Josephine Mayer
Poetry Collection
[ Lover’s Quarrel ]
i don’t know why we had
two grandfather clocks in the living room
always ticking in opposition
filling the room with an ever beating soul
ticking and ticking and ticking
and come the hour,
they would raise hell
loudly singing their songs
in an a cacophonous attempt
to out-do each other
though once one fell silent
the other soon followed
[ The Boy ]
yellow flowers blossom
and as dusk falls
and the air grows cool
they close their petals
in a delicate embrace
the boy strikes a match
to keep the blossoms warm
but in his careless flick
the orange umber
burns the blossom grey
[ And the Ash ]
ash is spread across my bed sheets
it is crusted under my nails
grey embedded in the roots of my hair
stuck in the corners of my eyes
i smell it when i take a breath
i taste it on my tongue
i hope that someday
i will be dusted with the yellow pollen
of roses and jasmine
and all of the ash
will be a haunting memory
[ Blue ]
lighting is what comes to mind
when i look into his eyes
i feel the crackling rage in the dead of night
i see the shards of sound -
storm clouds gathered in his brows,
i see the anger in the lines between them
and hurt in the crease of his lowered lids
dark curls so asked in the storm
washed in an electric blue light
i saw the danger in his face
but his eyes held his soul
and they were brighter than the stars
[ Night ]
i awoke into my dreams
rolling hills of grey velvet clouds
i gazed into the universe beyond,
open black sky that is the rest of reality
the earth is a place of boundaries
set by natural law and further enforced by mankind
one can only contemplate dreams with intention when the moon shines
for the night sky is infinite and welcoming in its gift to shed worldly limitations
one only needs to outreach a finger to lift the diaphanous shroud of reality
and to be gifted with incandescent existence beyond the earthly
shared in the world of the Moon
we are nothing if not gods and maggots
often dipping into the realms of both
almost touching the truth of existence,
just to once more fall into the valley of worldly struggle
a steep climb, one will surely fall
but to reach the light at the precipice of the cliff-
it is welcoming, cool, free of pain
free of everything it is the truest release
and though lonely, the moon will listen
[ Bodhi Tree ]
the buddha sits below the tree
and does not breathe
the wind does it for him
and soon he will blow away
[ Cherries ]
i fight my demons
in the wee hours of the night
plucking cherry stems from my mouth
and listening to the clocks tick
i brush upon scars
long since opened
i remember their great depth
and press upon them
[ Me and The Tree ]
i feel like
the tree in the pot
in the corner of the room
sees me
more than anything else today
my hair has grown long
and falls along the arm of the chair
as i lay sideways,
my body draped across the worn cushion
the grey striped kitten
catches my curls in her claws
i wish i could kiss the music
i squeeze another drop of honey on my finger
and put it between my lips
my eyes are closed
the sun is setting on this day
[ What Will Be ]
the marks on my skin
are imprints of the divine
the universe is not mine and yet i am
beginning to understand its moving
the tides of existence are brutal and everlasting
all my years i thought only to dive through orto swim above the waves
but i realize my place is the moon
and the self is soaked and may never dry
but slowly i raise myself high