Simple Pleasures

Stepping on gooey tar on a hot summer day.

Newly painted street lines (especially on a newly surfaced street).

Freezing cold tap water in the dead of winter.

Slipping into a bed with fresh, clean linen just after a shower.

Staring at your favorite piece of art when no one understands why you love it so much.

Staying up too late reading a textbook that's just too good to put down.

Daiquiri Ice.

Pants that fit.

Blogging.

Orange chocolate.

Mint chocolate.

Raspberry chocolate.

Chips and salsa.

The complete and utter silence during a heavy winter snowstorm.

Listening to the same amazing song over and over and over again.

Staying up way too late watching TV on my MacBook in bed.

Lunch at University Hospital.

Computers that work.

Friday nights.

Secondhand smoke-induced Europe flashbacks. 

Juicy nose-clearing sneezes.

Laughgasms - aka, Laughing Attacks.

She Spies and D.D. Cummings.

ThinkGeek.

Gay cinema.

Cuddling with my boyfriend.

Marilyn Monroe.

World.

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Burdened Bench

Hobos sleep

Kids climb

Women breastfeed

Lovers cuddle

Parents watch

Cats catnap

Dogs are tethered

Birds drop

Gossip whispers

Newspaper reads

Women womanized

Men hypermasculinized

Passers-by people-watched

Hair mocked

Clothing scoffed

Jealousy onlooks

Coworkers conspire

Strangers confide

Always vacant

Until needed

What a burden for slabs of wood and cast metal to uphold.

Inspired by:

Garry Winogrand
World's Fair
New York, 1964

 

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This I Know

I would give my life if it would save even one person from having to go through the mental misery, emotional agony, and spiritual hell I went through to get where I am today.

This I know:

God exists.
I am one of His children.
He loves me.
He wants me to be happy.
He will help me find happiness here in this life and in the next.
I can have a personal relationship with Him.
He will answer me.
God knows I'm gay.
My spirit was "gay" before I was born into this life.
I will be "gay" in the afterlife.
It's okay.
I can have an eternal family with another man.
I can have spirit children with another man.
The Church's current stance on gays is simply incorrect.
One day more will be revealed.

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Leaves

I want to leave this place.
I want to be somewhere lacking majority;
everyone is minority;
no privilege;
and that's what makes it perfect.

I want to leave this place.
I want to live somewhere I "belong";
extra-long stares and gawks unthinkable;
no double-takes;
and my normal is (your) normal too.

I want to leave this place.
I want to settle somewhere safe;
drama and heartache more bearable;
no knives in back;
and knowing someone has mine.

I want to leave this place.
I want to reside somewhere rich in kahones;
label dodging unnecessary;
no fear of being found out;
and we all have the balls to be.

I want to leave this place.
I want to exist somewhere that gives a damn;
bullying and suicide not taken lightly;
no 'jokes or 'phobes;
and hateful misunderstanding has no clout.

I want to leave this place.
I want to stay somewhere gray;
black and white absurd;
no "my way" nor "highway";
and being is not "just a phase."

I want to leave this place.
I want to dwell somewhere dreamlike;
this destination nonexistent;
nowhere is this blissful;
and what makes me think leaving will help?

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All this tiredness is making me sleepy.

I'm tired of being treated differently.
I'm so over being an exception.
I'm sick of everything I say and do being new, different, and "outside the box."

I'm spent making statements - political, social, religious...  

I'm done being "special." *gag* 

I'm tired of dodging possibly intellectual conversations.
I'm annoyed by the clumsy small talk.
I've had it with being the elephant in the room.
I'm worn out by my constantly burning ears.

I'm exhausted from hesitating.

I'm tired of being "abnormal."

I've had it up to here being called "homosexual."

I'm burnt out calling him "just a friend."

I'm disgusted with being your "gay friend."

I'm fed up with being the resident "gay couple."

I'm tired of being marginalized.

I'm tired of being classified. 

I'm tired of being compared - to gays, straights, and everyone in between...

I'm tired of being discriminated.

I'm tired of being stereotyped.

I'm tired of being an agenda.

I'm Jason.

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The Damage Is Done

You're a fraud
You're a liar
You're a hypocrite
You're despicable
You're disgusting
You're not the role model you think you are
You're not credible
You're ruining people's lives
You're ruining your own...

I can't believe how much I respected you
I can't believe now much I wanted to be you
I can't believe I wasted so much life on you
I can't believe I expended so many brain cells to understand you
...to identify with you
...to commiserate with you
Yet now I despise and resent you

You made me miserable...suicidal
Your latest actions are disgusting
What are you trying to prove?
You can't change it and you know it

Why won't you just shut up and go away now?
You've done enough damage

Jason 

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Why free-verse poetry?

You may have asked yourself, "Why does Jason write so much in a free-verse poetic style?"  The answer is the word "free."  I write full-fledged papers and essays for school...not for fun and definitely not for blogs...not when I'm free to write whatever I want, how I want it.

It's nice to not be forced to fully explain my thoughts in ways coherent to people other than me.  Free-verse leaves at least some of the interpretation up to the reader.  It leaves a pinch of mystery.  It's a conversation starter.  "So what did you mean when you said..."

So again, "Why does Jason write so much in a free-verse poetic style?"  Why not rhyming poetry?  Or just rambling paragraphs?  I don't really know.  Well, I actually borderline hate rhyming, so I know the answer to that one, but the rambling paragraphs?  I think the formatting and structure of a poem can say as much as the poem's words.  Rambling paragraphs are just that - rambling paragraphs with no structure, no meaning in the layout, no attention to detail, no suggestions for how the piece ought to be read.  Solution: free-verse poetry.  Maybe I should have written this more like a poem...

The end.

Jason 

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What to do...what to do?

I have desires burning deep inside my soul.
They burn so hot and so real...
     My flesh tingles and flushes, 
     My eyes swell and drip,
     My vocal cords seize and scream.

Physics, psychology, math, poly sci, astronomy, photography...
Have I chosen the right thing?

     I want to make a difference.
     I want to speak out.
     I want to speak up.  

But I'm terrified to do more than I already am.
What to do...what to do?

Do I want to be an "activist?"

What is an activist?

Am I already one?

     Can a physics major be a gay activist?

     A gay Mormon activist?

     A gay Mormon physics major activist?

Is that allowed?

Is it dangerous?

Is it treacherous to pursue?

Which side is more threatening anyway?

Of whom should I be more wary?
     Both?
     Neither?
     Have I already ruffled everyone's feathers?

Fence-sitting sounds so simple...

But it's not that easy.

     I still have fears.

     I still hesitate before saying I'm gay.

     I even hesitate before saying I'm Mormon. 

I have friends who don't understand, 

But who let me do my own thing;

No questions asked.

     Why don't they ask questions?

     With which part do they not agree?

It's exhausting to continually tailor my words

According to my company...

Do you know me?
Do you really know me?
Who do you think I am?
     Honestly.
I'm sorry, but,
     "You don’t know me,
      You don’t know me at all.
      You don’t know me,
      You don’t know me AT ALL."

I feel stuck.

Out of place.

Always wanting more gay friends...

     More straight friends...

     More Mormon friends...

     More gay Mormon friends...

                                              Who feel and think the way I do,

                                                   Truly,

                                              Not because it's the "right answer"

                                                   Or they can't make up their mind...
                        Who doesn't "really just want to watch each other sleep...
                        ...Sleep sleep sleep."

     More friends to occupy and distract my thoughts

From wandering and wondering what I wonder...

What to do...what to do?

I want to be in love.

I want to be head-over-heels.

I want to be wooed.

I want to want to woo.

I want a hand to hold. 

I want to care and not care.

When will I meet him?
Have I already met him?
Will I find him at school?
Work?
 Through a friend?

Would acting on my activism help me find my partner in crime?

                    I want to have the courage...                                                            

                    I want to have the strength...                                                           

                    I want to have the drive...                                                               

                    I want to have the reason...                                                             

                    I want to have the security...                                                           

                    I want to have the voice...                                                              

                    I want to have the sense...                                                              

                    I want to have the stamina...                                                           

                    I want to have the energy...                                                            

                    I want to have the support...                                                           

                    I want to have the enthusiasm...                                                      

                    I want to have the confidence...                                                      

to

                                                                                             end the hate.

                                                                                    end the ignorance.

                                                                                           end the abuse.

                                                                                         end the disgust.

                                                                                 end the self-loathing.

                                                                                               end the lies.

                                                                                        end the suicides.

                                                                                  end the helplessness.

                                                                                 end the hopelessness.
                                                                                        end the excuses.
                                                                                           end the doubt.
                                                                                             end the fear.

What to do...what to do?

Fearlessly be myself.

Jason 

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Wishes: A Letter

Wishes: A Letter

When my hair was still bull cut

I stood with the horses

Feeding them apples and cherries.

You rocked on the porch wishing—

Wishing it would never end.

But at seven, my mind grew

     And yours faded.

Age is setting in and I wish—

Wish I could turn back time.

You stayed strong-no pain-

     Only courage.

It is so hard to watch this process

And I wish—

Wish it would not claim more.

As eleven rolls by, hope has changed.

Hope of life turns to hope of freedom

     From the sickened body and mind.

As we kneel around your bed

     We pray for your comfort and release

And wish—

Wish we could see grandpa again too.

Now much has passed and we’ve all come to terms

     That you are gone.

But memories give life—

Hope gives life—

Love

        gives

                 life!

I can’t wait for the day when I need wish—

Need wish no more.

(Written in May/June 2006)

Inspired by Ezra Pound's "The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter"

Jason

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Aaron the Whole Foods Boy

"Aaron the Whole Foods Boy" by Jason Hoggan

(Inspired by Kristin Chenoweth's "Taylor the Latte Boy")

There's a boy I'll meet at Whole Foods

Who is very diet contentious

He is very diet contentious because of many things.

I come in at 7:30 (PM, of course) and head straight for the bulk whole raw cashews.
We all love our bulk whole raw cashews
They make our taste buds grow wings!

So today at 7:30 (PM, of course)
I realized this is probably where I'll meet him
This is probably where I'll meet him
But near some obscure gluten-free food

So today at 7:30 (PM, of course), when I headed straight for the bulk whole raw cashews
I took a sharp turn to the right instead
And headed toward the blessèd nut thins

And I pondered, "Are these obscure enough?"
"Probably not.  They're pretty picked over and popular."
I bet his name will be Aaron,
Which provides the inspiration for this poem:

Aaron the Whole Foods boy
Bring me gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, bring me joy!
Oh Aaron the Whole Foods boy
I love him, I love him, I love him...

So I'd like to get my nerve up
And search a new GF aisle
He'll be on a new GF aisle
By an extremely obscure food
So today at 7:30, I went down another GF aisle
There I see a boy humming LeAnn Rimes with hot, sexy red hair!

As I quickly glide toward him, I chime in to his humming
It's "Something I Can Feel"! (Thank goodness not something cliché!)

So I gently tap his shoulder, and mouth the words to the song
And I knew his singing back meant that Aaron loved me too!
I said, "What's that in your hand there?  And by the way, I love your red hair..."
He said, "Gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free cookies and this box right here is just for you!"

*sigh* 

Aaron the Whole Foods boy
Bring me gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, bring me joy!
Oh Aaron the Whole Foods boy
I love him, I love him, I love him...

I used to be the kind of guy
Who'd cringe when love stood in front of him.
But finally a blood test whispered, "Love can be yours
If you venture into Whole Foods for GF delights!"

Aaron the Whole Foods boy
Bring me gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, bring me joy!
Oh Aaron the Whole Foods boy
I love him, I love him, I love him...

So many months my heart has dreamèd,
Who'd have thought that love could be so gluten-free?

Aaron the Whole Foods boy

I love him, I love him, I love him...
I love him, I love him, I love him...

---

"Taylor the Latte Boy" by Kristin Chenoweth (Lyrics provided below.)

There's a boy who works at Starbucks

Who is very inspirational.
He is very inspirational because of many things.

I come in at 8:11, and he smiles and says, "How are you?"
When he smiles and says, "How are you?"
I could swear my heart grows wings!

So today at 8:11
I decided I should meet him
I decided I should meet him
In a proper formal way.

So today at 8:11 when he smiled and said "How are you?"
I said "Fine, and my name's Kristin,"
And he softly answered, "Hey."

And I said "My name is Kristin, and thank you for the extra foam..."

And he said his name was Taylor, 

Which provides the inspiration for this poem:

Taylor the latte boy,

Bring me java, bring me joy!

Oh Taylor the latte boy,

I love him, I love him, I love him...
 
So I'd like to get my nerve up
To recite my poem musical.
He would like the fact it's musical
Because he plays guitar.
So today at 8:11, Taylor told me he was playing
In a band down in the village in the basement of a bar.

And he smoothly flipped the lever to prepare my double latte,
But for me he made it triple! (And he didn't think I knew)
But I saw him flip the lever, and for me he made it triple,
And I knew that triple latte meant that Taylor loved me too!
I said, "What time are you playing? And thank you for the extra skin..."
He said, "Keep the $3.55," because this triple latte was on him.

*sigh*

Taylor the latte boy,
Bring me java, bring me joy!
Oh Taylor the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him...

I used to be the kind of girl
Who'd run when love rushed toward her.
But finally a voice whispered, "Love can be yours,
If you step up to the counter and order."

Taylor the latte boy,
Bring me java, bring me joy!
Oh Taylor the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him...

So many years my heart has waited,
Who'd have thought that love could be so caffeinated?

Taylor, the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him.
I love him, I love him, I love him. 

Special thanks to Maren Ritter for being the reason I love this song so!

Jason 

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Burden on Society

Yes...and can I get that without bread?
     ...without seasoning?
     ...without sauce?
     ...without croutons?
     ...without dressing?
And also...without cheese?
            ...without mayo?
            ...without cream sauce?
            ...without butter?
Yeah...can I get that plain?
                            ...on corn shells?
                            ...wrapped in lettuce?
                            ...bun-less?
So uh...can I substitute that with guacamole?
                                       ...with salsa?
                                       ...with rice?
                                       ...with plain steamed veggies?
                                       ...with rice noodles?

Can I ask you a question...?
What is this fried in?
Is it fried with anything breaded?
How often do you change the oil? 
How often do you clean your grill?
Could you please change your gloves?
Could I see your gluten-free menu?
Do you even know what gluten is?
Then can I see your allergy menu?
This black and white piece of printer paper is it?
Oh, so even though your menu says it's gluten-free, it actually isn't?
Where is the gluten-free section?
Oh...that little area is it?
I've already tried all of it...
 
No, sir...no.  
You have this backwards:
Society is a burden on ME.

Can I speak with the manager?

Jason

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Fence-Sitting

Am I just crazy?
Am I missing something?
Am I just not with it any more?
Have I gone off the deep end? 
Am I a lunatic?
I don't understand...

Why is it so difficult to comprehend being both Mormon and gay?
I don't think it's that difficult...
Why are you so worried about what everyone else thinks about you?
Why do they feel so compelled to live "all or nothing" lives?
Why do you want to conform?
Being Mormon is a part of you.
Being gay is a part of you.
Why deny either of those aspects?

Some call it fence-sitting.

If "fence-sitting" is what it takes so you don't kill yourself...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes so you can finally find some peace in this life...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes so you don't make the biggest mistake of your life...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes for you to forgive yourself...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes for you to forgive everyone else...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes for you to be yourself...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes to literally keep your sanity...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes to truly soul-search...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes to discover your own opinions and beliefs...
If "fence-sitting" is what it takes...
                                                     how on earth can it be so wrong?

The gays aren't right about everything.
The Mormons aren't right about everything.
They both have things to contribute.
They even coincide!

So...
Am I just crazy?
                                                    Or are you?
Am I missing something?
                                                    Or are you?
Am I just not with it any more?
                                                    Or are you?

Have I gone off the deep end? 

                                                    Or have you?
Am I a lunatic?
                                                    Or are you?
I don't understand...
                                                    you.

Jason

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

To all the (difficult) parents of gay children:

It's not a phase.
It won't change.
It can't change.

Do you honestly think your child would choose to be this way?
Why would you want your child to change?
Why do you want your child to change?
Why can't you love them the way they are?
It's not like you didn't have a suspicion...

It's not your "fault."
It's not their "fault."
You played enough catch with him.
You had enough tea parties with her.
He had enough interaction with you, dad.  
And mom, you weren't "overbearing."

How dare you hit him?
How dare you slap her?
How dare you kick him out of your house?
How dare you call her those names?
How dare you disown your child?
Maybe you don't deserve to have your own child as part of your life anyway.

Don't you get it?
Your religion can't "save" him.
Your counselor can't "fix" her.
What is there to save?
What is there to fix?

Remember that thing called unconditional love?
Use it.

He confided in you because he trusts you.
She told you because she wants, no, needs your support.

What makes him happy?
What gives her joy?
Support that.
The rest will fall into place.

You don't hold the answer.
Neither do they.
Just hop on for the ride.
Take it day by day.

Jason

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An Ode to Fog

An Ode to Fog

You are:

So mysterious

So moist
So humidifying

So refreshing

So chilling

So obscuring

So swathing

So stirring

So romantic

So zombie-filled

So enveloping

So brief

So tranquil

So surprising

So quiet

So still

So fleeting

So unbelievably beautiful
So...foggy!

Zombie-Filled

Our lovely, blanketed valley

Eerie

Tree Fog Shadows

Jason

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