Tag: 2017

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Fragments of Ryan: Savannah Interrupted

He’s uniquely shaped
like a patchwork of flesh…

Like Frankenstein’s monster
and love coalesced…

With a talent so bare
and a mood so enlightening,

A mixture so rare
that his beauty is frightening.

An eyes glazed insurgent
who’s wanted and lost…

With lazy gaze urgent;
still haunted by cost…

Who writes and performs
on a stage made of pain…

The ache in his eyes
borders on the insane.

And his music jingled
by others was lovely…

Though form never mingled;
if so it was roughly…

In show strung together;
so blissfully jumbled…

The best of intentions
by those that he’s humbled…

His powerful art
in a story so sparse…

Less than the sum
of it’s excellent parts.

Written by Jason Wright
October 25, 2017

For Ryan

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SSSSSHHHHHhhhhh…..

These rambling skeletal nothings
prepare a Shakespeare on the Rocks
that will put you to sleep
faster than arsenic, absinthe, abstinence or Nyquil.

These holes where people once stood
are empty by choice:
“It makes for a better tango partner.” she twitters
as she looks at your palm,
smashes a fortune cookie
and calls it psychoanalysis.

These prickly amusements
are friendly Goddess daughters
when we smile and laugh and congratulate,
but let your drowsy mind betray the truth
and see them bare their fangs
to rip your throated poetry to shreds.

Unless of course you’re doing something
which requires respect or silence…
because then they’ll be making
far too much noise to have noticed.

Written by Jason Wright
October 24, 2017

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Romeo Troye: The Company of Trains

You feel younger
walking hand in hand
with new Christmas decorations
and ice cream fizzle;
turn the music up
but can’t block him out:
I might as well be at home…
this isn’t bad.

Keep it going.
(((((((SPIN)))))))
And out.

She is smiling
through raindrop curtain of music
like drug song.

“Drugs are quick.”

He is gay, young, not my type (w/ extra E),
but I support his artistry
singing in my ears on the train;
this Aaron reading Trek…

“Leave”
with sudden stop in crowded car.

“Driving me wild”
with sadness tremble of wanting
but not quite having.

Taste of man sitting next to me.
Fantasy haunts us.
He knows my thoughts (cuckold mind-meld):
a brave fool to play this game.

End this
to collapse into memory song
of stranger friend…

“No One Knows How It Will End.”

Movie quotes are an invasive comfort
and lonely with no one to recognize them.

Kiss him. Kiss him.

Let him recognize me.

Written by Jason Wright
October 23, 2017

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Nightmare Confections

Washed out yesterday
feels distant as dreams
this morning of desperate
deceptive rape confessions.

Did loving / fearing them
make all the difference?

If so, I should
swallow all of
their sorrowful shame
to wake so
inspired and spritely.

Written by Jason Wright
September 30, 2017

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The Party That Wasn’t

Four of us there;
though it’s hard to believe:
Bald Jason, Paul
and Darla and Steve.

The latter I stripped
in Ann Arbor fountain
before baring flesh
pressing into his bottom;
concealing our pact
(which they labeled obscene)
and that this healing act
had in fact made us clean.

The nerve that in public
made time seem to end:

Perving the lovesick
with crime through the lense
of twenty-one years
flashing by in a blur…

The party that wasn’t
for the people we were.

A moment of lust
that had built beyond reason,
Momentous trust
in the shadow of treason,
A moment of courage
acknowledged and shared,
Encouraged by touch
though we weren’t prepared
for the judgment of strangers
and friends left outside,
as we puzzled through riddles
with longing our guide,
But licentious struggles
are seldom rewarded,
For all our successes
we may have been thwarted…
For the world gazed in fear
as if love were contagious…
Our fumbled premiere
saw us stumble toward greatness.

Written by Jason Wright
September 20, 2017

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DEVASTATION

Kissing Josh. September 1998.

When I met him,
a prisoner’s attempt to break free.

My relationship.
His deniability.

He was so forward the night we met.

Terrifying.

Couldn’t see he was teetering on the brink
just to kiss me.

For Josh –
Who’s kiss I’ll never forget,
who’s random phone calls haunt me to this day
and who still has plenty of magic
(even if “The Magician” doesn’t recognize it as such).

I scrawled this in my notebook on the train sometime last week and just got around to transcribing it here. I hope it finds you well.

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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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L.J.

Camping together
like times that he’s had,

I can’t quite explain
why L.J. is sad,

Why gun to his head
is aiming at me,

Triggered by all things
that will never be.

I give him this time
to heal and reflect,

He feels so alone
yet our lives intersect,

I know he is haunted –
I know he’s a ghost,

I know that they hurt
what he wanted the most,

But he’s not alone
because I’m always near,

And though he is gone
I know he is here…

I know he is sad
and I’m paying attention,

I’m holding him close
in this time of reflection,

So don’t be afraid;
I am strong and can do this,

It wasn’t his fault
and I give him forgiveness.

Written by Jason Wright
September 2, 2017

For Little Jason and his father David.

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Target Alighted

She with the shiny black rose hair
smiles ancient rictus grin:
compliment received…
will I age like that? Like a papercut?

Blood drips to water stores
removed from dry bone rattle;
a fire of truth that burns us all away.

Kindness amidst violence
threatened with every raised voice
of children pretending they they
are even a quarter of her age.

Her smile tattoos my brain;
a giddy afterimage to ponder as
Aaron turns away to keep me close.

Written by Jason Wright
October 23, 2017

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New Testament

My eyes have been burning
I dream they are bleeding
allergic reaction
to book I am reading
I’ve read it before
but it’s still just as haunting:
an honest admission
of hardship and wanting
excerpts of life
which echo my own
reflected in eyes
of men that I’ve known
moment and whisper
the sound of my breathing
the fall of a zipper
where wanting is needing
the touch of a stranger
or the thrill of a glance
safety and danger
of an old circumstance
that creams little death
under weight of his stare
wet dreams made flesh
as our souls are laid bare
in each conversation
and every discourse
each revelation
is beyond intercourse
as we come together
in solace (like marriage)
his is a volume
I always will cherish.

Written by Jason Wright
August 23, 2017

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