“The Temple of Love is Falling Down”

On Thursday (August 13) I cuddled with Aaron in the morning but he needed to get up to go into work. Later JP, our Super, stopped by trying to figure out if our apartment was the cause of a leak in the apartment below us. This has happened many times over the years, these impromptu visits, because there has been a leak, off and on in the apartment below us, but they’ve never found anything. They’ve opened up their ceiling and had us run all of our water and there has never been any evidence that it’s coming from us. I wish they had found something so it could be fixed, but it’s been going on now for at least 8 years and although I know that it isn’t, it starts to feel like harassment. The Super is great and he’s frustrated because the neighbors yell at him. We are always kind and cooperative with everyone, even when they stop by at really inopportune moments and inappropriate times, like LATE at night, with no warning in advance. They come in, they see that everything is legit and they leave, frustrated, but thankful for our understanding. It’s starting to wear on me though. So that bothered me all day.

Thursday night, Aaron and I watched the new episode of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (S04E04 “A Case of Chiaroscuro”), which was a mixed bag. Really, all of Season 3 & Season 4 has been a mixed bag, and while I enjoyed the first 2 seasons, they had their problems also. Sadly, this is not the series that I expected or wanted, which in fairness, they don’t owe me, but it’s pretty disappointing. There are only 12 episodes left, but because they’ve focused on other things, there’s no time now to give me answers about these characters that I wanted from the beginning, and I find that I’m ready for the series to end, because it’s not that good. And I have some hope that once the series is wrapped up, that maybe I can accept it for what it is, rather than what it is not. Also, perhaps it will end well? That could help. The state of the series also lends weight to my ongoing theory that when watching The Kurtzman Era of Trek, that this phase of Trek is best served by watching Discovery last, which gives us a whole bonus season with Pike plus episodes with Spock, Una and the Enterprise that I actually love – feeling like a fantastic surprise, rather than a prologue to this show, which then squanders nearly everything possible. I wish I enjoyed it more, but I don’t. Aaron feels the same.

I went off my sleeping meds Thursday night as I was building a tolerance to them. This happens occasionally. It’s also probably just a healthy thing to do. I actually look forward to it, although it’s harder for me to sleep without them and I struggle with several issues as a result, I always have really intense dreams. These are often nightmares, but I still enjoy them for the vivid imagery and sensations. I don’t remember them now and I didn’t write them down, but I remember they were wild.

On Friday (August 14) I worked on my website. I’ve actually been working on it daily. There are now more than 400 poems on my website, but I have at least 1,000 more. I created a viewing order for American Horror Story. I’ve also uploaded more NSFW Photo Collages – I always try to mix in recent photos, and these included photos from this week. Also, a friend reviewed my site, relaying how much she loved the photos, which was nice to hear.

Later I went for a walk. I also played some Zelda, after not having played in at least a month. It’s strange playing intermittently when I’m used to playing non-stop. The last 6 years have been really weird. But I seem to be bouncing back and I hope that what’s happening now is my new normal. I feel like I’m in better shape than I have been in decades. If this is 52, then I’m not complaining!

I was tired but I stayed up to for the Marvel / Star Wars News from D23, which did not disappoint. I’ve been hyped for VisionQuest for years at this point and it really feels like the Wanda / Vision corner of The Multiverse Saga has been really rewarding. I still have hopes that the new series will lead to a family reunion between Vision, Tommy, Billy, Agatha and Wanda which will then feature in the films and see them all together, happy. That’s what I want. It’s always been what I want. But I’m not sure if any of this will happen in any way at any time.

The new look at Avengers: Doomsday was better than the first. It shows far fewer characters but feels like we’re getting far more story, and that has me more excited. I do feel that they are holding back on details and I like that. I believe there are also various characters in this film that have not been announced. The run time appears to be 2 hours and 45 minutes, based on the showtimes available in theaters. I’m really looking forward to this and I think it will retroactively help a lot of the multiverse films feel far more connected and important. We’ve seen that plenty of characters introduced in those films are coming back here, making them all seem more important, which is great. Going so long without any big crossovers like this, they’ve felt disconnected and that’s been frustrating for everyone, even me.

The live action adventures of Ahsoka Tano which began in The Mandalorian & The Book of Boba Fett continues in Season 2 of her title series. I had mixed reactions to Season 1, but one of my negative reactions was to the cliffhanger ending. This season will resolve that – and hopefully not end on another 1. It looks at least slightly better than Season 1 to me, but I won’t know until I see it. I’ve never rewatched Season 1. I’ve not rewatched much of this era of Star Wars actually, though I’d like to at some point. I’m not crazy excited about this, but I’m happy that it will be available down the line (in January).

I went to bed around 3am on Saturday, August 15. I didn’t look at my phone. I went right to sleep. Waking from drugless dreams of having to live with a one night stand (Joe Lee) who was oddly, a Nazi, and really frustrating. It was like a really dark comedy. I had something resembling a migraine when I woke but it faded quickly. I showed Aaron the new trailers and shared the news and things but then he attended a Stonewall meeting while had a smoothie and started updating my blog.

Today’s journal entry song quote is from “Temple of Love”, a song by the English rock band the Sisters of Mercy, written by the band’s lead singer Andrew Eldritch, which was the fifth (non album) single released by the Sisters of Mercy. Following the release of the band’s third album Vision Thing in 1990, there appeared to be no plans for a new record anytime soon, leading the band’s record label Merciful Release to reissue the band’s early non-album singles and B-sides, which had been out of print at this point, on the compilation Some Girls Wander by Mistake. This included the extended 12-inch version of the original “Temple of Love” recording. In conjunction with this release, the Sisters of Mercy also recorded a new version of “Temple of Love” featuring Israeli singer Ofra Haza, whom Eldritch was a longtime fan of. “Temple of Love (1992)” did not appear on Some Girls Wander by Mistake, but it did appear on the Sisters of Mercy’s greatest hits album A Slight Case of Overbombing, released a year later in 1993.

I’ve always preferred the original version, but it wasn’t the version that was playing when I wrote this, so I’m sharing the 1992 version.

The Mystery of Lust

He wandered into my life
on the arm of my lover,
set up shop for the night,
& “borrowed” my property.

Most of that night was a game
and honestly, a blur…
but the kiss in the kitchen was real
and brought everything into focus,
if not into the light.

This night’s passion wasn’t meant for me,
so the unexpected connection
was many conflicting things:
Excitement. Exhilaration. Shame. Damnation.
None of which I was prepared for.

He ate my ass like a pro.

His cock was delicious,
in my mouth and then deeper inside me.

He ravaged me while my lover looked on
and I loved it but I felt somewhat guilty,
which I may have loved even more…
or perhaps my guilt prevented me
from enjoying it completely?

It must seem strange
that I cannot honestly tell the difference.

But certain key details of lust are maddeningly lost on me.

There are certainly hints and subtle gestures;
implications and libidinous clues,
suggestions of an elusive contradictory nature…
pieces of a puzzle I wish only to solve
so that I might grasp the meaning
held within a finished and rapturious whole…
and yet I’m somehow trapped
within this self same labyrinth of intimations
which feeds the fire while slaking my thirst,
yet leaves me hungry just the same.

There was a danger there; a gamble…
I was risking something sacred
for the sake of something perverse,
if only symbolically.

He hit all the right spots,
but in a configuration hitherto unknown to me.

My deepest desires were completely inverted
during this encounter
and all the conversations that followed.

This isn’t my lover’s fantasy.
It’s not even mine.
It’s some mirror perverted version
and yet at the root of it all…
it is completely the same for me,
which confuses
even as it thrills.

In my mind
I am smaller than I appear,
and he ravages my lover
in depths that I cannot reach,
and I am finished far too soon,
before I’m undressed,
which has never happened
(and never will happen)
because that is not who I am.

“Yeah? You need my load again?”
“My cock hits places his doesn’t?”
“You craving it, boy?”
“You craving it?”

My fantasies are mine
and not my lover’s,
and though this man
says the words that I long to hear
he is saying them into the wrong ears,
because he cannot know
that what he has seen
and what he has interpreted as desire,
is actually reality’s cruel deception.

A trick of fate that pollutes my existence,
a caustic jocularity with an outlandish punchline
that I have endured and sought to diminish
through fantasy and honest communication;
and yet it remains a vicious mockery of all that I wish I could be –
a killing joke which has unknowingly to some,
made fools and victims of us all.

Written by Jason Wright
July 25, 2019

For A.J.

Mary Poppers

In disco dreams of the demimonde
Harry Potter’s ruthless offspring
offers me some of his poppers,
but I tell him
I enjoy my visions far too much
and anyways, I’ve never needed drugs
to enjoy being penetrated
by words, thoughts or horny
black medical technicians named Robert.

He tells me that I don’t know
what I’m missing
before he shrugs and hoovers
the proffered merchandise,
riding away on his boyfriend’s
upturned open relationship broomstick.

I push through a crowd of 70’s queens,
fruity fudge packers and ambidextrous wank masters
who’ve all chosen to inhale deeply but are undone
by their vigorous Viagra consumption…

They may all have fairy wings
but they’re dropping like flies.

Anxious about anxiety
and tempted by temptation
I ramble back to reality
by way of Central Park’s Tavern on the Green,
which ex-boyfriend swore had been positively decimated…

And just like that,
I realize that realization is as real
as all I now see…

And I find my mind has left behind the grind:
I’m fine as fine can be.

Written by Jason Wright
April 30, 2018

For Joe L & Michael E:
practically perfect in all of my dreams.

Game Night

When you walked in to Starbs
with my man on your arm
in your charmingly gay jeans,
I smiled
and I thought that this could be fun.

I ran into an old customer
who told me about his son’s tumbling class
as I watched you both ordering coffee,
with an easy,
relaxed manner,
that spoke volumes of what was to come.

Your sing song ramblings
were the essence of adorable
and you seemed younger
than your pictures,
while also managing to look completely different
from whatever angle
I spied you from.

We agreed on Buffy’s Gift
and disagreed on LGBT actors,
though not in the typical, angry, grating way,
which Aaron and I had just discussed
in relation to a similar friend,
who has already secretly been mentioned here.

We had matching board games
which we managed to win
before I took pain killer
when I expected no more games to be played.

This, aside from
the tongue fuck of a kiss
which was seemingly dared
and then shared without mercy.

Later, that other kiss on the kitchen counter,
and you were the ghost of Sean Mobley,
whispering across my skin
before we all retired to the place
I expected us not to go…
which in all fairness,
I had insisted on.

There were obstacles to overcome
but in a relaxingly hazy, lustful way,
or that’s how I experienced it at the time.

Your sexy ass,
which I yearned to devour,
was sadly out of service…
and my painkiller infused erection
was quickly down for the count,
yet your beautifully thick dick
and mouthwatering sack
were open for business.

I did fucking love your sex drenched cock,
stretching me open
after riding your face
like you were some kind of bucking bronco.

You were energetic,
switching positions,
still looking different from every angle,
painfully / pleasurably
thrusting deep inside me,
filling the rubber with an impressive load of cum.

You left soon after,
since you don’t like to cuddle,
and the two of you needed to be up early
the next morning.

You took Ian McKellen (as James Whale) with you
and we traded messages on this or that service
but I don’t hear your voice in those words.

In these random exchanges
it’s hard to tell what is real;
hard to tell if we’re going to see you again.

Perhaps you really were just a shadow of Sean,
come to sing me carols and wake me with a kiss.

But I’d like to talk to you again: face to face.

It’s not all about your dick;
it’s everything else too;
all those angles are views I’d like to explore.

My sentences sent to convey this seem awkward
and desperate, but that’s not how they’re meant.

Like I said, it’s hard to tell what is real
in the light of day;
hard to decipher if what we experienced
was the beginning of friendship
or merely the end of a short, yet satisfying game.

Written by Jason Wright
February 13, 2018

For Joe

Multifaceted

We fought kamikaze
yet thoughts were systemic.

You joined us for coffee
and brought a pandemic.

We strayed and collapsed
as we choked about freedom.

We played and we laughed
and we spoke about geekdom.

You talked very quickly
as if we were racing.

Half-cocked and pretty;
massive and bracing.

You stood there indifferent
as your past untangled

and looked very different
whatever the angle.

A hundred perversions
as opening move.

I wondered which version
would prove to be true?

Peculiar blue collar
on rough side of mirth?

A junior to Potter
on scruff of the Earth?

Your favorite Doctor?

That doesn’t seem odd.

But were you a monster
or were you a god?

Were you a waiter
with musical talk?

A sly masturbator
with beautiful cock?

Pardon, the writer
is famously slow.

Hard to decipher
the faces of Joe.

Written by Jason Wright
January 30, 2018

For Joe

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