To Dream of Keys

I’ve been dreaming about keys
to trains and to hearts…

I’ve been scheming on leaving
on a train that departs…

From deep underground
where I live in the city…

A train we’ve not dreamed;
so silent and pretty…

A train made of truth
and sealed by my heart…

My train of thought
was once ripped apart…

And so I dream of keys
that may bring back our dreams…

We once dreamed of trains
and how strange that now seems…

But we once shared your visions
so I’ll give you this key…

In hopes that you may
yet in dreams visit me.

Written by Jason Wright
December 24, 2012

For Janice Jeffrey

Would Be Assassins

I’m mostly a bottom
yet in dreams often top.

And walking behind him
I imagined a lot.

I dreamed him impaled
on my bliss and more.

He begged for it
weeping
and struck the right chord.

I thought it quite shameless;
this dream of seduction.

I confessed it
complete;
no thoughts of destruction.

And then I was told
what I couldn’t have known…

Before I was loved
betrayal was shown…

And my lust turned to sadness
and quickly unraveled…

That anyone hurt him
or made him feel fragile…

Though they couldn’t break him
they basically tried…

They wounded the heart
where my love now resides…

And they may now be friends
and they may have forgiven…

But it kills me to think
that he may have been victim.

Written by Jason Wright
October 15, 2012

For the three people who inspired it,
who aren’t named here as to preclude another cycle of pain.

Religious Irony

A one night stand
of the ultimate kind…

I only just had one
inside of my mind…

The sex was so real
I even took pictures…

But the faggot was Jesus
and he read me his scriptures.

If the pictures got out
then they’d all crucify him…

They’d fire his ass
and would not deify him…

And I’d show them to you
but I know that he’s right…

Sex is fantastic
but his boss makes it trite…

His people would hurt him
and no one could save him…

No one would dare
to believe in or praise him…

And I don’t want that;
that’s not why I captured us…

He was just so damned hot
and his beauty enraptured us…

And I wanted to share
that beauty with everyone…

Wanted to brag how
he was so handsome…

I felt so inspired
and this is not sarcasm…

I wanted to share my joy
and orgasm…

But the pictures were burned
and the copies deleted…

My intentions were true
yet by truth were defeated…

But the truth is he fucked me
then his friends fucked me too…

The first time: I loved it
but that group shit was screwed…

Because I’m just as innocent
as any of them…

Hypocrites! All of them…

Peace out…

Amen.

Written by Jason Wright
October 5, 2012

Smoking. In Kitchen.

“Smoking in kitchen”
is what you had said.

Not what you meant;
least not in my head.

So I’m pressed
against glass
in kitchen
in view…

Stroking,
Caressing
and thinking of you.

You smile at my lust
in the pictures revealed.

My body and thrust
with nothing concealed.

You say that with muscles
I’d be quite unstoppable.

But I have no interest
in being un-top-able.

Written by Jason Wright
October 4, 2012

Ignorant Child

Sixteen years since
I gave birth to blood…

Escaped from within me
and erupted in flood….

I’ve never recovered
yet it left me prepared…

I now have a mother
who isn’t so scared…

Unless you’re dark skinned
and in power I guess…

Her views are impaired
but her love leaves me blessed.

Written by Jason Wright
October 4, 2012

Night of Tears

You seem to be safe
but I’m scared to believe.

You tell me you see
while you cry and I grieve.

I’m trying right now
to trust and let go…

I’m trying right now
but it’s hard to control.

I struggle and fail
but there’s progress in truth…

I’m already better:
you’re reading the proof.

Written by Jason Wright
October 3, 2012

THE COWBOY AND THE PRIEST

The priest and the cowboy
who murdered each other…

Killed with a kindness
they both thought was clever…

Zombie decay
decomposed into lust…

With nightmares more deadly
than panic or trust…

For shades hide between
what is real and is right…

They look so alive
when seen in the light…

But night time,
it blossoms them into the dying…

They can’t understand
why they’re bleeding and crying…

They can’t understand
why their pain has increased…

And they won’t find the truth
until pain is let loose…

And life can infuse
both cowboy and priest.

Written by Jason Wright
NOVEMBER 5, 2011

On our first Halloween together, Aaron dressed as a cowboy and I dressed as a priest. We went to a party and I got a call from Sean Mobley who let me know that his father had died. The party had a karaoke portion and I saw “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan in honor of Ted.

THE OPPOSITE OF LOVE

You were “the one”,
that’s what my friends said…

But you were a lie
and a ghost in my head…

You’re so insecure
and you struck while I slept…

You made me afraid
it was my fault I wept…

But my life is changing;
Believe me…
It’s true.

You can’t hurt me now:
I’m indifferent to you.

Written By Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011


For Michael Slaughter –

HATRED ESCAPE

I’m caught in a trap
and I need to get out…

I need to break free
of my own sense of doubt…

I need to believe
that I can survive…

I can’t let myself
be buried alive…

I hate what has happened
to childhood me…

I hate that I listened
to Father’s dark plea…

I hate that the Michael
I knew never stayed…

I hate that my brother
has left me betrayed…

I hate that I hate this;
it just gives me grief…

I hate that my sickness
has trumped my belief…

But I love those I’ve known
and I can’t just desert them…

So I try to keep breathing
and try not to hurt them.

Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011

For Jason

FOUR DAYS ENCHANTED

Compassion is given;
mistaken for lies…

A powerful weapon,
a question…but why?

Why play such games?
Why smile and sing?

Experience teaches
to not trust such things.

Yet I love the way that he sings a smile
and the way that his intellect reconciles…
Logic,
Success,
And things never guessed…
Except in his eyes
filled with things unexpressed.

He can sing,
He can act,
And in short, do it all…

Yet he doesn’t attack
or make you feel small…

His voice is a gift
you’re lucky to receive…

And the passion he carries
makes you grieve & believe…

Yet the power held there
is most naked and strong…

When he whispers against you
while held in your arms:

In that muted darkness
when he speaks to just you…

It’s then that you see that
his power is true.

It’s not just a game
though it isn’t a promise…

Things don’t always last
when whispered in darkness…

Yet I want to know more
and that’s really quite rare…

And I guess I just want him
to know that I care.

Written By Jason Wright
October 25, 2011

For Aaron Sanko

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