Category: Jason’s Favorite Poems

Posted on

Divisional Shadows

The divisional shadows
of the math we inspire;
derision of prose
by the wrath of desire
has led me astray
like a pawn to your laughter:
send me away
at the dawn of disaster.

Cock crows the call of
this glamor forbidden,
the clock on the wall
is a camera I’ve hidden,
and sight swarms the notion
of friendly portrayal
as light forms the motion
intent on betrayal.

My eyes disappear
as my brain overloads.

Beneath chandelier
I feel drained and exposed.

The world starts to shimmer;
I head to the gallows…

As glimmer of hope
is divided by shadows.

Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2026

Inspired by a particularly kinky dream I had. It’s also an expanded fragment which began when I started typing words onto a collage for this site:

Posted on

The Masochist’s Dream

What I want
on BIRTH / DAY
is to see you undone.

To find worth in fray…
To be there when you cum.

Spending our pleasure
in treasured foul play.

The unending show of
pretending to stray.

In opera of trust
to be played by the playful…

The opera of lust
left us splayed and unfaithful.

These schemes of seduction;
a librettist’s triad…

My dreams of destruction
are the wettest I’ve had.

And as we conspire:
breathless / delusional.

Things I desire:
senselessly usual.

I am your boy
when the handsome and beautiful
leave me destroyed
when you are unsuitable.

Always pretending
to be my sad savior.

A catechist’s cream
is just as astrictory.

Always depending
on their bad behavior…

The masochist’s dream
is so contradictory.

Written by Jason Wright
August 8, 2026

Posted on

IMAGINED ATTRACTION

A few years before
our friend lay down dead,

You said I was handsome…
or that’s what she’d said,

That’s all I remembered
and I could not fathom
why boy I remembered
would think I was handsome.

But when I looked back
she’d said quite a lot…

She spoke of my family
and what you had thought,

But I didn’t ask
for more at the time

so I’m left in the dark
of remarks about crimes.

Written by Jason Wright
August 7, 2026

Posted on

And Now He Isn’t

When I was just 17
I fell for his pain.

He was different from me
and yet we were the same.

There between walls
and hospital beds…

There where we said
all the things left unsaid.

All but the truth
of the love that I felt.

But I know that he knew it;
he told me himself.

He signed it in ink
on a board for goodbyes

as we crossed the brink
to begin our own lives.

I thought he was gone;
though in dreams he was near.

“We must love our loved ones
while we have them here.”

And I swooned
as I grieved
and then one day I healed…

Before the wound
cleaved me in two
and revealed…

That he was alive;
it was I who had died.

And all that I’d felt
was because of a lie.

Written by Jason Wright
July 24, 2026

For Brian – on his 50th birthday.

Posted on

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.



*
*
*
*
*

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




Posted on

“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.”

Posted on

The Third Conversion

I was just Twenty-Six
(October 2000)
when I met a man
(though I still dream about him)
and now nearly double
I read what was written
when he seemed like trouble
and wholly forbidden.

I was just Twenty-Six
(November 2000)
when I lost that man
(but still wrote about him)
we read of vampires;
that’s what I named us;
thirst for the shameless
and cursed by our lust.

And in then ninety-nine,
one year before,
the best Pet Shop Boys
had also explored…
I didn’t remember
or I didn’t care
that vampire boys
already compared
to men doing things
to men in the dark,
he tasted my blood
and then stole my heart.

On November 8 of 2026
I will be fifty-two
and remember the kiss;
remember the blood,
the cum and the piss
shared with a man when I was twenty-six.

On November 8 of 2026
I will be fifty-two…

The B-52s?

I will be fifty-two…
twenty-six times two.

Written by Jason Wright
March 21, 2026

Posted on

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

Posted on

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

Posted on

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

error: Content is protected !!