Lynn
2022-08-17 02:15 am
here i lie (not yet asleep) in my childhood bedroom (my soul to keep) under my childhood quilt (made by my grandmother) holding my childhood cat (could there by any other?) and listening to the cicadas cry over (mourn) the loss of my sister (come morn) when she moves away (just to our college town) into her tiny, adulthood dorm (someday to wear a cap and gown) with her adulthood newfound friends(i thought it was just the four of us) and her adulthood future portends (why couldn't it have always been the four of us?) and listening to her professors drone on (just like the cicada) as she compiles reports, and essays, in jargon (raw data) and- and- and i wonder, will she miss me too?
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Gord
2022-08-15 11:07 pm
Inside its silent eyes lies science, 'Mine', like a child it cries, looks outside. Giant's eyes wide, where is his gigantic pile? His highest pride defiled by tyrants, Find me a guy who wouldn't sigh. Final smiles, like wind can fly by, like time it flies by, like kites. Like a demon the giant tries, Though like giant piles of hay, May blow away in the wind, Giants below may just might, Or unjust, but ultimately he decides.
Gord
2022-06-28 03:36 pm
If a caperberry were a fish, Would it still be in your dish, What food do you eschew, fool? Escargot, bear, fruit and goose? Verily, ask yourself this: Do you know all, what is good? Like bitter roots, Like butter runs, Desire, let me dissolve into the slime, Like a newborn child who never sees the sun.
Gord
2022-06-16 03:37 pm
Calamity, their hearts dictate, Failures, insanity, Hecate. A spell long for them: Dreams, but at a gamblers pace, Meaning, but then actors change, TV panel games as passion fades, Children, teen, then move away. Tickets to the gamelan races, They own the stadium. What do they say, of man, Their fates? They rarely change. One could sew sequins into thy face, Meanwhile speak of other races, All they would see is a cage, Call their fathers, seethe in rage. Stallions of grazing, High yields, truncation, Stars in amazement, What feels like salvation? A path of slave labour, Tired people, consumption, That's how I feel. Everyone has their favorite battlefield, Next to their cross with their name. The spell longest for anyone, Man and his grave.
Gord
2022-06-09 01:45 pm
Vape life, they scream, into the ether inhaled. God's favored child, prophecy in their veins, Perfectly sculpted face, one that time changes, Poignantly, he learns too late: Life is always cloudy when you're vaping, Love doesn't come find you, you chase it, Addicts only love you when you embrace them, Gillette will only love you if you're shaving.
Lynn
2022-03-23 11:45 am
I smear vaseline in the corners of my mouth with a cotton swab to seal the cracks that are carved there from smiling too wide from laughing too loud from speaking my mind. I smudge the nails on my hands with paint, pearlescent and pink to keep from moving to keep from creating to keep from fully living. I confine myself to an apple and egg whites each day to mold by body into what I see in waiting room magazines into what it was when I was a child into something impossible. how futile, it seems, to meter my joy, to suppress the wind. because, when one tries to obstruct what rightfully will pass, it gains strength, channels down one slim canyon, and blows everyone away.
Gord
2021-04-09 03:34 am
If I were a kite, That could fly away, with my only child, Or decide otherwise, I think I would stay.
Gord
2021-04-01 05:58 am
Care, while one died, Hairstyle the brides, Yesses, I am fine, Guesses, lies: Cries like a child. If wishes could wish, What would they provide; A Blameless life, While men drive the spikes, Wishing to see eye to eye. Again like a child.
Gord
2021-02-25 01:46 am
Understand and teach, Understated leaning; Two doves meet, screw, Too political to flee So peruse their feelings. Undo seams, view my being; What ensues is anarchy, Stop to stare at the window, What do you see? A world, without me; Call the children, in at once! It's not what in his heart, It's the way he talks! A speaking hall of mirrors, All it's brilliance lost. Chicken mostly water, Only poultry in part. Justice and peace, Butter and cheese, Elephant man feels, just like bad dreams.
Innasense
2020-10-04 11:21 pm
I miss that girl who wore the moon on a chain, The one who found happiness in solitude and rain, Who wasn’t smothered by the endless need-to-dos, But instead made simple moments her muse. I miss the girl with the honest, unforced smile, The one who could always stay for awhile, Who took endless photos of sunsets and trees, And spent time, just being, under canopies of leaves. I miss the girl always seeking out the new, The one whose blue days were ephemeral and few, Who spent her Sundays, childlike, taking trips to playgrounds, Instead of as an adult, pushing expensive mops around. I miss the girl who wore pink bandanas and braids, Whose undercurrent in life wasn’t always “afraid”, Who wasted away hours in make-believe lands, And felt no guilt with book or controller in hand. And I miss car rides with no destination, Enjoying the lilting song of a clock for pure relaxation, Not feeling enslaved by my own procrastinations, Making last minute plans, happy deviations, I miss yesterdays that happened years ago And I miss the me that I used to know
Innasense
2020-09-25 08:01 am
Throw back the covers on the incessant redundancy of another day. Putting in time for a world we no longer believe in, if ever we truly did. ...Them rose-tinted glasses were long-ago shattered... Our dedication repaid With more stolen hours Coming home with less time To spend with ourselves, Or perhaps those we purposely surround ourselves with, Than we’ll spend talking to ceiling tiles in the dark later on. Droning away the limited hours, The constant pull of a thumb , —Refreshing— Giving our ❤️s away In an opinionated match game Finger-fucking ourselves to sleep Just to say we felt alive Before succumbing to darkness With a see-you-later sayonara Whispered into black, Just like the onyx air pixels we’ll be counting later to lure heavy eyelids back into a much-too-finite slumber ...Or maybe the fluffy white bastards will do the trick Whatever helps you sleep at night... Next day, the inbox the same, Full of spam mail we unsubscribed to ages ago That somehow keeps rearing ugly heads, hydra-like with a pretty new name every time, to keep us believing in the possibility that this particular lovesick prince will be our salvation. DELETE to clear our foggy heads While trying to remember which ones are the liars. The mirage keeps on shifting. Repeat, repeat, World keeps on turning, pulling us along, A child’s toy on a string. But what if, for a moment, We turn away from from the unending axial spins, Sidestep the scythe again, seek out the sunrise... Find the beauty brave souls! Crack open that Earth-shaped geode and search out the wild world within And you know what... Go buy you a new pair of those pretty pink shades
Gord
2020-09-11 05:58 am
Drinking Bowls and pitchers, like smoking coals and timber; If only bones could lift, Our home, save the children, Even buried having all gold and silver, Can an afterlife supply of groves and vineyards? Old and crippled, mouth of the old man dribbles, His eyes meet to eventually form a river; How can he romance with trombones and singers, When he sees and himself, groans and withers, Lays down again amongst the toads and lizards; Eyes hollow and wrinkled, bathrobe, slippers, Windows, the stones that hit them, now coal, Used to build all the roads and bridges.
Lynn
2020-06-07 12:25 am
i see sunday mornings beyond my time. does sunday still exist? i see my history yawning out before me. can corpses exist on both edges? i see my mother. can grief follow a child out of the womb? time, death, and life roll the die to see which takes their turn first. west and north argue over the sun while east and south clutch each other, wailing. god's suicide passes through us concentric circles of chaos look, there is too much blood in the streets!
Gord
2019-10-17 12:16 pm
Asparagus, are you aspirant plus, A spare, or pair of gloves, Au Pair, in a pear of groves, As parallel was, as it will grow, Outrageous, as pairs will go. Beans of green fielded, ate, All the others upon my plate, Clean, of childish readings. Late, all the others, Plate clean of childish things, Like television and admirings.
Gord
2019-02-06 07:32 pm
Sidewalks broken on my boulevard, Auburn hair where I used to walk, Talk, and think of her dialogue. I'd thought greenery would fall, Replaced with concrete barriers, Perhaps I'd talked too freely, Told one too many tale too tall To still be taken seriously. Discreet forever, words picky, Discrete for ever, world sticky, Disformity for even worms licking. Take me away from this place, For even screaming and kicking, Seeing worse, feeling indignant. Not to curse the growing infant, But the plants must go. No handlebars rusted, To bikes comprised of broken dreams, No van full of children hopeful, Just a van to the hospital, please, My heart is about to explode to pieces.
Gord
2019-01-10 07:14 am
Open prose with my dignity, I am simple, Iambs, imagery, Trying to oven toast, With my sympathy lost. I hope for you another loss, Scotch socials, often postures, Costumes oft. Walls filled with posters, To wish you, where I was, As if my feelings forgotten. Open hose of complacency, Teach me your giving ways, Leach lead onto my face, My children's faces, My foodstuff casings. Tell me of today: "I Take not, responsibility. Taste, not digestibility, My style succinct, My rubber hole, Leaves rubber taste."
The Sophist
2018-10-02 07:38 pm
Whatever they do find With whomever I don't mind Though I don't believe They must be alien I lost time Swear I'm not blind I look and see Words in the breeze Tongue-tied They oft-lie Telling tales of talking trees Ghosts will moan Beg and plead Selling rhymes But not this guy Not Today I don't got time Not for pizza Not for pie Not for holding others up Just to drop them when I die Today I built a shelf So they can sit there when I'm gone Thinking about nothing While they listen to my songs
Tina Marie
2018-02-20 03:12 pm
As I looked into my mirror one day, I could see, that a sad little girl was looking at me. I said to this child where is your smile? Through tears she replied, "Can we talk for a while? Your mommy is dead. They took your daddy away. I don't know how you face your mirror everyday?" Besides the lump in my throat, I also felt, a tear trickled down as my heart begin to melt. Sweet Child you see, it is hard to explain, how people can hurt you and cause you such pain. but if you believe that God sent us Jesus his son, you can face everyday and you won't have to run. So smile little girl there is a whole new world of love and happiness and a brand new start, the moment you ask Jesus to come into your heart. Looking deeper yet, into my mirror I could see, that this sad little girl looked exactly like me.
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