...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
  
  Sunday, January 4, 2009
  Because you exist, I cannot see the world.

  You leap from lilacs, and tambourines,

  and bubble in the eddying waters. You plucked

  me from the stalk of a limp night, and because you exist

  I am suffocated by your name.
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Saturday, January 3, 2009
  You who turn from love in pain,

  turn kindly: seek the tender cycles of the world.

  The winter greets with joy-flung arms

  the first fog’s slow return, and so the moon

  shall know its lover’s face, the sun sinks

  without quarrel. Spring dances without clothes

  as Autumn looks on, waiting, and neither

  will depart the grand design.
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Friday, January 2, 2009
  I was a bump in the day.

  I walked fifty miles of aimless, looking

  in each pavement crack for the faces of angels,

  turned blind corners with eyes wide open,

  sat quietly at out-of-service bus stops,

  for an event I didn’t wish to attend,

  nor could remember the invitation for.

  Noon spun on a dry axis,

  each second needing the grease of

  a troubled thought and an injured sigh,

  and the leaves dived without noise, just as expected,

  from the maples along the street

  and the eucalypts upon the mountain.
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Thursday, January 1, 2009
  It sticks to your insides, this endless tramp

  of the daily, damp commute. This war against the clock

  and how each monstrous hour falls and falls

  and chimes a bleak reminder.

  The calendar, it hurtles slickly by – you swallow

  knowledge like you fight a rising gorge –

  those displaced days that made up all your youth

  lie littered in your wake:

  the carrion for history’s avid vultures.

  And yet, you grow accustomed to the loss -

  and grinding down the journey of each day

  into a powdered debt – resolve to pay yourself

  at Destination.
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Wednesday, December 31, 2008
  You are The One:

  let me tell you about the reason for being made.

  These eyes given to me, these things I look upon

  in the focus that remains

  within the textures of imperfect light -

  there is only your action:

  all else peels from view.
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Tuesday, December 30, 2008
  How you glow, even though the night falls in my soul.

  Even as I grow immersed in the dark, you glow. Your soft

  smile breaks even as my clouds gather.

  One cloud. Two. A storm. A rainy fortnight -

  a flood of Noah.

  You await my return: shining; gleaming.

  I depart, to climates that you never know

  exist in me: fields of precipice; oceans full of caves;

  infinite tunnels of bones and decay; wasteland

  upon wasteland upon wasteland…
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• 
  by
  Jé Maverick
  
  Monday, December 29, 2008
  I long to whisper faintly,

  so faintly that only you should hear me –

  not gods, nor angels, nor nearby pines

  with their needling ears -

  so faintly that I should not hear myself.

  Perhaps I would say, my love,

  that our love is a flower

  with grim petals – that they are closed forever -

  dying without blossom on the stalk.
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