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All Posts Tagged "Confessional Poems"

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  • Ghosting
    Ghosting
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Tuesday, December 7, 2010
    This is a new zone
    to float in:
    unheard –
    with that voice;
    with those things to say.
    What of the zeitgeist;
    the contract;
    the franchise;
    the promised
    land?..
  • The Bearded Men Are Free
    The Bearded Men Are Free
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Wednesday, October 13, 2010
    Losing 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
  • I Did It Again
    I Did It Again
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Monday, July 26, 2010
    So, I must have woken closer to the sun than ever
    because it’s needling the back of my eyes
    in harsher and more complicated ways than before,
    and this headache is so phenomenal
    that I feel like framing it and hanging it
    as an example to all who complain in the future.
    I’ll refer to it as the great headsplitter of ’10
    a pain among pains, women will weep and men will wince
    when they hear my tale. It’s not the hangover,
    but this proximity to the sun, which is, I guess,
  • Today I Went To Love
    Today I Went To Love
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Sunday, July 25, 2010
    It was a vast country
    where the strangers ignore you
    so much that you doubt your own presence.
    They are all in Love too:
    bumping into things,
    forgetting to eat,
    whistling and smiling unconsciously
    while looking into space.
  • As Those Who Carry Faith
    As Those Who Carry Faith
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Saturday, July 24, 2010
    As those who carry faith
    beyond the temple;
    as those who carry
    dreams of homeland beyond exile;
    so too love is carried
    beyond this absence.
  • Going Through The Motions (Silence Of The Lambs edit)
    Going Through The Motions (Silence Of The Lambs edit)
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Friday, July 23, 2010
    It rises from Its bed.
    It walks to the door.
    It opens the door.
    It walks out of the door.
    It closes the door.
    It walks down a hallway.
    At the end of the hallway It turns left into a kitchen.
    It turns the light on in the kitchen.
    It walks to the counter on which the kettle is placed.
    It turns off an electricity socket on the wall.
  • The Things You Couldn’t Take
    The Things You Couldn’t Take
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Thursday, January 22, 2009
    Moving day, and I should have faced this dawn,
    should have swaddled myself in armour and rose,
    a warrior, from this bed where I, damaged,
    lie as a lump beneath white linen,
    a snowdrift, but colder.
    As the home becomes house, I listen:
    it grows bigger – you empty from it -
    and him, my son with the dark eyes,
    bristles in the hallway, all excitement.
  • Poverty Jag
    Poverty Jag
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Wednesday, January 21, 2009
    Thursday. Soft light. The motherlode.
    Sheets of absurdity rain down in
    clumsy torrents –
    silence bends each rule
    of acoustics.
    Hands are too soft
    to pick it up.
    All this sharp grief.
    All this grief that spins
    a virile web through
    the doorways; the hearts;
    beneath foundations –
    a pounding tapestry;
    a garotte for the
    unctuous air.
  • Third Floor Confidential
    Third Floor Confidential
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Tuesday, January 20, 2009
    The schizophrenic is
    pregnant.
    Her belly is full
    of onions, and zombies,
    and wild laughter.
    Soon it will move,
    and dark ideas will
    scuttle on insect legs
    through her mind,
    scratch like small beasts
    in the corners, incessantly;
    grow larger;
    howl for attention.