When Benjamin Blushes

When Benjamin blushes
my grind starts to ponder
and that we are rimless is strange.

When Benjamin blushes
my mind starts to wander
and all that was sinless is changed.

When Benjamin blushes
the youth provides shivers
the ardor of which is infecting.

When Benjamin blushes
the truth behind zippers
is harder than one was expecting.

His blush
is worth a hundred thrusts,
His smile
worth a million.

His words may wax poetic
(prophetic?)
but is that wax a Brazilian?

When Benjamin blushes
my mind is forbidding
and my thoughts are wrought (led astray).

When Benjamin blushes
but who am I kidding –
I always have viewed him this way.

Though mostly in jest
and not at my best
this scribble provided amusement.

I’m mostly just joking
and being provoking
One must excuse my bemusement.

For we do as we’re bidden
when we can’t be ridden
when there in the gentleman’s clutches…

We are given permission
and all is forgiven;
ensnared when Benjamin blushes.

Written by Jason Wright
October 31, 2019

The Powers of Charlie Bottom

The look in his eyes
of innocence wise;
hardly has this blaze been stopped.

The cleft in his chin
makes us all want to sin
yet Charlie has always been tops.

But deep in the past
there’s a question that’s asked
and a standard comprising a prism.

Openly yearning
from hope he is learning
the answer is: “Lies are a prison.”

When left in the sun
and bereft of his fun
his toys melted into each other.

Left there in the heat;
deft care (incomplete),
his boys belted there to teach others.

His potency proven
is cogently human;
from Charlie the cowards took shelter.

Embracing his power;
his plaything deflowered;
young Charlie devoured his elders.

Written by Jason Wright
October 31, 2019

Daniel’s Procession

The last of summer fades
as future lovers trade on trust

the tasked discover glades
with suitors splayed beneath the thrust

the chill arrives with fever
as the preacher feins amusement

the thrill provides procedure
as the teacher tames a student

change of time once captured
in this prism light of fall

estranged sublime enraptured
in the schism bright of thrall

brought him to surrender
like agrarian set on fire

autumn victim’s splendor;
a grammarian of desire.

Written by Jason Wright
October 26, 2019

The Procession is Over

On the Monday train
Sunday’s tear stained aftermath
is muted, faded watercolor sketch
of last night’s confusion and misery –
with photo slides behind closed eyes
of family’s autumn life celebration,
Daniel’s text exchanges,
Brandon Lee Gameboy photo,
unseen moron homophobe hell discussion…

And Aaron’s weeping exhaustion
which left me reeling in confusion,
doubt, anger & regret.

Written by Jason Wright
October 21, 2019

As They Say

I wasn’t going to write this.
I wasn’t going to say.

Not gonna tell you at all
but then my thoughts decided to stray.

I wasn’t going to whisper.
I wasn’t going to scream.

Not gonna answer your call
but then our cocks decided to cream.

And then (as they say) it was over.
And then (as they say) we were spent.

And then (as they say) we were sober
but by then we could not repent…

because none of this ever happened;
it was all of it just for a lark…

no matter the truth
which was spent (as they say)
as we went (as they say)
in the dark.

Written by Jason Wright
October 15, 2019

Subjective Completion

Good work today
leaves me shaky
with uncovered thoughts
never spoken aloud before now.

This, in the wake of constantly
inspiring sex magic
and long brewing poetry
which has finally come to fruition.

A culminating event,
seemingly mundane,
but truthfully described as curative,
healthful and life affirming.

I explore, unravel, pursue and consider,
disassemble, examine and unscrew
before I ultimately deliver my masterpiece truth.

Integrated. Realized. Accomplished. Achieved. Finished.

Completed.

Like owning artwork,
finally contained
in the most perfect frame,
worthy of its inspiration
and suitable for display.

Attainment consummated
by way of intimate regimental honesty.

We must,
each and every one of us,
arrive at our own individual conclusions.

Written by Jason Wright
October 14, 2019

Inundated Elegy

of flings everlasting
the cost is abhorrent

of things shaped in passing
things lost in the torrent

depicting December’s
deceased drowned in blood

these six we remember
do not cease the flood

the cold of the water
the brown of the rust

the bold brush with slaughter
which drowned with a thrust

the dicks in stark alleys
baseless surrendering

the tricks in dark valleys
the faceless assembling

the “FAGGOT” in red
painted plain as can be

the pain and the dread
taint the slain with Godspeed

breadth unencumbered
we won’t condescend

death of such number
we don’t comprehend

we sever the wicks
lest the flames lose their touch

yet don’t blame the six
when the rest is too much

Written by Jason Wright
October 14, 2019

For Joseph Reese Anderson
and the countless, often unrecognized victims of the AIDS pandemic.

Aaron Impression

A weekend away
with a view of a river.

Where Waldo was found
to be an underage baby gay
with heavy lidded eyes
and a Southern Comfort smile;
who’d once had his heart broken
after merely two weeks…
but then broken hearts can happen
in far less time than that.

Waldo drove one of Mario’s carts,
homing in on rainbow stripes worn
on bald headed fairy
(more than twice his age),
who was himself besotted with the man
who bore Waldo’s birth name.

Wally danced to oldies
while a former lover’s ghost
strummed his beautiful guitar solos,
before and after which Waldo blushed
beautifully and repeatedly,
endearing himself to his queer tribal elders.

But Wally, having finally been found,
disappeared just as quickly;
no goodbyes, no traces left behind
save vague impressions and random photos
which did not do his memory justice.

Written by Jason Wright
October 12, 2019

For Aaron K.

I hope that you find your way in the world;
it’s all the brighter for having you in it.

The Man (Betwixt Thirtysomethings)

Betwixt thirtysomethings
which no one can master.

Eclipsed by the flings
which grow from disaster.

Unseen by each other
we tumble hereafter.

Between one another we
stumble through laughter.

A man at the heart of us;
breaking and taking…

That man is a part of us:
waking and quaking…

Examine our lawlessness;
humbly and shaking…

The man inside all of us:
hungry and aching.

Amongst us he hides
and displays and divides;

discusses insides
and betrays and collides;

disgusted by nothing
which this man provides;

Us thrusting and blushing
is why the man thrives.

The man wants our souls
and our sex as well…

The man haunts our holes
and affects our farewells…

The man is the devil
and drags us to hell…

The man likes to rebel
without cause to tell.

The man is disruptive
but just below surface.

The man is corruptive
to slaves in his service.

The man is unnerving
but we all deserve this.

The man is a showman
and we are his circus.

The man is a duelist;
subtly jubilant,
brokenly flawless
when facing our youth.

He’s not an exclusionist;
not an illusionist,
openly honest:
embracing our truth.

The man is a gentleman;
shares with us: medicine:
compliments sprayed
and then rubbed into lather.

Man is adrenaline;
snares us with cinnamon,
documents splayed
that when snubbed do not matter.

The man as described
does not quite exist…

The uncircumscribed
subsist in abyss…

But unrecognized
they crawl from our thoughts
and unrealized
they sprawl in our spots…

They twist into something
we wish we could capture;

betwixt thirtysomethings
made squeamish by rapture.

Written by Jason Wright
October 12, 2019

For Christopher, Ahmed & Javier,
who inspired the seed from which this madness sprang.

Janet Lynn

You were my lover
until the night that you weren’t.

You called me Janet…
in the green shaded sunlight streams
(like a stained glass painting)
where we ran naked
beneath that haunted woodland canopy.

I, daring to travel
to forbidden places
which our fathers forbade…
to pluck the rose
whose thorns did prick,
beading blood from innocent skin.

On that final night
you called me Lynn…
(my misspelled middle name)
when I appeared naked before you
on the edge of twilight forest storm clouds;
there, where I was deflowered
by a fairy queen’s decree.

It was there,
in the shadow of such
bewildering and bruising beauty
that you abandoned me,
never to return.

As I had been counseled,
I held tight to myself
when you would have
let me go…

And being unsaved,
I saved myself,
even as you faltered
and fled.

True, I haunted that place
on the following,
on the morrow,
as I brushed past tree limbs
still wet with last night’s
cleansing rain.

I walked to the spot where we’d smoked;
the remains of last night’s victims,
the evidence which proved
that last night’s disaster
had indeed taken place…
a world shattering event
which we have never discussed.

That woodland fairyland
is a cursed place
which returns
to haunt my dreams.

That night I had been transformed
into many creatures,
into many forms,
burned away to nothing
and reborn from the ashes.

Janet and Lynn united in a pairing
you could not possibly conceive of.

And thus combined,
and bereft of your touch,
I stumbled into the morning
to learn what we’d become.

Written by Jason Wright
October 7, 2019

For Michael C.

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