Gord

2026-09-08 01:27 pm

As is with religions,
There are no victims,
Or so I'm saying.

And I bare forgiveness,
For I love you more,
With every wrinkle,
As is with wisdom.

Gord

2026-09-04 07:20 pm

Forgive me,
For being weak at times,
For really having fights,
I know, it's not right,
But I'll own what is mine.

Believe me, 
Scream, cry,
But stay entwined,
We still have time.

And I'll believe in you,
Like god believes in christ.

Gord

2026-08-03 07:29 pm

Why is it, that time created distance, 
And why from persistence, this time,
Came great suffering, and pestilence.

Given tongue, and often structure,
In return: local, but of foreign work, 
Until laughter, then giving up.

Why is it, that you have so much?
And share little with anyone else.
Why is it, that you hate so much?
And have love for only yourself...

Given love, and given supper,
And little of anything else.
Envy itself, has deadly effect,
And little of anything else.

Gord

2026-07-05 12:15 pm

Softly shifting silver sands,
Solid to liquid,
Liquid to gas.

I just felt, if you never left,
None of that comes to pass.

Cocky glibness, middle class,
Christmas to windows,
Windows to glass.

I just sat aside, never asking,
What do you say to the fairer sex?

You're everything I've ever dreamt?
Well, I find there's just none left, 
Nothing but adventures, 
And acceptance tests. 

Coffee drinking, ginger snaps,
Trauma to forgiveness,
Forgiveness until collapse.

You're everything I ever dreamt,
I'd do anything to bring you back,
Like an eye that stares ahead,
Tears roll down my face again.

I'll never be the things I lack,
I'll never change, skin like that,
Only grows with age.

Salt to water,
Water evaporates.

Gord

2026-06-04 10:00 pm

Little bug:
Little pigs, Little frogs, Little slug.
Finger work beneath civil tongue:
Fish supper, friction with drums.

A little brother, too big for hugs,
A little bit of dust, bits of rough:
Personality, but's and cynical plots,
Digital work beneath a given tongue.

What would you say to me honestly?
That you wish I was crushed?
Well, I'm not.
I lived never thinking of you much.

Where is your response?
Little love for little bugs, 
Simple things, inner calm, bigger cause...
More concern for grudges,
Than writing another song.

Give a little time, you give it up...
A little pain, a little age, little fun:
Singing about doors that are shut,
Invisible cuts that the makeup covers,
For a while, until the stage goes dark,
Then begins your performance,
Entertainment to little bugs.

Gord

2026-03-07 03:51 pm

Where are all your pyramids?

You stole my stones...
Took my providence.

What is a question for?
Social dominance?

Well stole upon my virulent,
Conspiratorial penis and balls.

So, stay as born, fisherman,
Given, you play with your rod. 

No limericks or inwardness:
Gibberish over impulses,
Sickness, et al.

Toward the emptiness I fall, 
Spheres and phallic symbols,
Cheers, and then applause.

Gord

2024-08-27 04:25 am

I'm sorry, I fell asleep, 
Black, eyes see, I feel... 
Yellow, what can ever be?
Like a child, I dream... of,
Yellow, saffron, cream,
White outside yellow. 

Like an egg, given life,
Tell us, what should it be?
Just like rust on the beach,
Yellow, contained in white?
I'm sorry, I fell asleep...

What of the darkness?
You still sleep at night,
Despite what you speak,
Yellow, what is it you see?

I'm sorry, I fell asleep.
I cannot be there, I feel...
Yolk: mustard, garlic,
Like darkness inside me,
White on the outside,
Bizarre shades, and yellow.

Lynn

2023-01-07 08:58 pm

Octopus language—
a liquid whisper to fish.
You would never know.

Artificial dream
made for a lonely machine.
Logical blunder.

These glimpses of you,
neither invention nor collapse
would be more lonely.

Condense your rival knight
into red and a warning
under your shoes.

Plasma forms a line.
Boundary between light and
liquid given up.

Turquoise milk
mixing into my porridge.
Daily occurrence.

Gord

2020-07-29 05:43 am

Storm the earth, Storm the sea,
Arrive in myth, the people be,
Not given bronze, not given sons,
Living gaunt outside a lodge.
Singing swans, singing songs,
Zinc, gold, silver, iron, copper,
In hefty sums, no bitten tongue.

Dearth they arrive, murder at night,
No allies, wyrms or fires to fight.
Death they provide.

Gord

2020-07-02 03:19 am

Pier as far as the eyes can peer,
Towers tall, the flowers gone,
Pensioner, is this not your fear?
Who appears, speaks of appearances,
When death is near and cowers all?

Seer, as far as I can see,
Nobody writes, nobody listens,
Nobody lies but nobody stares.
Nobody rights are given to liars,
Who speak of bridges nobody cares.

Who appears, speaks of appearances,
When bridges fall to the pier?

Who maintains the system?
I can see names of victims,
Name of my liquor,
But no list of gunmen,
Lenders or kinsmen.
If one day they name a killer,
Who appears, speaks of appearances,
Circles all around the seriousness.
Waits for nobodies to leave,
Then steals, Who babbles incoherent?

Gord

2019-09-20 07:22 am

Pence felt worth, more than all,
Dirty and small, spending curt.
Maybe to shout,
Maybe to doubt,
Chasing two shorelines,
Given scourge or knout.
Schoolyards abound,
Fence built high, to the clouds.
Fools abundance, mountain climb,
Peace can be free, expensive as dying,
Riddled with fear unknown, prying,
Heavy to swing for liars.
Fences can be expressive as lessons,
Lesions on the back of your neck,
Illegal, yet a photography session,
Perhaps I soon like Kim can attest.

Gord

2019-08-23 07:46 am

Images of text, a thousand words,
Thousands absurd then bridges bend.
Curt be my pen atwixt their cloud,
Fountain of their dreams allowed,
Pounding coins, their dreams aloud
Outbursts blurred of Hitchen's hand.
Dreaming mountains with giant crowds,
Client crows, their giant demands.

Imagine a test, a thousand words,
Testing absurdly on a given text,
What word comes second, or last.

A mass, a mast, a caste aghast,
Rest snugly where water amassed.

missa

2019-05-04 09:36 pm

-Do you see this empathy i have?
The sincerity i have?
The forgiveness i have chosen to give?
For not just my mistakes but yours,
i'm willing to forgive. 
Sorry, that was a lie! I can't forgive. 

Not for 'how not bothered you are of how little you have seen. 
But maybe the fact you have never wanted to even get to know me. 
Never really knowed me. 

I suppose i can never understand/get over just how quickly you disowned me. 
Maby you could at least help me see your point of view, 
whatever it may be-

It will help me to at least get a glimpse of me-e

Gord

2018-09-27 01:23 pm

Climate I math notes climbing,
Natural knowledge,
Eye Rhyming.
Pass on the peyote piping,
Thy patina, your knife finding,
Kite blue, alike my soul, 
Life in tense, dividing, in two.

A walk in reverse, after marathoning,
Designer clothes given patronizing,
Living Patron, sizing larger.
I'll talk and traverse,
Pasture paragon lifestyle for,
Pluto could not write himself,
Aristocracies would sign lords,
Soule, crabs and seacreatures,
Arrange, kill. 
Labeling features,
Toward no end, untoward wool,
Frayed at the end,
Dog no match for wolf.
Tres bien.

Gord

2017-09-28 04:57 am

Feelings in her heart,
Apathy of mind lost,
The world desired,
Earth forgotten,
Therefore pursuant of swine,
Love begotten.

Reading of foreigners,
Yet her poetry declines,
Like Vines, Fine Wines,
Rhyme lines her mind;
Obsessive of forewords
 and forever afters;
Useless goodbyes,
Given in poor wording.

Forgotten is passion,
For words and order,
A husband mastered,
A wife only borrowed.

Gord

2017-04-27 12:00 am

Foreign art plastered,
Partizan attitude mastered,
World politics blunt,
Our pastor burnt,
Along with his frontage.

Decorum not fantastic,
Sheets plastic, drapes plastic.
Their hearts taken, affront,
Given pacemaker suns,
Along with fromage,
Some 21st century love.

Gord

2017-03-03 12:00 am

Partridges fly,
Above the land they admire,
Moon rocks to the scientist,
Fertility given to a goddess,
Pointless admiration.
So begins desire,
The bird flies higher,
Further from the ground,
Wherefore no dreams to mire.
Society jobs to a miser.
My job is too dry,
Hands cracking, without water.
Voice loud enough to deny it.

The Sophist

2016-10-26 12:00 am

Waiting for a miracle to save us, 
And we have saviors,
But they're controlled by secret agents, 
Waiting for a miracle to save them, 
And they have saviors,
But they're controlled by secret agents. 

His father wrote his epitaph, I know. 
He captured the hearts of the young and the old.
God given talent given highest awards.
He was yesterday's child,
So the day he got old...

Like midnight's stars he disappeared.
Fagments of influence rapidly spread,
Directing the youth of the afteryears,
But the man wasn't dead,
I can prove it,
'cuz dead mean don't sweat.