...and perhaps you will discover that these things which lightened your days were not as bright as first imagined, but that the illusion had more conviction than the illumination, and in the dying light and disorientation the darkness passed each of your senses through the aperture of the new: the flesh; the structures; the worn artefacts of the world became a braille for your lovely hands.

All Posts Categorised "Poetry"

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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Wednesday, October 6, 2010
  I orbit her without magic.

  I orbit her without magic and her

  eyes are dark.

  Her eyes are dark, and part

  of her is catatonic with the loss.

  I am wheeling in the distance,

  orbiting her without magic, and

  with her eyes fixed to mine,

  little trooper,

  she reaches for a smile

  that isn’t there.
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Tuesday, October 5, 2010
  Tacked to a limbo of

  longitude and latitude,

  love-louse-ridden,

  humbled by the gray march

  of time,

  all kisses assemble

  behind my wooden lips:

  prepared;

  primed;

  expectant;

  they are staccato ready:

  toting their hushed nerves;

  their amassed silences;

  their unwavering aims…
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Monday, October 4, 2010
  Everything is over.

  The moonless night.

  The laughter of wicked men.

  Even truth has been forgotten.

  This meeting of fingers -

  this flash of touch; this brief glance

  that holds a sniper’s lethal aim.

  This is how it feels

  to be frozen by divine accident.
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Sunday, October 3, 2010
  6 a.m in Salistoga.

  Perhaps somebody makes

  your skin sing with morning,

  with a gentle affirmation

  of touch,

  or you shake

  beneath a seismic caress.

  My hands have never been this empty.
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Saturday, October 2, 2010
  It is not the dark of a night, this climax we prise

  open like a gulf: it is a cavern’s bowel;

  it is a fathom of ink;

  it is the spread of a black pall.

  We make love

  to the crescendo of our own demise,

  our own reapers, cutting down the last need spilt

  without pleasure: not so much grim,

  but gone…
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Friday, October 1, 2010
  I tried forsaking you,

  sought out a foreign tongue

  as your executioner.

  I cannot forgive myself,

  circling amongst the shelves and

  stacks –

  lone eagle of regret -

  one blunt wing; one limp rudder

  of a stunned remembrance.
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Thursday, September 30, 2010
  Tigress, hunter of the merciless day,

  curling your soft shape into my hungry grasp,

  night climbs through your feline gaze;

  sleep fills you with a sleek purr.

  The room is aflame with your ember.

  You glow within my arms; your sparkling flesh

  smoulders with the godliness of perfect heat:

  you flare in me like a wild craving…
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Wednesday, September 29, 2010
  I have loved you with solitude,

  with myth,

  with a lack of fragrance,

  with the solemn inventories

  of all objects

  that don’t have your name affixed.

  When the retiring face of Autumn

  drops onto the world,

  it is our love…
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Tuesday, September 28, 2010
  I‘m going to die.

  Maybe it’s alarming to hear,

  alarming to say,

  maybe the thought is ugly

  and there are greater meditations

  but I’m not dwelling

  in that zone –

  I’m just aware.

  You will die too.
  Read more
  
• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Monday, September 27, 2010
  Oh, to make passion a king! To revel

  in the colors of his ancient palette, to paint

  the ruffians with one fine stroke of his engorgement.

  Before, our mouths were gagged with the cloth of a grim censorship:

  always unyielding, moribund, and not in the least bit sensual

  (unless you’re kinked that way – however you like it).

  Nevertheless, who can discourage the deft flash

  of that bristle? Who would waver upon the approach

  of such an experiment? Upon which folds of skin…
  Read more