Tag: Poem

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Epilogue

If the dark of Seattle
makes you start
to seem marginal,

Let me remark that
you are remarkable.

Insightful and vivid;
you are such a vision.

That others would
hurt you for spite or religion
brings tears to my eyes,
and I barely know you.

And it’s not just because
I loved being below you.

You’re kind and you’re funny;
you’re cute and you’re daring.

You’re sexy and charming
and layered and caring.

You have much to give;
don’t be shy or reluctant…

Because some lucky guy
will want you for a husband.

And you’ll be amazing,
I should know
’cause I’ve met you.

No one who knows you
could ever forget you.

Written by Jason Wright
July 9, 2017

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Innocence Lost

When we speak about nothing
we sound easy going.

But our diet of words
is weighted with knowing.

Conversation we’re having
is new yet outdated.

Nothing’s the same
once you’ve been penetrated.

The words we don’t say
are more cutting than surgeons.

Our words should be changed
as we’re no longer virgins.

But we find that we’re kind
as we climb back on horses.

As we strive to derive
what survived intercourses.

Written by Jason Wright
June 30, 2017

My cousin Danielle, who I did not know in person, often interacted with me on Facebook and commented on my poetry. She died in October of 2020 but I was not informed as no one was aware of our online interactions. She was exactly 6 years younger than me, which we often commented on. Rest in peace cousin.

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Questions

Before Sunday morn
I was happy and glowing.

Before your call came
I was blissed and unknowing.

I knew of desires
and I knew your needs.

I’d suggested a plan
and hoped we’d succeed.

I shifted my limits
which were not ephemera.

I morphed into something
to solve your dilemma.

I thought myself kind
and loving and honest.

And then your call came
which left me demolished.

The question you asked
and the way that you asked it.

The sound of your voice
was like love mixed with acid.

Confession was sin
uncommitted yet tempted.

You revealed from within;
forewarned and repented.

You gave me the truth
that you thought to embargo,

As you braved rejection;
my wrath and my sorrow.

You asked me a question;
you begged satisfaction.

You pleaded to know
the truth through an action.

You needed to know
and said I’d defy you.

But even heartbroken
I could not deny you.

And now we are different;
yes, we’re not the same.

And now I have questions
that are hard to explain.

I’ve tried to express them;
to confirm my convictions.

But the riddles of love
imply contradictions.

I know that I’m right
but does that make you wrong?

Does confessing a weakness
in fact make you strong?

Can I be proud
of acts so unsavory?

Can cowardly acts
be inspired by bravery?

Can I be sympathetic
to how you depict him?

And if I’m aroused
can I still be a victim?

Can I be betrayed
if I’m kept in the light?

Can it truly be wrong
if I’m mostly alright?

Can I crave blue deception
while wanting the truth?

Can you find liberation
denied in your youth?

Will freedom enslave you
and kill us like cancer?

We have lots of questions
without many answers.

Written by Jason Wright
June 29, 2017

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Bedtime Story

I masturbate
crying
and cum harder too.

I fantasize
dying
believe me it’s true.

Wipe tears from eyes
then shower me smoothe.

Now tell me again
coward
tell me the truth.

Written by Jason Wright
June 28, 2017

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Forced Open Relationship

You beg on the phone
to have what you need…

Like a junkie on smack
talking calmly of speed…

But I’m hooked on it too;
on the sex of your greed…

You feed the fire
as you swallow his seed.

I’ve dreamt of this moment;
been prepping for ages…

Been setting the traps
and been traveling through stages…

We were a team
but in two different places…

That the having has happened
without me enrages
my dick and my anger;
my hurt and my fear,

I’m impotent / horny;
unsated by tears,

I’m so many things
on many frontiers,

And this can’t be the end
after so many years.

Written by Jason Wright
June 28, 2017

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Losing My Mind

Every time you aren’t here
and a question is raised,

Each new innovation
has left me quite dazed,

But you are a man
who deserves to be praised,

So forgive
if you live
with a man who’s quite crazed.

The last couple nights
have been harder than most,

Filled with hard choices
that have killed me almost,

Of course it’s been hardest
because we’re not close,

You are the man
that I love the most.

The needs that you crave
are beyond existential,

I love you and want
what for you is essential,

Just keep me informed;
let’s keep it sequential…

And I’ll see you achieve
your greatest potential.

These changes are drastic;
for me they are vast,

They affect how I feel
and that can’t be bypassed,

It’s like losing my mind
when it happens so fast…

But then my love for you
struggles through
unsurpassed.

This drama of interludes
laced with profanity,

It may seem pathetic
or a fault of my vanity,

In falling for you
I have found my humanity,

And we all know that
falling in love is insanity.

Continue to tell me your
needs without fear,

You confound
and astound me
but let me be clear…

You arouse
which allows
and endows me with cheer,

And I lose my mind
every time you are near.

Written by Jason Wright
June 27, 2017

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Peter Pan Syndrome

I know you’ve been bad
and I know you’re unhappy.

I know that I love you
and I want you badly.

I’m asking the question
I must ask you sadly:

Not sure who you are…
but are you my Daddy?

You look like him, sure,
and the smile’s the same.

But his smiles were toys
and our love was the game.

His insides were broken;
said I’m not to blame…

But I’m frightened that Daddy
will leave out of shame.

Now bathe me in piss
and spank me with lust,

You feed me betrayal
that hardens my thrust,

I am roused by your lies
and I know it’s fucked up…

Daddy
is the only man
that I trust.

But if that’s who you are
and you still want to play,

With sticks and with balls
(and I don’t mean croquet)

I’m frightened that Daddy
will lie when he strays…

And frightened that we can’t survive
in this phase.

How many licks must I take
to be dutiful?

How many pricks must you slake?
It’s inscrutable.

Answer.
Be strict; not inexcusable.

How many dicks will it take
to be beautiful?

I know you don’t know

and I know you’re deserving
of much more respect

but the pain keeps reverting…

Forgive me,
this mess
can be disconcerting.

This is how children behave
when they’re hurting.

Written by Jason Wright
June 26, 2017

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Scruffy

My lover stands
in Budapest
while I’m training
beneath the ground.

He speaks to me in ecstasies;
all the rage without a sound.

Madonna sings
Ilyssa speaks
Once again the girl is drowned.

Enough of talk
It’s time to walk
What was lost may yet be found.

Written by Jason Wright
June 21, 2017

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The All Seeing I

I attempt to document
the immorality of Xanax
but the only evidence is a kooky fortune teller
who reads my chai tea leaves
and tells me I’m wasting my time.

I agree.

I think of him in California
on some app
naked and hunting
for affirmation of his desirability –
giving his attractiveness a score
equal to the number of dick pics he receives.

Will he thank them with blowjobs?

I don’t think he would cheat
but of course I never expect him to lie.

And why carry naked pictures
on a mobile device
if you don’t intend to share them?

I’ve seen things that I shouldn’t…
or should I have?

My inner I
is cloudy / wounded / bloody.

The red tears fall
and lubricate my way to the future.

Written by Jason Wright
May 25, 2017

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Our Assholes Are Not Different*

My asshole is liberal
and apparently terrifying.

In Chechnya, gay men like me are tortured
while I’m riding a bicycle for the first time in nine years.

I’m racing downtown
along the Hudson River….
just like Michigan childhood,
yet decidedly different,
feeling simultaneously young and very old;
muscles aching, blood pumping.

I have to eat soon and all of this must end.

Coffee in Lincoln Square? Lincoln Center? Lincoln somewhere.
Mingling with opera singers; this is my life now.
This, while those in Mother Russia
who survived the purge of A.I.D.S. have been incarcerated
by an astonishing ignorance,
in a war they can not hope to win.

We are not wayward heterosexuals.
We are born; not converted.
And it is those that hate and fear us so much
who are responsible for our creation.

The only FAGGOTS I’ve ever met were
conservative terrifying assholes.

Conservative or Liberal…
at least our assholes seem to match.

*with all due respect to Arthur Rimbaud.

Written by Jason Wright
April 11, 2017

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