Seventh Drowning

Don’t stop for strangers;
they’re likely fish women,

The sex and the dangers
are strictly forbidden,

The songs and the smells
lead always to madness,

And she that was wanted
will leave your soul haunted…

Will leave and then cleave you in two
through your sadness.

Written by Jason Wright
July 31, 2017

This is She

Girl will finish drowning
for the seventh time in four years;
she must be pretty adept by now.

Each She is a fragment.
Each fragment is a piece of Mollie.

Mollie Ann Baker is an imp
who’s initials reveal a faerie queen
beneath the glittering surface
of Tennessee water that her people
refuse to bathe in.

The water spills
out of a holy well which,
when penetrated deeply (and wetly) reveals Tam Lin
in all his naked transformative glory.

Hold tight to that one
and he’ll give you the happily ever after
you’ve been waiting for,
or so the minstrels say.

He always slips through my fingers
when he recognizes me as the Dana to his Zor,
primed for immolation; devastated to be losing me once again.
Thrice damned. Forever haunted.

Faerie Queen Mab (M.A.B.) doesn’t actually
hold the prince as prisoner;
not for love & never for sacrifice.

Blood Queen is happiest in the embrace of
ocean smelling mermaid ghost werewolves,
twice devoured by terrifying thing
beneath what is seen by the sane and the deadly dull.

Mother and daughter,
frothy creature is beautiful, sad,
not entirely human (if at all).

My Mab could teach her a few songs, I’m sure.

My Mab is more than human,
extraordinary beyond us all
and yet sister to worlds within worlds;
she holds us all in her ginger wreathed
collection of dreams, nightmares and visions,
gives us meaning, laughter, mirth
and a sobering empathetic sorrow
that we might appreciate the solace
found within her coils.

Mab, beheld is a monstrous beauty
which wild with grief for events still to come
still gives precious smiles…

And when lucky mustard seed bottle cap talismans
shatter the glass to be pocketed like coins —
with that much luck and a fire of bones
‘neath lilting pipes
on nights when the Unseelie Court
dance naked round Old Oak’s Children
of acorn and water lily…
On nights such as these
our Mab may summon her human type voice,
call through the wires to shock, bless, talk
of when we were once human together
in Michigan type semblance of life.

Lucky am I
for recognizing the wonder
that so many mistake
for imagined mysticism.

M.A.B., My Mab, My Mollie, Queen of Faerie, Sib of my heart:
Bless us all with a sea siren song of words through thine art.

Written by Jason Wright
July 31, 2017

For Mollie Baker

Facebook comments.

Fluid Regression

Training again…
Will nervousness end?

Hunger and thirst
that I can’t comprehend?

I stopped twice for both
but left empty handed.

Craving for more than
time had demanded.

Not making sense though
I strive through sensation…

Although I starve
and long for hydration.

Written by Jason Wright
July 30, 2017

The Impossible

I’ve had adventures
and I have explored,
and I had achieved
every possible score,
but you’re taking me further;
you are the key…

Enslaved to desires:
you’re setting me free.

Written by Jason Wright
July 28, 2017

For Aaron

“all I use”

my headphones are broken
already ripped open
could not find the cloth
and I’m running late

don’t know that I want this
can I stand here dressed like this?
goth boy is sweating
panic on train

but breathe and get through this
you know you can do this
you just have to break from
your mind’s lonely cage

I’ll dry and arrive there
Jamie will not care
get it all done
and you’ll be all the rage

Written by Jason Wright
July 27, 2017

A Kiss on the Window

Jeff was my lover
when we watched “The Lover”
a novel I’ve read
a handful of times.

I have the music
I chose to live through it
it can make me sad
to think of those times.

The smell of him naked
that memory faded
can often be vivid
when he lingers there.

He came here to see me
L.A. to N.Y.C.
“Black is the color
of my true love’s hair”.

He was here and I saw him
his smile was awesome
and our kiss goodnight
was a ghost lost in time…

I longed to devour
him there in his tower
but I walked away then
from what once was mine.

And maybe he’ll miss this
or maybe dismiss this
my words as a candy kiss
swoon of a child.

But I mean what I’m writing
still find him exciting
no point now in hiding
Jeff left me beguiled.

Written by Jason Wright
July 27, 2017

Bedtime

Ready for bed
and yet I am writing.

I’d rather be sleeping
so why am I fighting?

Maybe because I’m asleep and I’m dreaming
of writing awake as I’m quietly screaming:
GO! TO! SLEEP!

Written by Jason Wright
July 26, 2017

Playing the Game

He turns to reveal
the pass he has made,
So bad he’s made Vlad
stand erect without aid,
And we wait for response
as I yearn for the trade…
The words go unheard
but once read they degrade.

That’s what I needed.
That’s what I wanted.

I need to be teased.
I need to be taunted.

I need to be damaged
and drowned in their piss.

But in losing the game
I am winning in bliss.

But it’s more than just that;
it’s more complicated…

It’s more than a need
to be masturbated.

The rules are a treasure;
a pleasure inflamed…

When we must explore…

Our lives and more…

We gamble and score
in the shame we call game.

Written by Jason Wright
July 26, 2017

Formative Words

A month ago broken
yet we still exist.

Those words that were spoken
by Aaron persist

In shaping our future;
his words were not wasteful.

His words were a cougar
that fed on the faithful.

His words were confession
to me as his priest.

His words were a question
to my ears bequeathed.

His words begged an answer;
I wept as I gave it.

Our love had a cancer
but we sought to save it.

He by admission
and I by permission…

We both fought to save us
from death by attrition…

The pain from his past
held our love in a casket…

For future transgression
he begged with a question
I responded when asked it:

“You need it? Then have it.”

The distance between us
once traveled would heal us,

And words that were spoken
could not now conceal us,

And so we embraced
what would now become real,

Free from the pain that
we both had to feel,

Free to make choices
denied before changes,

To use our own voices
describing new strangeness,

The action is called;
we respond to sensation…

The laws of attraction
beyond transformation.

Written by Jason Wright
July 25, 2017

The Hungry Hooker

Doubling down
on singles and triples,
Struggling; drowning
on past participles,
Juggling clowns
while writing in riddles,
A whore wanting more
is hardly original.

So pay me no heed
while I bleed and I splutter,
Or pay me with sweetness;
with penis (and rubber),
We all know my weakness
technique motherfucker…
Lets lose ourselves
in the shells of each other.

Written by Jason Wright
July 25, 2017

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