Unanswered Horror

I can feel tomorrow’s intensity
like a sunburn
that kisses my skin
and stings my denim blue eyes.

Those inexperienced events
wash over me,
somehow more real
than anything happening right now.

Tomorrow, two long held desires
may reach fruition
and my reactions are impossible to calculate
yet just try telling my overstimulated
and compulsively analytical mind.

I’m held prisoner here in the present,
denied experience, answers or closure.

“Please let me go.”

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“I don’t care if it hurts!”

But nobody answers,
because some things need to be endured.

Perhaps the February furnace is cold
but I won’t learn how alone I truly am
until 36 hours have passed and leaves me to reconcile
in the aftermath.

Written by Jason Wright
November 28, 2017

Simon’s Truth

When man disappears
and returns as another…
Remember his name
as if he were your lover…
For names hold more meaning
than Juliet queried…
The essence is dense
despite Vampire Theory…
And he deserves better
than a name that’s not his…
Worth more than a score
for his compliment kiss…
And now that I’ve met him
I’ll always remember…
At least long enough
to survive this December.

Written by Jason Wright
November 21, 2017

For Jon

Everyone is Waiting

You weep deep inside
from a wound
long ignored.

You keep me supplied
from a swoon
unexplored.

Encumbered by stacks
entrusted
so varied…

These unnumbered racks
in this lust
reliquary.

This untangled skein
resumed
and unmasked.

I heal you with pain
exhumed
from my past.

I give you temptation
in blasphemy
shrine.

You find affirmation
in fantasy
mine.

You take what you need
but supply
me with treasure.

I’m waiting with greed
amplified
by our pleasure.

Gratified kiss
speaking oath
to be shameful.

Ratified bliss
wreaking growth
through betrayal.

Relate as we yearn
to unburden
our shelves.

We wait and we burn
for return
to ourselves.

Written by Jason Wright
November 21, 2017

This Diabolical Drama

I’m sitting right across from you
when you tell me how much you want to hurt me,
how much it will pleasure you to humiliate me,
how much you want to take what is mine,
use it for your own gain,
and leave me to wander
cluelessly,
ashamed and defeated.

I’m sitting right across from you
but what you don’t see
is that I’m not the man you thought I was,
and all your schemes were mine
before they were yours.

You think he’s sitting right across from you
but I’ve taken his place
and the words that were meant for him;
the words meant to conquer me
and raise you up have given me the greatest satisfaction
I can imagine.

I am afraid,
but it is the fear of an entertainer
about to take to the stage
where my most impressive performance
(which I’ve trained for my entire life)
is about to begin at last.

You are a liar and a manipulator.
You are hurtful and obscene.
But I am something you could not see coming.
And though you wish to hurt me
I thank you from behind my disguise
for you too have an integral role to play.

You, with the help of my co-conspirator,
will push me beyond those boundaries
I have never dared to traverse,
even though the core of who I am
has always ached to cross that line.

And in that gleaming treacherous climax
where all masks lead to the truth,
we will be transformed…

And you, in plotting my downfall,
will bring me to my utter salvation.

Written by Jason Wright
November 8, 2017

Aggressive Regression

A childhood nursery fantasy
has become an obsession of late.

Everyday I become someone else that I love
so that I can have some hope of witnessing
what was once deemed impossible.

Love & trust make this elixir attainable
but I’m driven completely by sex: a walking hardon.

Always a sexual creature…

Always willing and able
to gladly explore any kink
that struck my fancy…

Those demons were expunged upon arrival.

All but this impossibly complicated
riddle of a contradiction.

This place is beyond anywhere
I’ve ever willingly been.

This unexplored erotic nightmare of flesh is:
urgent, vital, joyous at finally receiving my attention.

This dream cocaine has made me into a liar,
an enthusiastic victim,
a nearly celibate slut
who yearns for desolation…
a chance at reconnection with
that hardly humiliated farm boy in
those locker room communal showers.

As a child I held such unfulfilled desires
but put them to bed (where I have now joined them).

By assuring him that everything is
and always will be okay,
I have traveled full circle –
returning through time to bless his lust,
circumvent shame,
encourage exploration,
and guiding him to disregard their influence;
to tame the monsters that would otherwise haunt him
until the day that he once again completed this paradox puzzle.

Written by Jason Wright
November 7, 2017

The Boy Who Disappeared

The wind outside was biting
and the group was keeping time.

He was shy about his writing
though his smile was sublime.

That smile held us ransome
but the hour grew too late…

He was cute and handsome sexy
with a touch of something great.

He disappeared at midnight
while the others persevered.

I can’t recall his name;
he’s just the boy who disappeared.

Written by Jason Wright
November 7, 2017

Dream Lover

The boy in the dream…
ex-lover of mine.

He wasn’t quite real
but feels left behind.

I studied old photos;
remembered each gesture.

How could I forget
how we lay there together?

With ink on his chest
and lace on his boots…

He looks different now
there before his recruits…

But drawn just the same
and remember the laughs…

Remember the sex
and our hearts torn in half…

He sings of me now
though I didn’t know…

Can I reach out to him
through this ghostly glow?

Perhaps he’s not real?
Perhaps pictures lie?

The woman with pills
who sees him replies
she’s never known man
drinks pills with tequila…

She once dressed like me
and grew heliophila…

She smoked marijuana
and smiles at ghost…

Blond boy with eyes
outlined through the smoke…

Who gives me regret
but mostly just joy…

I wake and I write this
for dream of that boy.

He was fragments I’ve missed
from men that I’ve known…

Men that I’ve kissed
who were real flesh and bone…

Men I’ve pursued or just
played with for pleasure…

Each inspiration a man
that I treasure.

Four men I’ve known;
I remember them all:

Erich & Spike
& Bryan & Paul.

Written by Jason Wright
November 5, 2017

For Erich (H), James (M), Bryan (A), & Paul (S).

Sleepless Musings

Ride
inside me
Drive
deprive me
Tease
Reprise me
Please
Believe me!

Short and sweet
(yet incomplete)
the rhythm changes
(rearranges)
as words estrange…
I’m so deranged.

These words portray
a troubled mind
bored to play
in doubled blind
in senseless drivel
wrong and deep
endless sibilant
song of sleep.

Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017

Meaning < More

Bleak sin plantation
of bitterness bleach.

Darken my eyes
and study my lips.

Speak incantation
of gibberish speech.

Pardon my thighs
and bloody my bitch.

Night I decided was
night never chosen.

Blood suck syringe
pause rejoice afraid.

Sight that divided applause
never spoken.

And fucking the fringe
was a choice never made.

Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017

Watching the Game

I see him undressing
through counting of sheep.

I see him caressing
around where I sleep.

I breathe in his secret
as you play the game.

I witness my weakness
for lust laced with shame.

This dream leaves me broken
though roused when it beckons.

I dream of these moments
more often than seconds.

Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017

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