Tag: Poem

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A Thorn For Coronation

In the cold summer heat
where the chill is inside…

The boy in the garden
has secrets to hide…

Walking with walkman
and singing a dirge…

A screaming erection
while fighting the urge…

To talk to his idol;
soft spoken and gentle…

The man is a monster
yet so sentimental…

The man is tormented
and torments this boy…

With feelings that threaten
to create or destroy…
The boy in the garden.

The man that was chosen…
By fate or by chance?
He never will know…

But the boy has been captured.
The boy is enraptured.

The boy is in love
with a man made of snow.

Written by Jason Wright
February 3, 2000

Inspired by Jason Alery,

who I obsessed over endlessly in school,
while listening to “Winter Marches On” by Duran Duran.

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Brian Was Here (2026 Edit)

Brian was with me
in his home tonight.

Brian –
he carried me…

Brian –
he married me…

Brian was buried
in my arms tonight.

In these dreams he was older
than he ever was…

And his eyes shown then
with his long last love…

He held me in his arms because
his arms were a promise…
His tears were so honest…
His sorrow was love
in the presence of pain.

His fingers undressed me…
His skin pressed against me…
Tomorrow would come
so we lived unrestrained.

His passion, once gone…
and for ever so long…
Unspooled
in the starkness
that above us was aching.

His fingers, they whispered…
His kisses, they blistered…
Then cooled
in the darkness
that our love was making.

The kisses between us
were innocent lust:

expressions of love
in the absence of fear.

For our time is precious
when doubt is infectious:

We must love our loved ones
while we have them here.

Written by Jason Wright
January 9, 2000*

For Brian,

Who visited me in dreams
to love and be loved.

* This version was edited on July 24, 2026, which would have been Brian’s 50th birthday.


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RECIDIVOUS

I met him that night when it couldn’t have mattered…
We had gone too far when it did –
(to be sure)…

For before we had ever spoken or thought,
we were lost to that darkness –
with never a cure.

His eyes bright with drunken
boyish wonder,

This frock coated gentleman
bathed in black light,
and filled with a sadness
that tore me asunder:

We shattered together
and splinted the night.

In the encounters that followed
we rescued each other
but we knew we would never be saved…

For there are no survivors
from the plague of desires;
not when both men are ripe to be craved.

Our dire bravery in ruinous pleasure;
this sickness that found us as brothers…
was doomed from the moment our eyes met each others’:
no cure for these lost hungry lovers.

Written by Jason Wright
April 28, 1999

For Dorian:

Who is far too delicious and urban an angel
to not inspire my mind or my dick.

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