Category: Jason’s Favorite Poems

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Prayer of the Post Traumatic

Hearing disappointment which matches
THE SICKNESS INSIDE ME
threatening to overtake me.

Breathe.

The train is already departing one six eight;
perhaps this panic is for nothing?

Why do the only loud people
in the car gravitate toward me?

Hungry. Terrified and hungry.
Some things never change…
but I can.

Relax. Breathe.

He cannot hurt me here.
She is safe.
And I will eat before long.

If the show has begun
I will eat without fear
and rest,
knowing I’ve seen this particular show
three times before,
and I will be there for Aaron
without compromising
sanity or the denial of self.

If I make it there in time I will be
collected and calm. I will take in
this special show with
no need of regret
for I have controlled my fear
and done my best to travel
especially on the
fucked up weekend transit.

Now relax. Breathe / Ground,
and be the Jason that you want to be.

Written by Jason Wright
October 29, 2017

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Destruction of Same

I came here a stranger
embraced without a question,

You welcomed me here
and ensured my affection,

He’s broken and lost
and screaming inside me,

His pain is too much
and begins to divide me,

He learned not to eat
so that he could survive,

He’s making me sick
so that I’ll stay alive,

But he is confused
because he was deceived,

Our father told lies
that his children believed,

Little Boy Blue
always here to remind me…

And little boy fighting
is killing me kindly.

Written by Jason Wright
September 2, 2017

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Sirens

Tonight
after haunted days of painful painlessness
a siege of sirens comes
to serenade, seduce and succor…
to simplify…
to supply me with solace
as I drown
beneath waves of mutilation
(with apologies to Pixies).

My Aaron sings to me
his soothing tones
which are less like music;
more like verse…
strumming my ribcage
beneath salt water seas,
we swim naked for hours
through tears we’ve not shed.

The other Aaron,
the Aaron between us,
he haunts through
photograph, text and memory,
echoing across time and geography
to be one with us again.

There are naked hungry men
beneath those shadowed depths,
those sombre shades of green
lit by melancholy movie soundtracks.

The mermen dive for pleasure
and breathe truthfully through gilled
fantasy lies which excite and entice me
before dragging me down to my death.

In amber and glow,
through fogged glass of sunken ships
she is weeping her mermaid crocodile tears.

This is not truly Jamie;
this being is not my sister or my therapist.
The former doesn’t speak to me, even on land
and the latter will soon be lost to me –
just as I left her (unforgivably)
in the haste of my waking nightmare.

She will forgive me this unforgivable sin.

She is strong but she is wounded –
like me,
underwater –
like me,
and she will rise again –
like me.

Could this truly be her after all?

I smile and wave goodbye to her
but she can’t see me until Thursday.

Mermaid simulacrum smiles just the same…
but here my visions come to an end.

Written by Jason Wright
August 17, 2017

For Aaron Squared & Jamie Bloom

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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

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At a Glance

Your choice
Your voice: confessing your pain
Your eyes
Your size
Your blessing
Your brain
Your body
Your mind
All more than sufficient.

Tonight
was insightful
and not insignificant.

Written by Jason Wright
July 9, 2017

For Aaron

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Lessons

Last night
profound;
spellbound by the depth…

And we held you close
long after you left.

We speak of you still;
we are moved;
we are haunted.

Arrived
deep inside
and you left yourself wanted.

Survived
and enlivened
and we each felt that kiss.

We each had our moments
of momentous bliss.

We each have a ghost
of that pleasure beneath us.

We treasure each trust;
what each thrust tried to teach us.

Written by Jason Wright
July 9, 2017

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Fashion Victim

A cry on the catwalk
of love and of blame.

A runway sashayed
with lies and with shame.

The scream for attention;
an advert ignored.

A cream filled with tastes
that I could not afford.

The signs for the sale
were shocking and sultry.

I did not expect them
to lead to adultery.

Fidelity fad? Old hat!
I’m pathetic.

The new look this season
has a harlot aesthetic.

Yet the outdated fashion
of black and of leather.

Was on the new model;
though I think it was pleather.

Written by Jason Wright
July 2, 2017

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Peter Pan Syndrome

I know you’ve been bad
and I know you’re unhappy.

I know that I love you
and I want you badly.

I’m asking the question
I must ask you sadly:

Not sure who you are…
but are you my Daddy?

You look like him, sure,
and the smile’s the same.

But his smiles were toys
and our love was the game.

His insides were broken;
said I’m not to blame…

But I’m frightened that Daddy
will leave out of shame.

Now bathe me in piss
and spank me with lust,

You feed me betrayal
that hardens my thrust,

I am roused by your lies
and I know it’s fucked up…

Daddy
is the only man
that I trust.

But if that’s who you are
and you still want to play,

With sticks and with balls
(and I don’t mean croquet)

I’m frightened that Daddy
will lie when he strays…

And frightened that we can’t survive
in this phase.

How many licks must I take
to be dutiful?

How many pricks must you slake?
It’s inscrutable.

Answer.
Be strict; not inexcusable.

How many dicks will it take
to be beautiful?

I know you don’t know

and I know you’re deserving
of much more respect

but the pain keeps reverting…

Forgive me,
this mess
can be disconcerting.

This is how children behave
when they’re hurting.

Written by Jason Wright
June 26, 2017

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The Beautiful One

He was always so talented;
always so driven,

Always so drawn
to the darkness forbidden,

For he was the light of love;
he was a vision,

And yet he was blind
but kept that part hidden.

His friends never knew
and of those there were legion,

For he’d traveled the world;
he’d taught great collegians,

And all of them blinded
by his dazzling beacon,

The blind leading blind
teaching bliss behind treason.

He could not believe
and though he was a cutie,

Because he was blind
he could not believe beauty,

And so he befriended
and seemed to have plenty,

But behind his disguise
he believed he was empty.

I know this is true
for I’ve tasted his honey,

I’ve loved him so gently
and I’ve loved him roughly,

I love him so much that his pain
leaves me bloody,

But I fear to be beautiful
he’s made himself ugly.

Written by Jason Wright
June 26, 2017

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In the Window to the Soul

He turns
looks into my hunger
and kisses deep into my longing.

“Aaron… You don’t have to…”

He abolishes my protestations
with the writhe of his lithe quenching desire.

The morning after and I am
UGLY / WOUNDED / ASHAMED
until he convinces me otherwise
with every touch, thrust, confession and truth (?).

Music sings me to joy
as I race beneath an ocean of asphalt
before my forgotten phoenix returns
to haunt, burn, perish and resurrect.

The “truth” is that all poets are fucked;
metaphorically or otherwise.

Written by Jason Wright
May 9, 2017

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