Gord
2017-04-06 12:00 am
All of our dreams, All of the seen, Streets of gold, Earth paved silent. Fervor of the dying, Nobody truly leaving, Merely living their lives. No victims of violence, No solace from desire. Further pushed from an entirety, Exquisiteness of machined life. Pursuant of milled tile, Years of desire, without fight, The boxer stands ready, Hands firmly at his side, Resolve still unbroken, Acceptance in his mind.
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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.
Gord
2017-02-14 12:00 am
Handsome men play Diablo Two. Getting keys forever free, Looks alone topple trees, Fire will forever consume. Millennials play Diablo Three, Pay to play, stay for free, Books alone could stand true, Everything better, Diablo Two.
Gord
2016-06-30 12:00 am
Ire of the God that creates, Pasty hands, adoration of the fans, And regret of a moving caste, Published spine of too much paste, Toiled upon by uninitiated masons. Cannot we end this race? Show tolerance instead of patience? Forget the genocide of ideals, Lest we deal in inaccurate traits.
Gord
2016-04-15 12:00 am
Oil as he lays his hands, Welts as he removes, He understands. Feeding the toll booth to greet the man as he arrives naked, Telling him to hide his shamefulness. He wins.
Novina Alfe
2016-02-16 12:00 am
Is it just enough to look at the roughness of your hands do you ponder over the texture complexion and remember how each scar got there do you take the time to examine who they loved and who they hate WHO tears they wiped away and on whose face I know you look at them often do you use them just to pray or used them to play with your prey amen do you use them to take pictures of the Sun when it rise do you use them to heal hearts or just leave marks on degraded body parts your hands your hands do you keep them clean have they shed innocent blood have they robbed the lowly one have they said hello thank you and please is the look of toughness just a disguise a way to fool people who sympathize with their eyes your hands your hands do you use them just to eat do they feed the needy do they try to make peace do you praise them for a job well done do you use them to raise a good son surely you let them rest after you just bust one and by bust I mean nutt and by nutt I mean there's nothing new under the Sun so how do you plead guilty or innocent Mr mirror man do you have killing or healing hands
Gord
2015-10-06 12:00 am
As tradgic as future sound. Ground eventually hit tarmac, Inverse of the ultimate, Cut sleep, Cut meat, Cover rent, paid in freedoms. Beyond bent metal is bent men, Tragically beyond them the concept. One has freedom in their hands.
Gord
2015-04-03 12:00 am
Voice 3: Forgive and forget, Tear and set, Vie and vet, Live and let. Yet, This I forgive? I will not set my own bones, I wish to ride stone to Set. Ptolemaic as it may be, I pray for death. Voice 2: I pray for rain, Simple as it may seem, It delays the contrary, It is all it should be. Love as loved same, Wish not for pain, Wish for the gods to delay it. Fish not for enemy graves, Fish for a handshake sentient. Voice 3: The bastard dies regardless. King, czar of inaction ardent.
Gord
2015-01-19 12:00 am
Dancers one day may not dance, Pain upon contact with lands, Success but a dumb chance. Impressed with numb hands, Stumps ambling upon a man, Attempting to please the master, Intent cast upon the sand. The glass woman shatters.
The Paraffin One
2014-10-31 12:00 am
Among data statisticians some are apt. Strikepads merely look for matches. Pyromancers fire from hands, Magic tricks demand ignorance, Turns education into pittance. Hydromancy of the dire lands, Outright drought of pious demands. Stale games played, Crows become Kae, Men become gods when displayed in 4k.
Gord
2014-10-28 12:00 am
A million stars align to begin nothing, Can truly the best begin insulting? A test of love becomes benign offspring. A gentle hand caresses a face softly, Yet with the other casts aside a spade. Cannot the hands of god be unloving? Those wish for pain receive cavalcade, Thinking prayer for cake, not for absolving. Best rhymes touted as insults, Trying to be what they aren't: wise. True rhymes timeless be, no beauty sulks. No man plays games to receive a prize. Cannot you write of greater things? Or still is life consumed with frings?
The Sophist
2014-08-28 12:00 am
A generation mugging for the camera, Ban them, Have all their shows cancelled. Fight their right to put life at a stand still, Investing in communes of every-day shills, Pushing brands in their hands while they're dancing on pills, What have you to say if they're killing themselves? Porcelain dreams putting dirt in the well, Laptops so hot they deplete all their cells, I believe this is better than hell, A step above; Below everything else. I believe we can rise above self. Rather than die just help everyone else; Setting up systems to help after death. I'm reading from cues I'll admit. There's someone else there; He can't write; I can't think; I'm too dumb; He's too quick. A perfect man split. Think, think, I need another answer, Before this beauty becomes burden, An innovation longing for the grammar.
The Sophist
2014-08-08 12:00 am
First I make suggestions, Then I make demands. With my hands I teach you lessons, Beat you with affection, Bleed in my perfection, Military dance. I've never felt so much, Bliss in my life, With my knife cut a grudge, Head off with a touch, Headlong in my hutch. Present for my wife. I call this self expression, Pissing in my pants, With my rant cause indigestion, Racist in intention, Hostile when I'm questioned, A laugh I think is grand, Apostates cut in sections.
The Sophist
2014-07-24 12:00 am
Quick, snap some pictures so my friends can see my band. We don't have any good songs yet so they wouldn't understand without the glamour shots. Quick, take some stammered stills while I hammer shots. This will be the best band to make it the top without a strand of talent in our hands. Don't tell me how to raise my band. I know what music looks like; tactfully unplanned. I write Pizza Hut music like Ariana Grande. I expand, and so disband. My drummer had demands, and ignored my commands. My solo career takes stand. Quick, snap some more glamour shots so my friends can see firsthand depraved aspects of my brand.
Gord
2014-06-16 12:00 am
Those with arsenic bedfellows, exposed. Due to the TV show they gained exposure. Closure to a chapter of chaos and rapture. Posturing to a new hope, classically, In hope that he masters poseur culture²; How dramatically he captures folk, Beards sip wine in¹ balcony of their brother. It's the framework of laughter; Silently I laugh as they excuse them both³, Rendering their will less valid, excusing oath; Adopting a framework of passtimes, Instead of finding, lying among those guilty, Chastising the filthy for soiled torn clothing. Discarding carelessly the heart of an oak, Instead of seeding they favour blind hope; Sans man, would the trees still grow? Forlorn will animals flourish? The hands of man conceive the future, though, Often he lacks the means to nourish. The man will scream of price of grain, though, Often he just lacks the means for omnipotence. Footnotes: 1. latin for 'on the' 2. i.e. hipsters 3. unnecessary explanations given
The Sophist
2014-05-10 12:00 am
Education in some countries is just pure sophism, I decree to stop this, This writ from the wrists of the Sophist, The Prophet of Modern Economics decrees fatwas, I decree a fatwa on stockpiling gross product, A fatwa on Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabanna. I decree a fatwa on the arms race and the misconduct and misappropriated actions committed by the powers meant to help us. Or at least help make shit less like a world of make-shift shiffs chaotic, With less false promises to put less narcotics, In the streets, our food supplies, and antibiotics, All these soup lies make me vomit, World spirit will not die, But it crawls, Dragging body behind hands, Counting months in brief mnemonics.
The Sophist
2014-04-11 12:00 am
You stole my fucking stones, And now I want them back, I'm exhausted for no reason, And I doubt, I doubt your mind's on track. Where are all your pyramids? I've never seen a one, I'm angry all damned season, And I know, I know you're still undone. I'm damn tired for too damn long. Millennia since pyramids, Meager wage preventing treason, And I believe, I believe conspiracies in myriads. To stand back and reflect, Drowsy, Erect, Accomplished, And now we are the Iliads. Worthless, Lacking respect, All shit. New hands smacking old elect, Lousy, Inept, Unaccomplished, Yet the common ride on chariots, Horseless, Acting intact, Shit polished.
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