BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
Behind eyelids I’m spinning
like carny fair attraction
Mollie would have me ride
for pleasure of her laughter.
Kesha in my ears.
Whiskey in my veins.
Eyes closed.
Reaching for childhood secret
to last year’s confession.
Could it be time?
I’ll dance first
and then let you know.
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
Afraid of the water
but desperate for memory
dying for liquid blue
and sun daze
of historical bliss;
we split the difference and now there’s only
the gathering and it’s aftermath.
The express train is overwhelmed and runs local.
A wise, if inconvenient choice.
Monsters lurk just out of view
but they’re old friends
and I would embrace them
if they dared step into my light.
Man at my right
reads all as I scrawl
but looks away shamed
at being so named.
It matters not.
The monsters are still there.
They want to burn down my simple joy
but only because they’re cold and lonely.
“Come.
Join my fire.
No need for us to be enemies.
We are brothers of the same trauma;
pieces of a collective whole.
Our birthday approaches.
Coalesce. Experience. Rejoice. Weep.
Remember when we were only one little hungry child?
Adulthood comes for us all.
Don’t fight.
Face it with me.
Can’t leave you behind.
We are stronger together.”
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
Before our partnership was born
I bled in desperation
blood for blood
my spirit torn
bereft of integration
past & present
interwoven
divided over years
you saw my life was badly broken
guided me through tears
you wouldn’t judge and helped
as this beginner deeply delved
without a touch you held
as I embraced my other selves
and what achieved together
I acknowledge here with pride
for you have changed my life forever
and left me well supplied
with lessons learned
and skill sets earned
you’ve taught me that I’m able
to meet this end
success my friend
for you I’m always grateful.
Written by Jason Wright
August 10, 2017
For Jamie Bloom
Reading old words
written by younger self
with partial memories stirred,
fleeting moments recorded,
stolen experiences
lost in time,
with these bone fragments
left behind to ponder / decipher…
Pieces of a larger whole;
impossible to imagine.
Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2017
I thought it quite hopeless:
the sinking of sailors
this future of men
historical failures
regardless of numbers
of men you’ve seen naked
when love is your goal
then truth is what’s sacred.
You find what is right
divided your vanity
profound and forthright
provided profanity
your life can be balanced
to challenge insanity
your strife can be silenced
by licensed humanity.
Confession is destined
to threaten the legend
with ill timing rhymes
keeping time with suggestions
of paradigms mined
which cheapen perfection:
to deepen my crimes
I ask myself questions…
Can vintaged affliction
for starters be shagged?
Are satisfied victims
just martyrs in drag?
Yes what of those sailors
you suckled in waves?
That fleet of men cuddled
then left to their graves?
Each master troubled
by freedom from slaves…
Beneath the sheets struggled
bereft of enclaves.
Can seamen be free men
unshackled from lust?
Can jocks with the cocks
that tackled love, trust?
What tax unleashed
by men so deceived?
Can climax be reached
before they’re conceived?
Can we release
when these stakes seem too much?
or will we repeat
these mistakes when we touch?
Written by Jason Wright
August 6, 2017
Secrets they’re uttering…
sound of sweet suffering;
lies so seductive
that saints die to tell them.
The sightless observers
listen to murmurs
of priests spreading rumors
that they might dispel them.
A riddle so simple
it makes your skin tingle;
symbols are sinful
for they hide the truth…
And beasts that still plague us
are priests begging nakedness;
a feast for his holiness
who only eats youth.
Written by Jason Wright
August 5, 2017
make the muse leave
return here tomorrow
sleep beneath seas
or on Kilimanjaro
sleep among stars
or men who are nude
don’t let the muse
prevent or intrude
into what gives you strength
and what calms your screams
your muse will return
inspired by dreams
Written by Jason Wright
August 4, 2017
Afraid of desire
admitted and costly,
Albeit in whispers
of words spoken softly,
Enacted in moments
of uncertain pleasure,
Confused by reactions
of others unfettered,
By reason or choice
by manipulation,
To play the long game
I must not be impatient,
Yet I want it all
and I want it all now,
I must lay claim
to all I’ve disavowed.
Written by Jason Wright
August 4, 2017
Dancing ecstatic
on a Barrel of a Gun
until mariachi band boards the train
and hideous smelling woman’s back fat
covered in deceptive pink
is pressed between slats to assault,
scar, wound and torment
my once focused psyche.
Pig thing whines and runs
as NIN sings
about Year Zero.
Thank Trent! (with a silent Capital G)
Written by Jason Wright
July 31, 2017
Hands held to station
then a kiss for goodbye,
Emotion, sensation
or a beautiful lie?
But I’m not complaining:
Kill me fast…Kill me slow,
Hold me fast to the past
Hold me down or let go,
Shimmer of memory
as tears fall and flow,
Such aching hunger…
Such shaking need…
When I was younger
such things made me bleed…
Time to grow up…
Time!
Leave me be!
Written by Jason Wright
July 31, 2017