Soot watercolors on a face

I’ll recognize as my own.

[scottyluvsu]

247

The venom

leaks out the corners of my mouth

as I sleep

staining my pillow cases

yellow

and giving me a horrible case of morning breath.

Colgate

Superstar.

[scottyluvsu]

November 1st.

Sitting on the edge of Superior,

expansive waters sigh familiar.

An Ambient sunset bounces light 

 - refracted / reflected / projected -

into a contemplative moonstone aura.

His practical magic for pocket charms.

[scottyluvsu]

Is anybody still on Tumblr?

[scottyluvsu]

Spangle Spackle

Stencil traced egos

made geometrically correct by hand and protractor

rattle up against one another

in violent vibrations

approching, colliding, then rupturing

like herniated disks.

The rattling

between my legs

reverberates up The Nile of spinal fluid

into the banks of my irises

emptying into quivering pools of green and black.

Take a deep breath

Pull the tonic to my chest

reaching out

to grapple at clay walls

picking at

excess grime lodged between my finger nails.

I see the Fancy Boys

in the grasshopper meadow

dancing sabbath under the disco star.

Bodies wrapped wrapped wrapped in silver skin

falling through fields of technicolor tall grass.

No time wasted without a second to save.

----------------

There was a lesson here

somewhere

under the bedside table 

at the house (home) in your dream last night.

You wake to the rattle

of an alarm clock

with an aftertaste of fantasy.

Scratching at a bite

from an intimate encounter

you can’t recall.

[superfluouslysuper-deactivated2]

[jokeboy-deactivated20260221]

[rupaulsworld]

[scottyluvsu]

Fatherl-y

With the grace of an airborne minotaur

I duet with a sun-kissed butterfly.

-------------------------------------------------

Paths of winding green

bright, bright, dense.

Channels leak to open - a rosy halo atop a thicket of abundance. Thorns, petals, veins and stems held together by spiderwebbed roots.

Fragrance bleeds - 

Love and task

Truth and Poetry.

Fanning outward through condensed midwestern atmosphere.

-------------------------------------------------

Amethyst dreams project keys through a meadow of lilac ghosts,

I step out onto concrete and am relieved by traction.

Unkept branches poke through railings to get their word in --

“Deeper and deeper...”

“Sweeter and sweeter...”

-------------------------------------------------

It’s a Rainy Night In Paradise.

Forecasts tend to furrow expectations as seen behind emerald lenses -- fitted appropriately, sized accordingly.

Covered with soot, covered in magic

Covered in soot, covered with magic...