Tag Archives: John Maurer

Undressed

By John Maurer

One must be comfortable in their skin

Before they peel it with scalpel

Before they lay it in front of the fire

Before they can stop calling it a mask

But this is blush and mascara on a ghost

And I am a raft on a river you can’t step in twice

Since those who know everything have told me 

There is nothing to know

That everything cancels each other out

That knowledge is a drunken game of tennis

Intelligence is the white woven net

This is what we stumble over

Yes, because we are drunk

Also, because we never stop playing

And a game that never ends

Is a game that can never be won


John Maurer is a 26-year-old writer from Pittsburgh that writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, but his work always strives to portray that what is true is beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than fifty others. @JohnPMaurer (johnpmaurer.com)

Silver Pillows

By John Maurer

Painters paint the paintings that they should paint 

Because they are the paintings that they do paint

The worth of the doing is found in the doing

Transcendence is shovel-gripped, cerebral labor

My bones sharpen through the cloth of my bleeding visage

If you are a vault, you must also be the key

What is sagacious gifted bullion without 

Its scriptural prodigious tailwind 

Eating words with an open mouth

The crumbs of preciously bled stones fall to my lap

This is what I sing to you and you don’t hear

This is what you want me to sing, and I am too shy to

British scholars would say we don’t share the table

Cloudy guru would say you sit at his table

Pull out your chair when you approach plated lawn trimmings

The lawn being your responsibility to water

Do not shun the thornier blades

Growing an apology is not pleasant horticulture

Her smile this is a rooting of veins

Drink it in and the ice cubes of her with it

My bones are certainly metallic with their screws

But I keep chewing on all more expanded than I


John Maurer is a 26-year-old writer from Pittsburgh that writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, but his work always strives to portray that what is true is beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than fifty others. @JohnPMaurer (johnpmaurer.com)