free prose

here we go, its been a little since i wrote
so i want you all to know
that I haven’t gone anywhere
just picking up the pieces of a small house
a mind that drowned in smoke
and out for fresh air
i wrote a song the other day
i do it all the time
but this one was special
because it was mine
but now, i am regaining tracks
from the world that turned its back
but i can keep on breaking the block

writers can write for every day of the month
and i can do it after blunt after blunt
now, i can sing a song for all you wanderers out there

and it goes

here i am world, love me
you can see me, feel me, and follow the three
to your favorite tree, to the world
that left you also left me
but i can sing, a song, roll up a paper
and chase the dog

the dog stole my shoes
this world has stolen my youth
the dentist says i got a gold tooth
but thats all from the coffee and cigarettes
listening to the grouch, down loaded legally
loading my mind to find some sense

what is left, when you lose self respect
gotta gain it in some form another
just writing as quick as i can
cause i am a fantastic fox
my mind in detox
leaving for mexico
hope all goes well, while i’m gone.

word is my bond,
and my mind is a bomb
and my heart is a tomb
and my love is my womb
and my mind is a mushroom
and sticky, icky green

my life is a magazine
a magazine you must read
a word that must be fed to be read
to talk about my innocence
is like talking about the difference
of vitality and impotence
it’s like reading a song
and playing a poem
its like having a house
but sleeping on stone

its like writing on chalk boards
and erasing again and again

im going to fight through this block
come to my block, walk up my stairs
of my third story
and you will find my story
playing bass, while my feet shift from place to place
keeping pace, but losing face
every time i lift my finger tips onto each string

i find i begin to lose everything
and i think im fine with it
just a poet, writing misfit
trying to get through the block
the one that I live on, and the one i deal with.

thats true talk, from one who can sing
and one who can write
and one who can think
too tired to fight

thats true talk from jason wright
one who can’t think
and too tired to write.

Thats fighting through the block
finding water in a drought
thats letting your mind to go
to figure things out

thats just another mind stoned playing playstation
thats another mind waiting for vacation
and you have read another

jagged thought by jason.