Category: Jason’s Favorite Poems

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Sparking the Dragons

I finally break ground
on what he never heard.

I finally break down
as I listen to her
designedly drowned
in dimes and volkswagens…

I finally get down
In (these) Times of Dragons.

I’ve kissed and I’ve thought
of the old wrongs renewed…

I’ve listened a lot
to the old songs he knew…

We SPARK to prolong
what will never appear…

It’s dark to hear songs
that he won’t ever hear.

Written by Jason Wright
May 7, 2026

For Sean – who would have loved the new Tori Amos album.



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I listened to the new songs 6 days after the release of “In Times of Dragons” and I thought I was fine, but then I thought of Sean never getting to hear this and I wept in the shower. Aaron noticed I was sad but I was tired and unable to talk about it. I’ll explain it later. If I could give Sean this album I would. But I can’t, and that hurts. – Jason




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“And Go Into the West”

1

Disparaged Gilgamesh
forsakes the raging scars of scorn.

As marriage of the flesh
takes the stage and we are born.

Archived in the symbol’s light
that mends us when we’re broken.

Our lives are but a single night
that ends before we’ve woken.

A night of savage
strain
that’s part discomfort;
part despair.

A right of passage
(PAIN)
that’s hard to comfort
without prayer.

But the tributes that they spoke
were only lies about the queers.

Distributing the woke
with open eyes to shed their tears.

2

They prayed to feed the hunger –
wasn’t heard in all the chatter.

They say that I look younger
but it doesn’t really matter.

I’m older than I was
and I will be ’till I’m dead.

A bolder man because
I still believe in what was said.

The fairytales and prayers
are pretty stories
as we age…

The marriage failed –
affairs are pitied glories
on the stage…

And the words we speak…
the lies enmeshed in flesh are all but finished.

We fade away to seek
the guise of Gilgamesh diminished.

Written By Jason Wright
April 25, 2026

As I write now, I think I may start taking notes of what I was thinking about when I wrote because I’m uploading many poems from my archives and many of them don’t say what they’re about, and having written thousands of them, over several decades, I don’t always remember what I was thinking or feeling. I also often dedicated a poem to someone and only wrote their first names, and I often can’t remember who this or that person was, so I’m probably going to put that in context moving forward.

As for this piece, I was thinking about how people often tell me that I look younger than I am, which is nice, but I let it fool me for awhile, that because I looked younger, then I actually was younger. But I’m not. I’m still as old as I am. And assuming there are no issues with my health or an accident or whatever, I’m still that much closer to dying. Bodies only last for so long. And as I wrote that down I started thinking about religion, myth, prayer, how homophobia pushes many people away from religion, and how for a time I had really horrible night terrors having to do with imagining death – both my own and / or Aaron’s. I’ve worked on the latter and while I expect it will possibly crop up again, it doesn’t haunt me quite as much as it once did. The title is a veiled reference to the diminishment of Gilgamesh, via Galadriel in the Lord or the Rings: “I pass the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.”

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We Are Not Safe

They came for them first
(in the middle of the night).

They shamed with their spittle
what they deemed wasn’t right.

They said in this place
we were safe;
we were right.

They said we were safe
then because we were white.

But then they called us monsters;
dullard spies…
and then deployed.

And the many stalled responders
lulled by lies
were then destroyed.

And the ones who thought to trust us
fought for justice;
thus were smeared…
as we find
that in this place
we are not safe
because we’re queer.

Written by Jason Wright
October 5, 2025

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Remembering

Remembering me
remembering you,

Remember me
trembling and entering you,

You bent over backwards
to take me all in,

You spent all your watchwords
to absolve your sin,

You masked your own soul
then held me (afraid),

You cast me in roles
that I seldom have played,

To hide your respect
from suspected informants,

It was you who directed
my erected performance.

You who inspired
your own inspiration.

You who desired
your own devastation.

I thought you were certain
but you were pretending,

You brought down the curtain
and with it our ending.

Written by Jason Wright
May 15, 2025

For Andrew James Black

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When Criminals Lead Us

Watching the news
I am chilled and I’m sickened
by thrall of the crisis
which made its debut…

These shocking truths
have filled me
and quickened the call of the righteous –
beleaguered and true.

Our government
lacks a soul or compassion –
our President lies
as civil rights crumble…
standing in judgment
of control collapsed factions
as reticent cries
from the heights
start to stumble.

The choices of monsters
enshrined by the truthless –
the respected & modest
are damned by their dictums…
the voices of sponsors
designed to be ruthless –
the elected dishonest
demand us as victims…

for we pay the price –

what they say is official…
when they spy and deploy
bad guys to deride us…
when they take civil rights
they make us uncivil…
then they lie to destroy
and try to divide us
with erroneous tools
who say they are decent
prejudice(d) preachers
who practice a skit…
felonious fools
who are simply malfeasant
excrement seekers
who attack us with shit.

Advancement aligned
with cheats for their cause…
incels incited for fear
they’re invisible
klansmen who hide
behind sheets and the cross:
indicted dickheads –
so (fucking) predictable.

To keep us confined
they miserably treat us…

We are maligned
but these imbeciles need us…

We are defined by our principals –

HEED US!

We must not be blind
when criminals lead us.

Written by Jason Wright
February 14, 2025

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From July to September

It is September 4, 2021
and I’ve decided that
I’m taking a break today.

I’m at Riverview Campground
and I’m missing my mom.

This is the hardest hitting day
because the memories are Little Jason’s;
our mother wasn’t perfect…
but she had graceful, beautiful,
quiet, unrecorded moments,
which are all I am remembering today…
1 day after what would have been their 39th anniversary.

At times, our mother seemed psychic.

She begged me not to take Jamie to the theater
to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show;
she told me that something terrible was happening
and though Jamie never forgave me,
I knew that our mother believed what she was saying
and I broke my promise and left Jamie at home…

Later, Paul (who I had seen Rocky with the previous year)
called to say that he had been raped across the street from Oz.
She knew. Somehow she knew.

And she knew about Katie.
And she knew about other things…

Back in my memories and
my mother is looking out
across the low green field,
storm rolling in toward our backyard –

I’m a small boy child,
clinging to her mysterious silence,
her wary hypnotized gaze is exhilarating
in its graceful stillness…

The emerald sky sparks
and forms tear drops
over Janet Lynn forest
years before that tragic coupling
will leave me forever scarred
and always haunted;
a dark harbinger of things to come.

Could she see all of that then?
I’ve never imagined that she could…
but who is to say what stirred within her?

“The shameful secret she never shared.”

Written by Jason Wright
September 4, 2021

For Myra Canell

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Sex At Sixteen

At sixteen years old
the sex was degrading.

At sixteen years cold
my sex life was blazing.

At sixteen years gold
my next life: amazing.

At sixteen years bold
the sex was emblazing.

It colored my outlook
and flattered highlights.

It numbered black book
and lacquered my nights.

It painted my soul
with shades unimagined.

It tainted my whole
for decades and fashioned
me into myself
which was separate from others:
apart from my family, their God
and my lovers.

Sex was between
myself and desire.

Sex at sixteen
was a trial by fire.

Written by Jason Wright
February 23, 2020

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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

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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

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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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