Tag: Poetry

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Whore Friending Angel

The whore
used to make friends
by sleeping with them,
and though his behavior
has changed overtime,
the impulse
has stayed with him.

The young blond angel
asks this attention seeking whore
if he had to work for his blistering wit
or if it’s simply the product of his
inbred white-trash genetics?

“I got it from my sister.” I reply,
which doesn’t necessarily answer the angel’s question.

I enjoy the way he sounds as he asks me
and I struggle not to sexualize him
(with some limited success),
though I inevitably sexualize everything,
don’t I?

He seems both exceptionally strong
and remarkably fragile,
but I find this contrast
charming and disarming,
and find myself feeling protective,
encouraging,
and blessed every time
the angel’s eyes meet mine.

I know I’ll struggle with sharing this
with him.

Will my honesty
damn a budding friendship?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

And if that’s a possibility
should I now bite my tongue
for fear of hurting us
and by extension,
my lover and partner in all things?

I’m probably overthinking this.

This is stupid.

I know that Aaron will not be bothered,
and I’m keenly aware
that my lust is just an ever present companion,
an innocent natural type of
curious exploration and
my invisible personal passageway
to kinship.

Everyone knows such consummation is unlikely at best;
a friendship perverted by unholy unions
might make for provocative fantasy but let’s get real:

One seldom encounters angels
in the gutters of my mind.

Written by Jason Wright
February 27, 2019

For Liam

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Closed Eyes Opened

The keys to locked doors
set me free, allowing me
to traverse a life
that will not break me today,
despite micro instances of
bloodshed
behind closed eyes.

The twin chasms of
lust and betrayal
may never find
the balance
that I crave
but I put on a brave face,
open closed eyes
and look deep into
the darkened faces of my tormentors,
even as I feel my way toward illumination
by way of my blissed out cock
jutting confidently before me;
serving as my divining rod to truth,
my directional arrow,
my compass arm…
keeping me on course,
keeping me honest,
keeping me open in a world
which seeks to close my eyes forever.

Written by Jason Wright
February 27, 2019

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Manny

According to plumbers, common sense, building Supers
and the lie in your eyes,
it’s not pouring down upon you
in the way you insisted that it was.

We were asleep when you said we were guilty.

Yet you keep ringing the doorbell
that woke me from beautiful dreams:

Leave me the fuck alone.

Written by Jason Wright
February 19, 2019

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The Decision

All of your life
I was waiting

beneath the surface
where we could not see one another
through that reflective prismatic
membrane…
down beneath waves
in an ocean of time.

Our meeting
was not the frothy crash
one might expect between
two long separate bodies;
more a subtle swallowing

of pride,
an exceptional chance encounter between worlds,
between men,
emptied and refilled and accepted –
we drank each other down.

you are my sustenance

you have long nourished my soul
in a calming deluge of possibility,
a commingling of creation and interpretation –
your intoxicating mixture of unspeakable talent
with benevolent decency,
such rare treasure

is my honor and privilege to behold
and to bathe in,
to witness all that lies beneath

all that others seldom see.

How could anyone observe such strength
and such frailty,
such passion –

Who could spy such longing
and not find themselves quickened?

Such stimulation
can rob mortal men of decisional capacity.

I had no choice but to love you, you see…

And yet I find that
I decided all the same.

I chose to embrace the experience of you,
to appreciate it for what it was
and what you were,
I opted to be vulnerable and to be strong,
and then finally I agreed to follow
that untrodden path wherever it might lead.

You are the decision that has changed my life forever.

You are the choice that I made
that I have never regretted.

Written by Jason Wright
February 13, 2019

For Aaron

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A Stretch of Dark

On a harvesting night
from my sadness you came,

In the darkening light
in the absence of shame,

In vestige of darkness
inside your bright eyes,

Invested catharsis
within our rite lies,

I summoned you there
with my longing and pain,

I cum and inside you share
bonding profane,

You take that spark faded
and stretch it around us,

You make the dark sacred;
in darkness we found us.

Written by Jason Wright
January 24, 2019

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Scraps of Humanity

The scraps of a quilt
discordant yet clever,

A map made of silk
sown by spiders together,

The fighters raced home
and beneath covers sickened,

The lives of ill omens
unsheathed and then quickened.

The scraps of a life
from a day unremembered.

The traps of a wife
who delayed then dismembered
to scraps what before
was something like art…

Her collapse is more
than the sum of its parts.

Written by Jason Wright
January 24, 2019

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Split Infinity

A schism divides
and cleaves unrepented.

The system provides
and leaves us fragmented.

The fracture of fiction;
the lies when they’re spoken.

Fashioning friction
that dies when we’re broken.

Understand truth blinds
unfurled when run through.

I’m a man of two minds
in a world ripped in two.

Written by Jason Wright
January 24, 2019

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Coffee is Criminal

Bleeding and breathing and moving
to accommodate secret meeting of strangers
who are smart enough to avoid
hospital television ramblings
I block out with Endgame trailer music.

I’ve never seen an experienced barista
struggle so much with what was right in front of them – –
the instructions are right there on the side of the SHORT cup
but she removes them to apply them to a TALL
before being told politely that it’s meant to be short –
as she then awkwardly corrects that bizarre error
and then proceeds to get everything else wrong –
which I will not allow.

I paid $4.00 for that
so please fill it to the top
like I asked.

Thank you so much!

Waiting room madness continues
as we’re all pressed into service
for mysterious summons
whose purpose, when inquired
is refused by staff
who ask that we cease to congregate
near the windows…

What are they hiding from us?

Not long before two police arrive,
and then two more…
and then Anna asks me into her office
so we miss the exciting conclusion.

With procedural horror drama behind us
we fall into productive discussions
of PTSD, hot urologists,
respectful penis inspectors,
family dinners and reinforcement –
positive vs. negative –
bleeding and breathing and moving
to accommodate my future integration.

When I reach the ground floor lobby,
the fantastic woman named after an
ancient female vampire asks me for my details
and we witness man being seen to
by a horde of police men
surrounding an ambulance.

Some people need more attention than others.

Written by Jason Wright
December 11, 2018

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The Transcendental Purgation of Christian De Gré’s Wallet

Here are the words
of this object’s confession:

I’ve spent a great deal
of time pressed against Heaven.

But being so close
when denied holy union.

Was torture at worst
and at best just confusion.

I thought to be free
would release me from Hell.

But the Devil arrived
and enlightened my cell.

As he retched me free of
true Heaven’s embrace.

I found Hell was Heaven with my Hell replaced
by actual suffering; actual pain…

He showed me my torment
had been my own shame.

My own unacceptance
denied my admittance.

My disillusionment
blinded by brilliance.

My savior was there with me
there all the time.

But I failed to see
and denied him three times.

So Devil came calling
and caused my catharsis.

The damned saved my soul
when I saw light in darkness.

And burned in the bright
of that unholy day…

I learned what is right
and yearned not to stray…

Burned by transgression
and melted like chocolate…

Returned to the Heaven
of Christian’s back pocket.

Written by Jason Wright
November 29, 2018

For Christian De Gré’s wallet,
you lucky bastard.

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Wrong Head Denied

You were lost in the dark
and I sounded absurd.

Exhausted remarks
left you feeling unheard.

I swear that I heard you
and I feel regret.

I’m aware I deferred you
and caused our upset.

My only defense
is a timeless cliché.

My lonely pretense
is a rhymeless betrayal
of love and of care but
was truly attraction:

Thought overwhelmed
by the prime crime of passion.

Written by Jason Wright
November 29, 2018

For Aaron

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