Category: Poems

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Forced Open Relationship

You beg on the phone
to have what you need…

Like a junkie on smack
talking calmly of speed…

But I’m hooked on it too;
on the sex of your greed…

You feed the fire
as you swallow his seed.

I’ve dreamt of this moment;
been prepping for ages…

Been setting the traps
and been traveling through stages…

We were a team
but in two different places…

That the having has happened
without me enrages
my dick and my anger;
my hurt and my fear,

I’m impotent / horny;
unsated by tears,

I’m so many things
on many frontiers,

And this can’t be the end
after so many years.

Written by Jason Wright
June 28, 2017

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Versification

The magic of words
and the thoughts they reveal,

Define and pronounce
and allow me to heal,

I write and confess
and infuse every word,

With every emotion
I felt when I heard
his voice on the phone
in June Seventeen,

The day it all changed
into something obscene,

My words become poetry,
sonnets and myth,

Healing the wounds of
June Twenty-Fifth,

I shower him off
and wake from nightmares,

I know he is happy
and I know that he cares,

And I know he is hurt
and he hurt me as well,

But that’s not all he did
with his shocking bombshell,

I’m stronger than this
though it’s so complicated,

There’s much to inspire
and be celebrated,

Yes, there is pain and shock
and disaster,

Our lives interlace
in intricate patterns,

And I can feel joy
when I see that he’s joyous,

Not everything painful
is sure to destroy us,

For balance is key
in our combination,

The greatest of gifts
is com·mu·ni·ca·tion.

Written by Jason Wright
June 28, 2017

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Five Years

Stepped into my life
with me at my deadliest,

You without precedent
revived with your charm…

Stepped away from the knife
with my heart at it’s heaviest,

Music was prescient,
five years before harm.

You took me away
to a magical island,

You made me smile and –
you gave me a dream,

A fantasy marriage
of invisible diamonds…

A wedding cake frosted
with vanishing cream.

I loved you freely
in sickness and health,

Was I really just one
in that castle of sand?

Because you said you loved
but could not love yourself,

It’s over,
It’s done,
Can one understand?

But the truth is perception;
my view of you’s changing…

Time can fly quickly
or bleed by so slow…

Our love could prove true
with these vows we’re exchanging…

Still hurting…
but no one but you
needs to know.

The pain comes in waves
as my sand castle crumbles…

Love keeps ablaze
when the tide is too strong…

For relationships last
even when we have stumbles…

And my love for you
could not ever be wrong.

So a toast to the man
who’s love made me better…

I hope you can learn
to find love for yourself…

The value you seek
is there beyond measure…

Beauty is currency:
here’s to your wealth!

And of what I would give you
five years is a vial,

If you would allow me
to walk by your side…

And even if we never
walk down that aisle..

I will always be yours
and will love you with pride.

Written by Jason Wright
June 28, 2017

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Losing My Mind

Every time you aren’t here
and a question is raised,

Each new innovation
has left me quite dazed,

But you are a man
who deserves to be praised,

So forgive
if you live
with a man who’s quite crazed.

The last couple nights
have been harder than most,

Filled with hard choices
that have killed me almost,

Of course it’s been hardest
because we’re not close,

You are the man
that I love the most.

The needs that you crave
are beyond existential,

I love you and want
what for you is essential,

Just keep me informed;
let’s keep it sequential…

And I’ll see you achieve
your greatest potential.

These changes are drastic;
for me they are vast,

They affect how I feel
and that can’t be bypassed,

It’s like losing my mind
when it happens so fast…

But then my love for you
struggles through
unsurpassed.

This drama of interludes
laced with profanity,

It may seem pathetic
or a fault of my vanity,

In falling for you
I have found my humanity,

And we all know that
falling in love is insanity.

Continue to tell me your
needs without fear,

You confound
and astound me
but let me be clear…

You arouse
which allows
and endows me with cheer,

And I lose my mind
every time you are near.

Written by Jason Wright
June 27, 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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Scruffy

My lover stands
in Budapest
while I’m training
beneath the ground.

He speaks to me in ecstasies;
all the rage without a sound.

Madonna sings
Ilyssa speaks
Once again the girl is drowned.

Enough of talk
It’s time to walk
What was lost may yet be found.

Written by Jason Wright
June 21, 2017

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The All Seeing I

I attempt to document
the immorality of Xanax
but the only evidence is a kooky fortune teller
who reads my chai tea leaves
and tells me I’m wasting my time.

I agree.

I think of him in California
on some app
naked and hunting
for affirmation of his desirability –
giving his attractiveness a score
equal to the number of dick pics he receives.

Will he thank them with blowjobs?

I don’t think he would cheat
but of course I never expect him to lie.

And why carry naked pictures
on a mobile device
if you don’t intend to share them?

I’ve seen things that I shouldn’t…
or should I have?

My inner I
is cloudy / wounded / bloody.

The red tears fall
and lubricate my way to the future.

Written by Jason Wright
May 25, 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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Our Assholes Are Not Different*

My asshole is liberal
and apparently terrifying.

In Chechnya, gay men like me are tortured
while I’m riding a bicycle for the first time in nine years.

I’m racing downtown
along the Hudson River….
just like Michigan childhood,
yet decidedly different,
feeling simultaneously young and very old;
muscles aching, blood pumping.

I have to eat soon and all of this must end.

Coffee in Lincoln Square? Lincoln Center? Lincoln somewhere.
Mingling with opera singers; this is my life now.
This, while those in Mother Russia
who survived the purge of A.I.D.S. have been incarcerated
by an astonishing ignorance,
in a war they can not hope to win.

We are not wayward heterosexuals.
We are born; not converted.
And it is those that hate and fear us so much
who are responsible for our creation.

The only FAGGOTS I’ve ever met were
conservative terrifying assholes.

Conservative or Liberal…
at least our assholes seem to match.

*with all due respect to Arthur Rimbaud.

Written by Jason Wright
April 11, 2017

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