Category: Jason’s Favorite Poems

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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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The Tears of the Lizard

The lizard was magic.

The lizard was strange.

The lizard was tragic.

The lizard was change.

The lizard was impulse;
a blizzard recalled.

The lizard was symbol;
not lizard at all.

He came through my dreams;
flirtatious and fervent.

He shamed the shy screams:
fallacious serpent.

He slithered and withered
with a look from his eyes…

What wizard delivered;
the lizard was wise.

He curled up inside me
bereft from the world.

He swirled up astride me
and left me unfurled.

He left me haunting
the land he’d departed.

He left me wanting
the man he’d discarded.

The man I could be
if only I could…

The man I would see
if only I should…

The man who woke up
as in my ear he whispered…

A plan to soak up
the tears of the lizard.

Written by Jason Wright
May 14, 2020

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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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Trying Times

Try not to scream;
struggle to whisper.

Try to redeem
what was fucked up by scripture.

Try to outline
what can’t be contained.

Try to outshine
what in shadows was shamed.

Try to revive
what in vast strife had chilled you.

Try to survive
what in past life had killed you.

Written by Jason Wright
October 7, 2019

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Always

You tell him that sex with me
will be completely emotionless for you,
or at least that’s what I hear without really listening,
but what you truly said is that
our sexual activity
will be completely emotionless for US,
but that’s not wholly accurate…
because I will feel something;
if I didn’t already feel something
I wouldn’t even bother.

You say that people don’t usually
FUCK their ex-boyfriends,
which I find funny
because so far,
they’re the only people I fuck,
and why not?

I’ve loved you for almost as long as I’ve known you
and can’t / won’t force myself to feel nothing.

But there’s NOTHING threatening to others
by this potential reconnecting of interlocking bodies,
because while sex will ALWAYS be emotional for me,
I also hold no illusions that
my having sex with you will bind you to me,
making you a prisoner
to only satisfy my needs,
to only service my pleasure…

Our FUCKING will not reintegrate us
into some magical reiteration
of our former couplehood.

The idea is preposterous.

As preposterous as truth
and as honest as fiction.

Written by Jason Wright
October 2, 2019

For Michael E.

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The Lonely Carnival

I listen to Cigarettes After Sex
and Men That I Trust
as I wander the streets of New York.

I smile –
sad smile
for closeted younger version of myself,
lonely and wandering a well remembered
if faded watercolor fairground
and the man that I saw there…

I never spoke to him,
though we recognized each other –
or, should I say that
we recognized the truth in ourselves?

And that recognition was dangerous,
reckless, unplanned and perfect.

I’ve written of him before
and I’ve thought of him
even more times than that…

We crossed paths on the cusp
of momentous change.

And on an overcast Friday afternoon,
I stumble for words to capture
his vivid, pained echo,
which has forever remained a part of me,
despite the seemingly inconsequential nature
of our subtle, surreptitious, serendipitous encounter.

Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2019

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/jərk/

This is a graphic story – so if you’re easily offended,
my advice is just to fuck off right now while there’s still time.

Seriously. This could offend you or just completely reduce your opinion of me.

Or it might just make you laugh.

Or possibly it could do all of those things at the same time.

Still here?

Funny story. I mean, I think it’s funny.
Others may disagree.

I once jerked off in the back of a station wagon,
imagining one of my school bullies
fucking me in dreamy soft focused lighting
straight out of a Radley Metzger porno,
though, of course that was years before
I even knew who Radley Metzger was.

But this guy’s name was CENSORED,
because, well, you’re about to find out.

And as my parents drove me
to our local Meijer,
I shot a load imagining CENSORED
as some kind of sympathetic soul
instead of the domineering asshat
that he portrayed in my waking world
at any given opportunity.

I don’t get off on being in cars
or with my parents or in public…
I was just very young, extremely horny,
and had a relative amount of privacy.

I would probably have no memory of this,
despite how outlandish it seems now,
except that when arriving at our destination(s)
I rounded a corner and walked directly into CENSORED’s chest –
because he was taller than me at the time,
so that’s where we connected.

Seriously.

I know why I blushed…
I mean, my hand likely still smelled of the cum
he’d wrangled out my teeny-bopper depths,
but he blushed just as badly before
we immediately headed in opposite directions
and never once mentioned it to each other ever again.

So that was a long time ago.

But recently, Facebook decided we should be best buds –
and I’m friends with a lot of people that were dicks to me in school.

I’m sure I was a dick to people too. School is like that.

And given the suggestion, and looking over his Facebook posts
I saw that we seemed to have developed the same views on a lot of issues,
(which I totally did not expect)…and so the friend request was sent
even though I did not expect anything to come from it.

But as history apparently likes to repeat itself….

A few months ago I was jerking off again.
Not to thoughts of CENSORED and
not to Radley Metzger,
because even though his films are hot,
I respect them too much to beat off to them.

Don’t judge me. I know it’s wacky, but that’s not the point.

The point is…

that just as I was reaching the point of no return,
a message flashed across my screen which read something like:

Friend Request to CENSORED Approved

And then I was most definitely thinking about CENSORED
as I doused myself, again, years later.

And I’m still laughing about it now,
and so I thought I’d share,
because clearly I have no boundaries.

At least I wasn’t in a station wagon this time,
which makes it slightly more classy, right?

I didn’t think so either.

Written by Jason Wright
August 3, 2019

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