Tag: POETRY: 2011

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THE COWBOY AND THE PRIEST

The priest and the cowboy
who murdered each other…

Killed with a kindness
they both thought was clever…

Zombie decay
decomposed into lust…

With nightmares more deadly
than panic or trust…

For shades hide between
what is real and is right…

They look so alive
when seen in the light…

But night time,
it blossoms them into the dying…

They can’t understand
why they’re bleeding and crying…

They can’t understand
why their pain has increased…

And they won’t find the truth
until pain is let loose…

And life can infuse
both cowboy and priest.

Written by Jason Wright
NOVEMBER 5, 2011

On our first Halloween together, Aaron dressed as a cowboy and I dressed as a priest. We went to a party and I got a call from Sean Mobley who let me know that his father had died. The party had a karaoke portion and I saw “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan in honor of Ted.

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THE OPPOSITE OF LOVE

You were “the one”,
that’s what my friends said…

But you were a lie
and a ghost in my head…

You’re so insecure
and you struck while I slept…

You made me afraid
it was my fault I wept…

But my life is changing;
Believe me…
It’s true.

You can’t hurt me now:
I’m indifferent to you.

Written By Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011

For Michael Slaughter –

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HATRED ESCAPE

I’m caught in a trap
and I need to get out…

I need to break free
of my own sense of doubt…

I need to believe
that I can survive…

I can’t let myself
be buried alive…

I hate what has happened
to childhood me…

I hate that I listened
to Father’s dark plea…

I hate that the Michael
I knew never stayed…

I hate that my brother
has left me betrayed…

I hate that I hate this;
it just gives me grief…

I hate that my sickness
has trumped my belief…

But I love those I’ve known
and I can’t just desert them…

So I try to keep breathing
and try not to hurt them.

Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011

For Jason

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CIGARETTES FOR DAVID

When I smile for others
or remember through tears…

When I remember my brothers
have been dead for years…

I sometimes light candles
not because I believe…

But more for the action
that allows me to grieve.

But this friend’s alive
so candles seem wrong…

And he’s too far away…
Too grave
and headstrong to not make a gesture
without such regret…

So I raise up my lighter,
To honor the fighter,
A nonsmoker smoking his last cigarette.

Written By Jason Wright
October 20, 2011

For David Hull.
I wish I could do more to help.

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SHADOWS AND A VISION

The man in the house is a dream
not yet woken…

A devilish angel
their God has not broken…

He stands in that darkness and
nothing corrupts him…

Escaped from this prison
and it cannot touch him…

But it haunts his eyes
and I want to soothe him…

Want to caress,
connect and move through him…

But I cannot touch him
for ghosts don’t exist…

Yet he felt so alive
on the night that we kissed.

He appeared in my room
and awkwardness followed…

His thoughts deftly filled me
yet made me feel hollowed…

We wandered the streets
and I saw he was right…

They do look like paintings
at this time of night.

We shared our stories,
of pain and of drinking…

And I’m going to Hell
for all I kept thinking…

Between flash of eyelashes
time slowed to such length…

Seduced by such visions
of vulnerable strength…

Such moments were fleeting
for friendship was needed…

The slut deep inside me
confessed and conceded…

For he hears his heart
far more clearly than I…

He’s somewhere beyond me
and I don’t know why…

Returned to his home;
overwhelming and minimal…

Leaving him there was both
haunting and criminal…

The shouting and smells
seek to silence; malign him…

But he will survive…
This ghost is alive…
And the houses he haunts will never define him.

Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 10, 2011

For David Hull

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CONFLUENCE

Dreams of grandfather
confessing his love…

Memories of children;
school can be rough.

Remembering dreams
filled with men and with kisses…

What it was to be young
and often how vicious…

It all seems important
but is gone in an instant…

It all seems so fragile
yet oddly insistent…

Every blink of my eyes
brings more thoughts to pin me…

It all seems so varied
yet crashes within me.

Written by Jason Wright
September 8, 2011

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Weekend / Weakened

Awakened with hope;
quickened with laughter…

A smile for child and all that came after…

But not long at all,
And I cannot leave,

I struggle to smile…
to breathe and believe.

The week has wreaked havoc;
made weak what was strong…

I struggle to smile…
to be and belong.

No matter the struggle;
how great or how often…

At times to be strong
one embraces exhaustion.

Written by Jason Wright
July 21, 2011

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JULY 4, 2011

For all my life
felt left behind

It’s not too late
to find my mind

It’s not too late
to make my way

It’s not too late
I start today.

Written by Jason Wright
July 4, 2011

Edit: 08-12-26 – This was serious. This was a signpost that I followed, which changed my entire life. 4 months later I was in a relationship. 5 or 6 months later I had moved and had a new job. Less than a year after that I was moving to New York. I also got back into therapy around that time and I’ve worked at it ever since, with a lot of hard earned progress.

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The Promise of Love

You were only 18.
I was 20 + 6.

You seduced without trying
and then hurt me for kicks.

But first came the smiles,
the passion and laughter…

The promise of love
that preceded disaster.

The heart of me: ruined.
The spark of me: broken.

The pain made me wish that we’d never spoken.

For the child that lived
deep inside of me cried…

And the ghost of him haunted
although he’d survived…

8 years suffering
followed instead…

Until I embraced him
and let him be fed…

And the child inside
was nourished and lived…

And I faced my demons
and learned to forgive…

And you and I spoke
of a love that was killed…

Yet the friendship we’ve made:
the promise fulfilled.

Written by Jason Wright
May 11, 2011

For Travis

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