Gord
2018-04-12 05:46 am
His life a vine, with walls to climb, A sign of reeds, tall as the ceiling. It reads: peace on earth, healing. He easily remarks, needing, tired, With nobodies hiring he sings songs. Shouts at the crowd pink psalms, skimmed, Thinking along, forward and onward; Successor non, foreign legion stalwart. His heart a fire, with walls to climb, Passions fleeting, of paint peeling, With art to desire, of maxims meeting. Of dirt green, or fences mended, Grudge son's, however defenseless.
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The Sophist
2018-03-26 08:06 pm
Sheep are brainwashed fools Blind to truth within the truth Put jade coloured glasses on Undistort the view Saw it in your neighbourhood? Call in to the news Heard your neighbours arguing? Call in for the troops Acting as we're wise and old Ladies on the stoop Nag and nag and nag some more Until all is good Sheep are awful neighbours Imagine if you would To baa and baa and then Be still misunderstood
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.
Gord
2018-01-31 06:56 am
Letters written of nonsense, Inner conflicts, profits, Constantine of outfits, Proud of their holes. Opposite, of continents, Sinkholes, swallowing, Mere weathering problems, All they do is disclose. Imagine a world insolvent, Overpopulated and cold, Where fistfuls of dollars, Are better off. Plastic like the ocean, Poetic hopeful, Scotland. Politically motivated, Heart emplaced. However honest, lies of fate, One defends an idea flagrant, Upon a hill of nothing sacred, Fairness being the continent. Unless one wishes a life content, In a country of many ferrets.
Eric
2018-01-08 03:19 pm
Goodbye old friend, you've served me well; you did your job throughout this hell. Exhausted - now you're lying here; within your eyes I see the fear. My pal is calling...let him go, he'll never learn, he'll never know how dire it is to lose a friend, but I'll stay with you to the end. And if the Hun should come before you've breathed your last in this damn war, then, so be it, I'll die with you, for loyal friends must see it through until the end, when we'll be seen as one - once more on England's green and pleasant land for which we fought, to plough God's fields as we were taught. I hear the bullets whizzing by, the screaming men, the battle cry. You lift your head to shield my heart, and bullets tear your neck apart. I hold you tight with bloodied hand, I try to rise, I try to stand. I feel the shrapnel from the shell-- Goodbye old friend, you served me well.
Gord
2017-12-27 10:00 am
Amateur poet, ultimate, Heroic, stoic, slowest, Everything rhymed about, Hopeful of inchoate. Chum of the lake, think, Who is the wake for? Dead men living pale, or those living, Mouth agape, ailing, Flailing their limbs, Scene akimbo, Fare unanswered, Meter fake. So they take what is mine, Question pondered, What is life plastered? Humanity mastered, Time honored, or is it a last laugh, before dying afterward? Poets lie yet find alms, Measured footsteps bald, Words lifelessly clever, Heart hard to hold palm; Old arms to old arms, Adages stolen loved upon; Bard holy, arch golden, To carve lonely, Barns beholden, Nothing nobel. Par normally, like poultry, To starve colts. Ark art, Swan gone, Dark garb, lark fawned, Opposite of his mind, He finds laughter, Chapter after chatter, Chancellor gone; He defines pattern, An afterthought.
Gord
2017-12-25 08:13 am
Amateur poet, ultimate, Heroic, stoic, slowest, Everything rhymed about, Hopeful of inchoate. Chum of the lake, think, Who is the wake for? Dead men living pale, or those living, Mouth agape, ailing, Flailing their limbs, Scene akimbo, Fare unanswered, Meter fake. So they take what is mine, Question pondered, What is life plastered? Humanity mastered, Time honored, or is it a last laugh, before dying afterward? Poets lie yet find alms, Measured footsteps bald, Words lifelessly clever, Heart hard to hold palm; Old arms to old arms, Adages stolen loved upon; Bard holy, arch golden, To carve lonely, Barns beholden, Nothing nobel. Par normally, like poultry, To starve colts, Farms wholesome.
Mary Steffen
2017-12-23 11:52 pm
Winter dreams Santa Claus Through the night Jumping joy Happy days Love in air Forever In our hearts Throughout life Never ends Love goes on
Gord
2017-12-20 09:55 am
I write without relent, Lawn ashen, body bent, Fawn bashful, words pawn. I write without intent, Politic truth, not respect. Words choleric, forested, Another blonde moribund; Floral, me'er ornament, Porcelain and floor clung; Flies flying and food dung, No chloroseptic rush. Sitting alone, he claims, Throne vacant, citrus grown, Plain clothes, no Satan. He makes popular statements, Pandering blatant, but fun, Worldview of a drunk taken. Full of heart, Dull as garbage, trumped, Meandering serious, Meaning wallet plump, Friends gone, blunt, Ledge found, jump.
Gord
2017-12-15 08:34 am
A doctor says to me: There is no healing, Tells me just to be, No wishful thinking. His heart a bean, Feelings consumed. Living amused, Is no good for me, Misunderstood by you. Forever twilight, A gradient life, Polite goodbyes. He lives like limes, His hands a vine, No tree remarked, With loved ones dying.
Gord
2017-12-12 10:05 am
Love forward, for house stewards. His love a bundle, pursuant of son. Fewer brewers at concourse, concord, Honor converse, longer yet somber, An absurd worth, admired, pondered, Fury for her, imperfection sure. Heart curious, head immature, She writes love of commerce, Hearth huge and wallet wanton. Charter martyr departs hearted, Leaves deceived, nature naive, Silent knitting, fixing, sitting, Speaking only of a life weaved.
wawangida
2017-10-24 12:16 am
Time bound fragile clay Destiny's soldier Stabbing the icy heart of time Though you may reign triumphantly Ashes is your end
Gord
2017-10-19 08:56 am
Pond upon oceans, A death of water, Little men upon thrones, Their hearts of flower, My life but a tome, My life a tower; Stairs to climb, With life inactive; Above the clouds, Time spent sunburnt, Cowards; My designs immaculate, Eating flies as flax, Confusing images, In place of facts. Again the future lost, Pipes accost the ground, The ice storm comes; Some go into town, Some stay lost, Together same, Both die apart.
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.
The Sophist
2017-09-25 12:25 pm
Today I heard a triad In a weird way it made me feel sad Can't wait to get home Get my guitar Get the chance To Try that Yesterday I heard a melody In an old way it still feels new to me Can't wait to get out Get dancing Get clarity Inpsiring Last week I saw an act of kindness In a good way it made me feel that My kind is not alone Not so far Not fraud in fact To try that Tomorrow I'll write a poem About all the ways I've felt this week My blindness in a tome Day blindness Moon blindness Blindness off the dome Right now there's nothing to look at Immersed in machinery Not a technocrat Not a plutocrat Stopped avoiding art To try that triad But make it flat
Gord
2017-09-12 09:42 am
Swords filed down to soot, Roses thrown at their feet. No proof of their misdeeds, Long Forgoing unlikely heroes, The Earth rolls on it's shape, Divides by zero then escapes, Sequence complete, Even if it seems short of an era. Could I program a world so full hate? Only more divisive, with my heart to feint on; Should I find a brush to paint, I could not, Nor would I make clay forms, And force them to mate, As Satan does. Who more lovingly than I, Is timed less? I would laugh at the sheer thought. Cakes of dirt and mud pies, Fed to a princess, For the world outside she knows not of, What a austere world to take from.
Gord
2017-08-16 01:55 pm
Umpire of God useless, Demanding more strikes, Life swung precarious, Batter belies himself, Bent to Gods of strife; Fate for ball carriers, Forever them sodomites, Snipped their genitals, Cum on their fingers, Not dick in their minds; Not men, Nor fire they are, Born of stone, tower guard, Born of the mud, wallow on, Born of the sun? Pearls, Diamonds and Harps. Radar dishes begin, fill the sky, And forever destroy our heart. Son of the earth, Yet nothing but sky he remarked.
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