Gord
2026-09-01 06:24 pm
I was there in the hospital where you gave up, Was it impossible? Like you said so? Did happiness come? I think something awful of what you've become, Was it nice in the calm, like you said so? Did you find love? Did you find anyone? I wish I had died, both then and all along, Like a knife and be less subtle, Push inside, until bone and break it off.
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Gord
2026-08-04 12:56 pm
I don't mind the double standard, It doesn't matter. Like of earth, and other planets. Are alternative angles an answer? When upon a bed, And under blankets, Otherwise, it doesn't matter. It's like the farther one travels, You become more of an animal, Like foxes, wolves or badgers, Eating bugs if you have to. Migration, and other issues, I don't mind the double standards, It's more about comedy to a fool. Like sex is to faggots.
Gord
2025-08-20 06:12 am
When does Autumn become most cold? Just before it leaves, something more on the way to change the world. I am the minotaur, Harvester of stone, Holder of an axe of war, Pauperism, growth. Problems in the code, Problems with the board, It matters not, I guard the door.
Gord
2025-02-04 06:35 am
Words of caution, Gourds in autumn, Fears be gone in her, A plate summed full. Squash in the soil, Seeds in the garden, Water on her arms, Written over blood. Gambling problem, Lust, as if scarlet, Just as I write it: Clubs, spades, diamonds. A heart divines it, A world divides it, Time becomes distance, A bicycle by the bridge.
Gord
2024-09-15 07:38 pm
In the courtroom: Pigs, blood, tofu, Minotaurs loose, Conflicts toward, Cold, gloom. Hospital wards, Admittance form, Logical words. What becomes more true in times of war? Ghosts, opinions that form a search for truth. Indigo, blue. Stitch up your wounds, harlot. Soon, the riddles will be about you. The courtroom, The boardroom, Cicero, choose: Which is for you? Indigo or blue, One million or two. What becomes true in times of war? Certainly not you, trials or support.
Gord
2024-07-29 10:13 pm
Vermilions, Amber, Vermin, red, in anger. Verily, yellow dances, Keep dancing, he says, And slaps her. Verify me a fact, liar, Orange becomes vermillion, So what will yellow become, Tallow or cum on the skin? Life, wears thin, and dives. I think upon green, yellow presides, Beyond the goddess worship, lies, Anger. I think a lot about their side. I think they lie about their sides, I think a little red should suffice. Vermillion, yellow, a bit of pride, Call me coward, feed those ideas, A million bits, red and canvas mine.
Gord
2024-07-09 12:26 am
View from Toronto, others, also. Best seen, like without follow. A shadow, born of a shadow, How can it fathom less hollow, Habitual patterns in a modern world? Coming tomorrow is gun conflicts, Cult worship, communion with objects. The coward screams like an apostle. Future prospects, like luminous stars, Lay dinosaur bones in scarlet houses. Bloodshed so widespread and obvious, Like polearms in the side of your horse, Desire and goals become simply doors, Where do theirs divide from yours? Like ingots, in fire or war.
Gord
2023-02-10 10:48 am
Shapeshifter, sex symbol, Lord, Like you imagine your next form, Aging wrinkles, Alone, Civil from war. Great mirror, What's a beach without a shore? Those who change an elaborate hoax. They imagine thinking, then approach, Like ideas read from novels and books. Plane ticket, images, visions, more, Imagining yourself at home, Opium, an anonymous quote, You take the drugs you owe for, In your veins, up the nose. Fictional, your world becomes, Because fiction is all you know. Shapeshifter, pegs in your holes, You imagine delightful chorus, Even though you are alone. Violent, calloused and lonesome. Without war to be calloused from. Great Mirror, Piper, Peter, Could you play me a tune Or at least leave me alone? I favour the fear I know fighting. Not the thunder and lightning, You bring when you're home.
Gord
2021-12-22 01:52 am
Mollasses, grasses, So slowly time passes, Until masses stand up. Hunt and hunt and hunt, Fuck and fuck and fuck. Until nothing is left, Eating worms, grubs and bugs. Sovereign and one language, But towers are what we love, Mountains of Earth, plum Counter-part to flowers, Darkness, we become.
psyaviah
2021-12-07 09:00 am
We are stories Ideas Tales of us were told Long before we were We are stories Ghosts wandering 'n minds Tales of us passed on Long after we were We are alone Together In sadness, in joy: we become human We don't exist We're nothingness Unless we share Unless we're two or more
Gord
2021-09-22 03:23 am
Feet scurry for cheese, Hurry before reading, No need for heeding, Just release then meaning. A fella down, dread, and doubt, I prefer to be the second mouse, Rather than become death, I prefer to see it out.
Gord
2021-09-16 08:48 am
Truffle, my gems are gone. All bets are off. Swan, water, ruffles, Trouble underwater, The fish will balk: Death march talk becomes bubbles, They beg off, shot in the stomach, Test nothing, swim to the bottom. Lord, I spoke to God. Soft, I sodded off. Man, laughter, shuffle, Trouble in the park, People just forgotten: Talking until nonsense, Their tussles long, Of consequence and knowledge, Then replaced by logs.
Gord
2021-07-13 01:33 am
Speaking kin and fawns, King et al; Kings that become pawns, Lose their powers, Were they a King at all? Kicking the twigs, rocks, Speaking ill or not, Letters and flowers, Red like the Pinot Noir.
Gord
2021-07-02 12:41 pm
Stay? but why here, Even statements to fear, So take my leave. Same ideals, Replaced by grief, Pale, like me Frail, like me, Failing, like me, A hasty viking, Eyes stained like tea. What becomes of me, Broadcast of the screen, Shopping once a week? A simple machine: Dirty, Dirt in its seams, Dirt in its dreams, First on the beach, Understanding the piece.
Iron Bay
2021-06-06 12:38 pm
Bring me your all Paint me a picture of your dreams Nourish me with a meal made to awaken my tongue from a tasteless slumber Play me a song so pure and accurate Sway with me in your arms Your touch synchronizes my heart with the rhythm of nature Bring me your all Read me stories that once showed you the way Light my path and enlighten my mind Rearrange my understanding of importance Scold my naivete The power of your emotions ignite my sense of wonder Bring me your all Show me your pain with the intensity of your voice Present me with conflict Show me your anger, Show me your disappointment Give me your broken heart Strike me with fists of passion. Angry passion. I will not cower behind my masculinity. I welcome your release. Your pain will become ours and together we will Stand. Bring me your all Show me your scars where you learned to bleed. Rather, where you learned your resilience. Rise up and fight for whats right Teach me my voice makes a sound. BRING ME YOUR ALL
Igor Goldkind
2021-02-12 12:44 am
LIVING WITH UNCERTAINTY What if we thought of this uncertainty as Jews consider our Sabbath— As a sacred space in time? Stop traveling. Stop buying and selling. Stop working. Give up trying to make the world better than it is. Instead, sing. Dance. Pray. Write songs and recite poetry. Paint the pictures from your eyes. Walk amongst the leaves and the stars. Touch only those to whom you have committed your life. Sit down. And when your mind and body have become still, Reach out with your heart. Know that we are connected in ways that are both terrifying and beautiful. No one can deny that now. Do not reach out with your hands. Reach out with your heart. Reach out with your words. Reach out with all the curled tendrils Of compassion that connect us invisibly, To where we cannot touch each other.
Lynn
2021-01-13 05:29 pm
holding the box between two fingers so it does not fall the hand is not pandora’s; she has been dead for centuries inside the lid, an amateur’s attempt at a cumulonimbus the sky behind them greener than the clouds before a tornado the clouds themselves whiter than the dust after what will become of the box? will it house bangles and bracelets and small forgotten memories? will the hinges rust and the sky become separated from the ground? will it ever find its way home?
Innasense
2020-10-10 09:54 pm
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
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