I’m still thrilled to be back in this space. Goth boy. But trying to decide all the things, coming up with solutions, mostly on my own, is exhausting. I’m traversing all these new obstacles that didn’t exist the first time I had a website, or if they did, I was blissfully ignorant. I had no idea that anyone would actually pay attention to my little piece of the internet or that anyone would care what I had to say or how much skin I showed, but they did. And I’m trying to get back to that freedom while also being responsible and considerate and mindful; respecting boundaries that I honestly never considered nearly 30 years ago when this journey began the first time. The growth I’m describing pleases me. But it’s far less easy than it was before. But I can do this.
I uploaded more collages to my gallery, more poetry and artwork. I added plugins to include music in my posts. I looked into some kind of age restriction for my site, though a lot of that information seems contradictory and I’m also not sure if I should age gate the whole thing or just my photographs? I mean, my writing is really fucking graphic…and I’m so fucking tired right now. I slept a little under 6 hours last night, but I’m used to more. My body wants me to sleep and I hopefully will soon, but I wanted to write this and take a shower to get the sunblock off of me.
Age restriction(s). Visitor counter(s). Perhaps a plugin to include Google Sheets / Google Docs? I also need to create pages for my non-poetry related writing and my viewing / reading orders, movie reviews, etc. But I probably won’t get to most of that until I have more of my poetry ported over, at least my writing from 2011 onward. And I’ll ask Mark about the website stuff that I don’t quite get. That’s a lot but it seems like something worth doing and something I can accomplish.
I was planning on watching the new episode of Daredevil: Born Again (S02E04 “Gloves Off”) tonight, but I’m just too tired. I’ll try to watch it tomorrow. Season 3 of Euphoria begins this Sunday. I was caught up by the time Season 2 ended but that was over 4 years ago, so I don’t remember it very clearly. Eric Dane’s Cal Jacobs will be featured, which will be odd since Dane passed away recently – and other cast members have died since the end of Season 2.
Oh! And the pain that Aaron was having that led us to the clinic yesterday is possibly to do with stress and was helped in part by a visit to his chiropractor. Aaron found another office that seems promising in our neighborhood and will given them a try on Friday or Saturday but his usual chiropractor is at 50th Street (Manhattan); this would be much closer. Hopefully he continues to improve. He and I have been together for about 14.5 years! Crazy.
Okay. I need to keep this short. I need to sleep. And I need that shower.
“Things Like That Drive Me Out of My Mind”
I got Aaron to watch the 1997 film “The House of Yes” a long time ago. It’s a favorite of mine, based on the 1990 play “The House of Yes: A Suburban Jacobean Play”, by Wendy MacLeod.
Yesterday, knowing my love of the film, he took me to the Mannes School of Music to see a workshop of a new opera adaptation of the same work, which was a fascinating experience. The performers were students; they were all great. And I got to meet many of the creatives in passing. I also spoke briefly to the 2020 Pulitzer Prize winning Michael R. Jackson, who wrote the book, music, and lyrics for “A Strange Loop”, which I had loved when we saw it on Broadway – but I didn’t realize who he was until after we left. No. I talked to him about John Carpenter and the film “They Live”, which was on a shirt that he was wearing. lol
Years ago, also in part based on my love of “The House of Yes” but also my fanboy crush on Ewan, Aaron also took me to see “The Real Thing”, a play that then starred Ewan McGregor, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Cynthia Nixon and Josh Hamilton. I met them all briefly after the show and they were delightful; we got all their signatures on our poster – and I told Hamilton that I was a huge fan of “The House of Yes”, in which he played Marty – and thanked Ewan for “Velvet Goldmine”. <3
surficial
Knives on the slate
and discussion of death.
My lives of late
are now months bereft.
The veiled lure of cash –
(recitation complex)
A failure to crash –
(cessation of sex)
And all of it: meaningless –
(meaning too much?)
Is there any redeeming us
there where we touch?
Written by Jason Wright
February 6, 2020
The Decision
All of your life
I was waiting
beneath the surface
where we could not see one another
through that reflective prismatic
membrane…
down beneath waves
in an ocean of time.
Our meeting
was not the frothy crash
one might expect between
two long separate bodies;
more a subtle swallowing
of pride,
an exceptional chance encounter between worlds,
between men,
emptied and refilled and accepted –
we drank each other down.
you are my sustenance
you have long nourished my soul
in a calming deluge of possibility,
a commingling of creation and interpretation –
your intoxicating mixture of unspeakable talent
with benevolent decency,
such rare treasure
is my honor and privilege to behold
and to bathe in,
to witness all that lies beneath
all that others seldom see.
How could anyone observe such strength
and such frailty,
such passion –
Who could spy such longing
and not find themselves quickened?
Such stimulation
can rob mortal men of decisional capacity.
I had no choice but to love you, you see…
And yet I find that
I decided all the same.
I chose to embrace the experience of you,
to appreciate it for what it was
and what you were,
I opted to be vulnerable and to be strong,
and then finally I agreed to follow
that untrodden path wherever it might lead.
You are the decision that has changed my life forever.
You are the choice that I made
that I have never regretted.
Written by Jason Wright
February 13, 2019
For Aaron
Wrong Head Denied
You were lost in the dark
and I sounded absurd.
Exhausted remarks
left you feeling unheard.
I swear that I heard you
and I feel regret.
I’m aware I deferred you
and caused our upset.
My only defense
is a timeless cliché.
My lonely pretense
is a rhymeless betrayal
of love and of care but
was truly attraction:
Thought overwhelmed
by the prime crime of passion.
Written by Jason Wright
November 29, 2018
For Aaron
See You Next Tuesday
My ex-husband’s wife is a cunt.
She messages me
about appropriating my memories
in a collage in which she dreams
I never existed.
She finds it so fantastic
that she attended a bar in the ‘90’s
where her husband was dancing
in a cavernous Detroit Ramada Inn.
Do I have any pictures without him holding me,
she asks?
No. I don’t.
I took him there
on our first date
in December 1995.
But I do have some pictures
that she can’t erase me from…
That night he climbed into my bed
and begged me to mesh
nakedly together
as I snapped photos
and told him I would not be his excuse
to sabotage his relationship
with this woman.
Aaron says this is because I have standards.
I doubt she would see it that way.
But I will not surrender my memories
and she…
will never know.
Written by Jason Wright
January 10, 2018
Another poem originating from April 2017 scribblings on a train.
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
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
FOUND
A year ago now
you were lost in the dark
and being alone there
it changed us
I fought hard for you
you fought for me too
we fought for the truth
that estranged us
we struggled with doubt
I smuggled us out
but there in the light
we were strangers
for finding the light
did not make us right
the truth set us free
but with dangers
and it was discovered
the damage we suffered
still plagued us in spite
of our patience
our ignorance threatened
our romance was deafened
we’d nearly been drowned
by complacence
found to be guilty
my love nearly killed me
life is a bitch
an assassin
but time worked it’s magic
became more romantic
we survived by the grace
of compassion
and there on that ledge
we stood on the edge
of a death
that still makes me shudder
and finding us there
beyond our despair
we rescued ourselves
and each other
and now we still struggle
both in dark and in light
but the struggle is real
and you make it alright
for life without fight
is a life without meaning
and a life without plight
to our love is demeaning
this year having passed
profoundly, it’s true
I hope that we last
and I’m glad I found you.
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
For Aaron
Weekend Friends
Various sentences
rise through the mist,
Queries for Romeos
found in our midst,
Did they know when they met me
I didn’t exist?
Perhaps they have doubted
yet doubts were dismissed?
To be fair
my partner in crime
is pretend,
Oh he’s quite real to me
and of that I contend,
But they don’t see the truth
in the lies that we send,
Try not to smile…
Must not reveal guile…
We are only unreal
to our weak weekend friends.
Written by Jason Wright
July 26, 2017