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  • The Hands Of All Gods
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Friday, December 31, 2010
    The hands of all gods are wringing:
    they have been emptied of love.
    Misunderstood, it has been laid down.
    We must gather it to ourselves.
    We must turn to others and surrender
    all love we guarded from the world.
    The great worship is each for the other;
    the great praise is one circle
    of given,
    and received.
  • Merry Christmas: Give Poetry
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Friday, December 24, 2010

    I want to give a warm season’s greetings to all who read this blog, and to all who may find themselves on this page accidently. I wish for you the best that the season has to give in terms of laughter and communion with your loved ones, and that your time together may be warm and enriched with mutual care and respect. If there isn’t much to give in terms of material possessions, remember that blessings are not those things that sustain us in a transient manner, and that possessions and belongings will perish or erode in some way – loving experience is the one gift that people will always relish opening, and lasts as long as living memory allows.

    Say hi to your loved ones for me, and from me or on behalf of poetry itself, read them a poem that you love, write one of your own to give them as a special gift, or download one of the poems from this site and pass it on (the pdf download link is beneath every poem on this site). Poetry is a wonderful gift, and you will not only be giving to a loved one, but you will also be giving back to poetry. Poetry could always do with that little bit extra in terms of circulation.

    Thank you for reading through 2010, and I hope to see you throughout the holiday season and into the new year, to share more of this wonderful journey called life with you. Many blessings!

  • Abecedarius
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Friday, December 10, 2010

    This is an abecedarian verse, written for this site’s poetry and literature glossary. The overarching premise of this type of poem is that (beginning with “A”) each new word in the poem starts with a successive letter in the alphabet. (A, B, C, D, E, etc.)

    As Becky cried, darkness eventually fell,
    granting her invisibility.
    Joy keeps losing momentum:
    negative, obscenely probing questions;
    repeatedly stating that understanding
    vanity was xenophobia,
    yielded zero.
  • Abhanga
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Friday, December 10, 2010
    The chimps ate the garden!
    They ate the flowers up.
    Lily and buttercup.
    Oh, yes they did.
    The chimps stole the music.
    They danced into the night.
    The neighbours are uptight.
    Oh, yes they are.
    The chimps all have sore guts.
    They drank the apple punch.
    They drank it all at lunch.
    That’ll teach ‘em.
  • 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?..
  • Sexpunk Robot (Everything Is Autotelic)
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Sunday, October 17, 2010
    Before we marry you should know
    there is a torrent of my freak digital penis
    that is being shared on the interwebs. From peer to peer
    this 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…
  • And In The Practice Of Love
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Saturday, October 16, 2010
    And in the practice of love
    we find that we are walking on tightropes;
    and in the practice of love
    we are trying to upset the balance of the other.
    How much better it is
    to dance together in the open field;
    how much better it is
    to laugh together beneath the sun.
  • We Carry Together
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Thursday, October 14, 2010
    This night haired girl from the north island
    has thighs as warm as her people’s history.
    To join with her in a song of bodies
    is 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.
  • 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
  • The Deficit (Part One)
    by
    Jé Maverick
    Tuesday, October 12, 2010
    Beyond 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 circles
    in the clean dirt -
    sketching options; mining for
    The One Shrewd Answer.
    Slim pickings.
    More of the same cycle. More of
    the same cycle. More
    of the same cycle.
    We are consigned to feast on scars
    and brutal histories,
    growing fat; learning nothing.