Jason’s Favorite Poems – Page 8 – BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG

August 14, 2011April 6, 2026

Art is a Mirror

Wasting away…
Ten years lost to illness.

The moments
between us
are filled with such stillness…

Cherished,
Exchanged,
Sharing our stories…

With chapters
in common
and frank allegories…

He gives it to me
and I’m touched
without touching…

He whispers to me
and I’m flushed
without blushing…

He leaves me
with passion
transcended to form…

The canvas
is thunder;
his heart is the storm.

The sea of emotion
by these colors rendered;

the work of a man
who never surrendered,

The man in the painting
who’s insides are bruised…

Is haunted by faces
that used and abused.

Some of the faces
are drugs that he’s taken…

Others are ghosts
that still leave him shaken…

Some are illusions,
Others invented,
Some are the sins that he’s never repented.

Others are faces
of boys he’s not dated…

He thought that he had
but they really translated
into nights meaning nothing
except what he’s losing…

For riches imagined
and instrument moving…

The face is the horror
of waiting untasted…

The face is my mirror…

The face of time wasted.

Written By Jason Wright
August 14, 2011

For: Johnny Vaughn, who’s artwork inspired it.

Johnny V passed away a little over 6 years after I wrote this. He was a caring friend when I deeply needed one. He and I had shared history but his adventures had been with people who were only ever on my periphery and I cherished each and every story that he gifted me with. He was also a brilliant painter and gave me the work that inspired this poem, though I also put in as many references to his tales that only he might recognize. I’m gratified that he read this and had such a positive reaction.

Rest in Peace brother.

June 16, 2006April 6, 2026

A Light Among Monsters

“This Little Light Of Mine”,
that’s what they sang,
as they tried to steal yours away…

They bruised you and broke you
and tried to provoke you
in multiple Christian like ways…

A monster, they named you,
They wanted to blame you;
your truth had shattered their lies…

And they claimed to love you;
looked down from above you;
with “love” they said their goodbyes.

But the truth that was spoken
that left your hearts broken:
It wasn’t your fault; you were right…

And now we all see
what they cannot believe:
They were the monsters while you were the light.

Written By Jason Wright
June 16, 2006

For Jeremiah Kenneth Merklinger:
A Light Among Monsters.

December 31, 2001May 8, 2026

IAN IS DEAD

Dorian told me
this only a couple hours
ago…

Said that Ian had worked
at Pizza House up until the end.

Didn’t know he was even
back in Ann Arbor…

Briefly knew that Dear Friend.

And as it turns out,
he didn’t survive me…
though he once revived me;
he is cold in the ground.

Only yesterday I thought
I’d write…
only not…
& now to then learn
he’s not even around.

Autumn once told me
she’d written him off…
not worth the cost…
far beyond saving.

He couldn’t stop it…
He couldn’t drop it…
farewells & goodbyes;
all he ever was saying.

Can’t stand the silence.
Can’t stand the staring.
Cure sang he’s NUMB –
No cure for his fun –
Did not really know him
though I never stopped caring.

Written By Jason Wright
December 31, 2001

For Ian

Explained:

Ian was a friend of friends. He was goth, and he had wild black hair that reminded me of Robert Smith of The Cure. He and Autumn visited me at Meijer when I worked there (between 1996 & 1999) and they picked me up to take me to a gallery where Autumn was having an exhibit while the museum was closed. He spoke with me about The Cure’s then new album, “Wild Mood Swings” (released: May 7, 1996) and later, after chilling at the Fleetwood he gave me a kiss goodnight at my car, despite me having a boyfriend in Florida. It was invigorating. My friend Paul had told me all about a guy he was hung up on named Ian but I didn’t make the connection. When I realized our Ians were one and the same, well, I stayed away. But I always liked him.

Ian was an addict. Heroin. Or so I was told. I’m sure it was true as all his old friends seemed to hate him based on his addiction and whatever shit he spewed on them as a result. He moved away. When I wrote my first poem about him I meant to send it to him but the people I asked had all come to despise him and weren’t interested in helping me find him. Later he returned to Michigan, and was actually working in a restaurant that I frequented (which itself was rare), but I never saw him there. He worked with people I knew, but they didn’t know that I knew him. And one night, my friend Carrie got in a fight with him and he left early, and he overdosed. And he died. And he was buried. And I found out maybe a week after all that from Dorian, who was a guy that I made out with once, who was a drug dealer, I think, and he and I would randomly cross paths now and again around Ypsi / Ann Arbor. When I asked my friend Carrie about it and explained that I had cared about him, she didn’t apologize or show any remorse or even the slightest bit of sympathy for me, and this hurt our friendship.

But to have written about him originally as someone who reminded me of people that I’d met in a hospital that I mostly outlived and that I found it comforting that he would survive, and then have him die, was very jarring. And it’s even more so now looking back at all this in 2026, over 25 years later.

And it is impossible for me to think of Ian and not think of “Numb” by The Cure from “Wild Mood Swings” – or hear the song and not remember Ian.

Jason: 05-08-26

May 6, 2000May 8, 2026

OUT IN THE OPEN

·We danced Friday night
to that Friday night music –

The passion was there
but I chose to refuse it –

The sobering sight
of the children & their pride –

The heat & the night
drew us all out from inside.

The girl by my side
& the others who knew me –

They all made me smile
& they all saw right through me –

They all knew my weakness
for people & laughter –

They all knew I wanted
the boy who came after:

The boy dressed in orange.
The candy: raspberry.
His friends were delicious.
His laughter was cherry.
Our goodbye was a smile.
The night was colossal.

I always find joy
when I’m profoundly hostile.

Written by Jason Wright
May 6, 2000

For Melissa, Lee C, M.V., Maggie, Laurie, & Dawn,
but mostly for Shawn – who’s reply made me smile.

Edit:

The artwork was meant to replicate the traffic that night in Ann Arbor. The above version is an expanded view of the original, which I’ll share here:

Melissa was a girl that my then roommate and ex-bf Mark Adams was trying to date. I drove us to the bar after getting food and stopping at a bank.

Lee C & M.V. were men I knew from online on GAY DOT COM (remember when that was a thing?), and though our paths crossed a couple of times, I never knew their full names, so I don’t know what ever became of them.

I met Shawn Foreman that night, along with Maggie Ernst, Laurie Prater and their friend Dawn. I dated Shawn and I was in love with him for years. That night he had noticed the scars on my wrists which endeared him to me right away, but I was pretty bitchy, even as I was trying flirt with him and he called me (with some affection) “profoundly hostile”. When he read this poem he reevaluated his opinion of me. We dated briefly, but intensely. We later hooked up a couple of more times over the years. And I last saw him in person in October of 2011, just 21 days before I met my partner, Aaron Sanko. But he and I still trade messages now and again.

Maggie became a close friend but I later learned she was a compulsive liar, to me and about me. I dropped her on the spot, which was quite painful. I think Dawn visited me once with Maggie but I vaguely remember her and I hashing it out over gay rights and religious bullshit, which I believe ended with me calling her “a pathetic Jesus Licker”, which seemed to offend her at least as much as I’d hoped that it would and she never spoke to me again – which I considered mission accomplished – good riddance. Laurie is simply one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met and we still trade messages occasionally – I last saw her in person at a Michigan theater in July of 2021.

Jason (05-08-26)

February 3, 2000April 6, 2026

A Thorn For Coronation

In the cold summer heat
where the chill is inside…

The boy in the garden
has secrets to hide…

Walking with walkman
and singing a dirge…

A screaming erection
while fighting the urge…

To talk to his idol;
soft spoken and gentle…

The man is a monster
yet so sentimental…

The man is tormented
and torments this boy…

With feelings that threaten
to create or destroy…
The boy in the garden.

The man that was chosen…
By fate or by chance?
He never will know…

But the boy has been captured.
The boy is enraptured.

The boy is in love
with a man made of snow.

Written by Jason Wright
February 3, 2000

Inspired by Jason Alery,

who I obsessed over endlessly in school,
while listening to “Winter Marches On” by Duran Duran.

October 1, 1999April 25, 2026

Gaydar

That moment our eyes meet
as we pass on that dark street…

The magic that flows from your essence:
Immense.

That instant attraction
that calls us to action…

That look in our eyes is both lost and
Intense.

That touch of your hand
makes us both understand…

We know we are more than just casual
brothers.

My voiceless reply
speaks volumes and I
know that look in your eyes…
We are almost like lovers.

But the moment: it passes
and we’re lost to the masses;
The Moment is gone…
We will wait for another.

For we were both stricken:
Cheeks blushed and cocks thickened…

For that moment in time we were lost in
each other.

Written by Jason Wright
October 1, 1999

September 17, 1999May 8, 2026

KISSING THE GODDESS

A dream
I had this evening…

A dream
of dyed red hair…

A Goddess
over the city you were…

I looked up
and saw you there.

You were smile
and tassel dangling…

You were madness
and mind mangling…

You were sad
to watch gun fire…

As you shined
for my new lover…

And you blew
a kiss from heaven…

And I knew
I was forgiven…

For Poetry
was my promise…

But you
the ever doubting Thomas…

Had seen poetry
and magic…

You’d seen drama
laughter tragic…

All of that
and more…

Within the man
you knew before.

For though I’m mortal
failure flaw…

Poetic justice
in me saw…

You saw my passion
and my bliss…

When you looked down…
Beneath your crown…
Two men knelt down…
And shared a kiss.

And that kiss
released me from my debt…

You laughed in triumph
without regret…

Your tears were
joyous falling rain…

My lover
touched my face again…

And the Goddess watched
and remembered the past…

And knew we were both
where we wanted at last.

Written By Jason Wright
September 17, 1999

For Carrie Ann Knauss

For your 20th birthday and more!

You’ve been Goddess and lover…
You are a friend and a sister…
You are all things to me…
All things and more.

I’ll love you always.

April 28, 1999May 16, 2026

RECIDIVOUS

I met him that night when it couldn’t have mattered…
We had gone too far when it did –
(to be sure)…

For before we had ever spoken or thought,
we were lost to that darkness –
with never a cure.

His eyes bright with drunken
boyish wonder,

This frock coated gentleman
bathed in black light,
and filled with a sadness
that tore me asunder:

We shattered together
and splinted the night.

In the encounters that followed
we rescued each other
but we knew we would never be saved…

For there are no survivors
from the plague of desires;
not when both men are ripe to be craved.

Our dire bravery in ruinous pleasure;
this sickness that found us as brothers…
was doomed from the moment our eyes met each others’:
no cure for these lost hungry lovers.

Written by Jason Wright
April 28, 1999

For Dorian:

Who is far too delicious and urban an angel
to not inspire my mind or my dick.

April 11, 1997May 8, 2026

Dear Friend:

The night that I met you –
you seemed so familiar…

An innocent…so vulgar,
like The Children I’ve Known.

I felt so nostalgic –
with weeping confessions,
your bloodletting questions
made me feel less alone.

The Children are gone now –
although I still breathe,

I know I can’t leave,
though my memories cry.

I think I now know how –
reflection might save me,
allow me to break free,
as long as I don’t die.

I dream of escape from –
the nightmares that haunt me,
that grim reaper taunts me,
this war without end.

On a night when the darkness –
will fall and embrace me,
and time will erase me,
I won’t have lived longer
than at least this

Dear Friend.

Written by Jason Wright
April 11, 1997

For Ian