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- Jé Maverick
Hey there, I’m Jé Maverick, a poet and writer who lives and works in Canberra, the national capital of Australia. I’ve found that blogging is the perfect medium for poetry, mostly composed of less than sixty lines, and am hoping that through this blog I can generate as much interest in poetry as possible. Poetry is a vital and significant art form that is the true workshop of any language. I’m interested in teaming up with as many poetry fans and poets as possible (whatever their level of skill and dedication), and creating a network around the web for those who would like to see poetry and its authors re-emerge as an energetic and far reaching community. To find out some more facts about who I am and what makes me tick, please visit the about page, send me a note through the contact page, or see what I'm up to on the projects page. Thanks for reading! :-)
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byTuesday, November 23, 2010I’ve decided to quit talking for three months.
Going in, I was aware that this would be hard – maybe the hardest thing I’ll ever do – but the reality is always different to the desire or the myth you’ve dreamed up beforehand. Giving up talking is also *NOT* like giving up smoking or Twinkies, no – speech is more than a habit or an impulse – it’s first nature. Yet, after a few fits and starts, I’ve finally succeeded in a full day’s worth of staying quiet – as in: totally speechless. There were a couple of moments that were touch and go, but I managed to catch buses, order hot chocolates, and attend classes – all without saying a word to anybody. The hardest thing was saying nothing in class – I’m usually the one who won’t stop talking in the discussions – yet I managed to pull it off with a few well-timed hand gestures and odd jerks of the head. And, thankfully, we were having an exam so we had to stay quiet. The joys of dumb luck. Nobody has asked me a direct question yet – which is good – and in the situations where I have had to make a request or an order I’ve written down exactly what I need to say beforehand. Then I’ve just held up my notebook to whoever is in charge of making me happy.
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bySunday, October 17, 2010Before we marry you should knowthere is a torrent of my freak digital penisthat is being shared on the interwebs. From peer to peerthis radical sex craze is going viral -it is giving new meaning to hard drive;it is being retweeted like a leaked document;the sum of all experience is a status update… -
bySaturday, October 16, 2010And in the practice of lovewe find that we are walking on tightropes;and in the practice of lovewe are trying to upset the balance of the other.How much better it isto dance together in the open field;how much better it isto laugh together beneath the sun. -
byFriday, October 15, 2010This is a blog post for Blog Action Day 2010, and the theme for this year is Water. You can check out more posts here: http://blogactionday.change.org/
I decided to go against the grain a little, and am attempting to draw attention to a way of solving any water crisis we have in the future by using technology that already exists to increase the supply of water. I’m not a well informed environmentalist, but do feel like I am a pseudo-environmentalist nonetheless. I also believe that if the environment and the economy are in conflict, the environment must win. Having said that, I feel that approaches to problems can be a little narrow, and that if we used our heads a little more fluidly, we may not get so fixed on single solutions. I think that prevention is something that we fetishize in todays world, which is ok in and of itself, but when a cure can be applied sometimes prevention is not the best option. Anyway, thats up to the masses to decide. I’m just some guy on the interwebs. Say Hi! to your family for me.
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byThursday, October 14, 2010This night haired girl from the north islandhas thighs as warm as her people’s history.To join with her in a song of bodiesis to enter, with peace, the open sky.Her lips contain the love of the world:Mau tena kiwai o te kete, maku tenei.Each of us a handle of the basket.What we carry, we carry together. -
byWednesday, October 13, 2010Losing faith in who I am,I wear myself as a black armband,as a bad trinket:I silence myself as an unspeakable history -I’ve slain all the mirrors.I will let it all dribble through me: the tapirs; the grapes; the shampoo bottles– it is all the same.Things bleed; lose edge; (cry amongst themselves) speak in gibberish.The manholes, the fruit bowls, the hydrants,the bearded men, the sprinkle of dust that coats -
byTuesday, October 12, 2010Beyond the blue is void: we know this.We know this and we squat,hatching plans amidst grief;swimming; hailing cabs;loving summers, icecream.We do it, squatting,tracing empty circlesin the clean dirt -sketching options; mining forThe One Shrewd Answer.Slim pickings.More of the same cycle. More ofthe same cycle. Moreof the same cycle.We are consigned to feast on scarsand brutal histories,growing fat; learning nothing. -
byMonday, October 11, 2010She had lovely arms, lovely as the feeling of a silk camisolebeing eased over a plump chambermaid’s head,or lovely like the touch of leggings woven from black smoke,and all you wanted was for her to be in, then out, of fabric.It was always! about the flesh being confused –it was always! about imprisonment and liberation.You never meant to choose this garden – it was always!location, location, location for the right kind of seeds. -
bySunday, October 10, 2010On the left side of the quadranta Venezualan oil merchant shrieked:“Foul! This nimwit is lost in a nebulalooking for a military compass.” The broadsheetsin Andromeda rustled with a taciturn delight –all the docks had been unloaded of virgins –they were expecting no more shipments. -
bySaturday, October 9, 2010And it came to pass, it came to pass, it came to pass,with rictus and calamity, with the sinew of a tired world,that men had explored all frontiers, that life was closedfor the weekend, was thinking of selling up and movingaway to a place with a moderate climate and watersideviews, that the world had lost shape and was consideringretirement, getting plump, forgetting Prada, and settling downwith Pluto, the illegitimate planet, to grow fat on taboo or pie
