BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
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She with the shiny black rose hair
smiles ancient rictus grin:
compliment received…
will I age like that? Like a papercut?
Blood drips to water stores
removed from dry bone rattle;
a fire of truth that burns us all away.
Kindness amidst violence
threatened with every raised voice
of children pretending they they
are even a quarter of her age.
Her smile tattoos my brain;
a giddy afterimage to ponder as
Aaron turns away to keep me close.
Written by Jason Wright
October 23, 2017
My eyes have been burning
I dream they are bleeding
allergic reaction
to book I am reading
I’ve read it before
but it’s still just as haunting:
an honest admission
of hardship and wanting
excerpts of life
which echo my own
reflected in eyes
of men that I’ve known
moment and whisper
the sound of my breathing
the fall of a zipper
where wanting is needing
the touch of a stranger
or the thrill of a glance
safety and danger
of an old circumstance
that creams little death
under weight of his stare
wet dreams made flesh
as our souls are laid bare
in each conversation
and every discourse
each revelation
is beyond intercourse
as we come together
in solace (like marriage)
his is a volume
I always will cherish.
Written by Jason Wright
August 23, 2017
innocence
amorous
virtuous
sensuous
yearn and return
repressed stream
of consciousness
permissible trips
stain his kissable lips
and he ghosts the tips
lest his secret life slips
on a dissonant grace
obsessed across nations
his innocent face
is repressed revelation
disapproval incurred
by his indiscretion
a removal of words
is that a confession
deletion implies there
was something to hide
you complete the affair
when the truth is denied
is message deleted
admission of guilt
this lesson repeated
by tears that are spilt
Written by Jason Wright
August 22, 2017
Trailer music in my ears,
Subway void of virgin fears,
Smiling just to feel so free,
All the others here with me.
All are quiet; all are calm,
Softest whisper sacred psalm,
Breathe it in and simply smile,
Simple truth makes life worthwhile.
Written by Jason Wright
August 21, 2017
Tonight
after haunted days of painful painlessness
a siege of sirens comes
to serenade, seduce and succor…
to simplify…
to supply me with solace
as I drown
beneath waves of mutilation
(with apologies to Pixies).
My Aaron sings to me
his soothing tones
which are less like music;
more like verse…
strumming my ribcage
beneath salt water seas,
we swim naked for hours
through tears we’ve not shed.
The other Aaron,
the Aaron between us,
he haunts through
photograph, text and memory,
echoing across time and geography
to be one with us again.
There are naked hungry men
beneath those shadowed depths,
those sombre shades of green
lit by melancholy movie soundtracks.
The mermen dive for pleasure
and breathe truthfully through gilled
fantasy lies which excite and entice me
before dragging me down to my death.
In amber and glow,
through fogged glass of sunken ships
she is weeping her mermaid crocodile tears.
This is not truly Jamie;
this being is not my sister or my therapist.
The former doesn’t speak to me, even on land
and the latter will soon be lost to me –
just as I left her (unforgivably)
in the haste of my waking nightmare.
She will forgive me this unforgivable sin.
She is strong but she is wounded –
like me,
underwater –
like me,
and she will rise again –
like me.
Could this truly be her after all?
I smile and wave goodbye to her
but she can’t see me until Thursday.
Mermaid simulacrum smiles just the same…
but here my visions come to an end.
Written by Jason Wright
August 17, 2017
For Aaron Squared & Jamie Bloom
Behind eyelids I’m spinning
like carny fair attraction
Mollie would have me ride
for pleasure of her laughter.
Kesha in my ears.
Whiskey in my veins.
Eyes closed.
Reaching for childhood secret
to last year’s confession.
Could it be time?
I’ll dance first
and then let you know.
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
Afraid of the water
but desperate for memory
dying for liquid blue
and sun daze
of historical bliss;
we split the difference and now there’s only
the gathering and it’s aftermath.
The express train is overwhelmed and runs local.
A wise, if inconvenient choice.
Monsters lurk just out of view
but they’re old friends
and I would embrace them
if they dared step into my light.
Man at my right
reads all as I scrawl
but looks away shamed
at being so named.
It matters not.
The monsters are still there.
They want to burn down my simple joy
but only because they’re cold and lonely.
“Come.
Join my fire.
No need for us to be enemies.
We are brothers of the same trauma;
pieces of a collective whole.
Our birthday approaches.
Coalesce. Experience. Rejoice. Weep.
Remember when we were only one little hungry child?
Adulthood comes for us all.
Don’t fight.
Face it with me.
Can’t leave you behind.
We are stronger together.”
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
Before our partnership was born
I bled in desperation
blood for blood
my spirit torn
bereft of integration
past & present
interwoven
divided over years
you saw my life was badly broken
guided me through tears
you wouldn’t judge and helped
as this beginner deeply delved
without a touch you held
as I embraced my other selves
and what achieved together
I acknowledge here with pride
for you have changed my life forever
and left me well supplied
with lessons learned
and skill sets earned
you’ve taught me that I’m able
to meet this end
success my friend
for you I’m always grateful.
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
For Jamie Bloom
Reading old words
written by younger self
with partial memories stirred,
fleeting moments recorded,
stolen experiences
lost in time,
with these bone fragments
left behind to ponder / decipher…
Pieces of a larger whole;
impossible to imagine.
Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2017
I thought it quite hopeless:
the sinking of sailors
this future of men
historical failures
regardless of numbers
of men you’ve seen naked
when love is your goal
then truth is what’s sacred.
You find what is right
divided your vanity
profound and forthright
provided profanity
your life can be balanced
to challenge insanity
your strife can be silenced
by licensed humanity.
Confession is destined
to threaten the legend
with ill timing rhymes
keeping time with suggestions
of paradigms mined
which cheapen perfection:
to deepen my crimes
I ask myself questions…
Can vintaged affliction
for starters be shagged?
Are satisfied victims
just martyrs in drag?
Yes what of those sailors
you suckled in waves?
That fleet of men cuddled
then left to their graves?
Each master troubled
by freedom from slaves…
Beneath the sheets struggled
bereft of enclaves.
Can seamen be free men
unshackled from lust?
Can jocks with the cocks
that tackled love, trust?
What tax unleashed
by men so deceived?
Can climax be reached
before they’re conceived?
Can we release
when these stakes seem too much?
or will we repeat
these mistakes when we touch?
Written by Jason Wright
August 6, 2017