BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
Robert Smith’s “promise of a kiss”
seen through lightning flash rain fall blinds
is unintentional mirror
of November eighteenth nude:
“Let’s Go to Bed.”
His Profile
My Profile
The Profile sings between fingers and pages
combining all of our afterimages
with an ink black twist.
Written by Jason Wright
November 28, 2017
When man disappears
and returns as another…
Remember his name
as if he were your lover…
For names hold more meaning
than Juliet queried…
The essence is dense
despite Vampire Theory…
And he deserves better
than a name that’s not his…
Worth more than a score
for his compliment kiss…
And now that I’ve met him
I’ll always remember…
At least long enough
to survive this December.
Written by Jason Wright
November 21, 2017
For Jon
I’m sitting right across from you
when you tell me how much you want to hurt me,
how much it will pleasure you to humiliate me,
how much you want to take what is mine,
use it for your own gain,
and leave me to wander
cluelessly,
ashamed and defeated.
I’m sitting right across from you
but what you don’t see
is that I’m not the man you thought I was,
and all your schemes were mine
before they were yours.
You think he’s sitting right across from you
but I’ve taken his place
and the words that were meant for him;
the words meant to conquer me
and raise you up have given me the greatest satisfaction
I can imagine.
I am afraid,
but it is the fear of an entertainer
about to take to the stage
where my most impressive performance
(which I’ve trained for my entire life)
is about to begin at last.
You are a liar and a manipulator.
You are hurtful and obscene.
But I am something you could not see coming.
And though you wish to hurt me
I thank you from behind my disguise
for you too have an integral role to play.
You, with the help of my co-conspirator,
will push me beyond those boundaries
I have never dared to traverse,
even though the core of who I am
has always ached to cross that line.
And in that gleaming treacherous climax
where all masks lead to the truth,
we will be transformed…
And you, in plotting my downfall,
will bring me to my utter salvation.
Written by Jason Wright
November 8, 2017
A childhood nursery fantasy
has become an obsession of late.
Everyday I become someone else that I love
so that I can have some hope of witnessing
what was once deemed impossible.
Love & trust make this elixir attainable
but I’m driven completely by sex: a walking hardon.
Always a sexual creature…
Always willing and able
to gladly explore any kink
that struck my fancy…
Those demons were expunged upon arrival.
All but this impossibly complicated
riddle of a contradiction.
This place is beyond anywhere
I’ve ever willingly been.
This unexplored erotic nightmare of flesh is:
urgent, vital, joyous at finally receiving my attention.
This dream cocaine has made me into a liar,
an enthusiastic victim,
a nearly celibate slut
who yearns for desolation…
a chance at reconnection with
that hardly humiliated farm boy in
those locker room communal showers.
As a child I held such unfulfilled desires
but put them to bed (where I have now joined them).
By assuring him that everything is
and always will be okay,
I have traveled full circle –
returning through time to bless his lust,
circumvent shame,
encourage exploration,
and guiding him to disregard their influence;
to tame the monsters that would otherwise haunt him
until the day that he once again completed this paradox puzzle.
Written by Jason Wright
November 7, 2017
Ride
inside me
Drive
deprive me
Tease
Reprise me
Please
Believe me!
Short and sweet
(yet incomplete)
the rhythm changes
(rearranges)
as words estrange…
I’m so deranged.
These words portray
a troubled mind
bored to play
in doubled blind
in senseless drivel
wrong and deep
endless sibilant
song of sleep.
Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017
Bleak sin plantation
of bitterness bleach.
Darken my eyes
and study my lips.
Speak incantation
of gibberish speech.
Pardon my thighs
and bloody my bitch.
Night I decided was
night never chosen.
Blood suck syringe
pause rejoice afraid.
Sight that divided applause
never spoken.
And fucking the fringe
was a choice never made.
Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017
I see him undressing
through counting of sheep.
I see him caressing
around where I sleep.
I breathe in his secret
as you play the game.
I witness my weakness
for lust laced with shame.
This dream leaves me broken
though roused when it beckons.
I dream of these moments
more often than seconds.
Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017