Gord
2026-09-29 09:11 pm
I saw through the night, My eyes, always on you, Instead of the knife. Wings, wild across the white, Heart still filled with horror, So, on and on - and out of sight. Naivety, leads to fighting, Like pencil leads to writing. Wings, used to fly, Like fathers are to leaving, No need to try.
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Gord
2026-07-14 03:06 am
It's not the language they speak, It's that they speak my language, And they can pass grammar tests, Better than me. So, c'est la vie, To everything... Is that seriously your position? Egyptians watch people from the sea. Until the waves are overwhelming, Like you, they will be, at best, relief. It's not an answer to everything, It's that you walk down the street, Then talk to people. Instead of becoming antisocial, Cherry picking animal bones, And little use for any more. It's not semantic, or colloquial.
Gord
2026-04-18 08:52 pm
Dry fog, fight songs, In my arms, your arms, You talk, then I talk, But that life is long gone, A dry cough on a live vlog. What was it I lost? The right to be what I was? The fight to be what I'm not? From my thoughts: Fuck off. For a list of things you are: Love of fine art, Love of my arms, Love for my mom, Love, from wild mobs, Hate for me deep in your heart. Does that, to you, seem honest? Pleas, bargains, Over t-shirts, waterbottles, Street artist and colleagues, Live in trap houses on Mary St. Does that, to you, seem honest? They sleep under pizza boxes, Drunks, who can never play in concert, What was it I lost again? The right to be what I was? To fight to live and die on a cross, Live life on a cot? Instead, I'll climb the hill to the top.
Gord
2026-04-01 08:32 pm
Your friend talked, You saw my disgust. How could you? It wasn't. I still called you drunk, Two thirds of what I thought, I should have called you hot, I should have told you what I wanted. Instead you talked until I fell apart, I realized your better off, That we could never be in love. Your friend talked, You tried to get her to stop, Honestly I wanted more, But I wasn't being honest. I was trying to be myself... Instead you talked, I realized you are better off, That you would see things I never would, That if I had told you what I wanted, That we could never be in love.
Gord
2026-02-28 07:43 am
Like the sun goes away, You should be by again, Instead, darkness stays, Things change forever. Color is what he liked, Now, it's black and white, Weddings, wallflower, Cocaine and dice. Like a sun, centre sky, No exit stage right, Eyes upon you, finally, No escape from caskets, Or tricks to mezmerize. I wish I could tell you why, Like the eyes upon you, I can't sell you a lie, like, Everything is wonderful. You lost your mind with narcotics, You lost your magic along with it, Like the sun goes away, You should be back again, Instead, darkness stays. Color, is what you liked, Now, it's black or white, No weddings, wallflower, Mostly cocaine and dice.
Gord
2026-02-20 02:14 pm
Belly distend, body groan, Inside you hope for inner growth, Instead, you'll fight in civil court. Doesn't it get a little old? Every night you lock the door, Enter your room, turn the radio on... It's what you know, and fear. Doesn't it seem a little odd? Where was he when you need him? Doesn't it get a little old? Every night, a knock at the door, Enter your room, turn the radio on.... So where was he by morning? Gone? You lock the door, a window breaks, Your father comes, fixes everything, Doesn't it get a little old? Doesn't it seem a little odd? Inside, you hope for inner growth, Instead, you'll fight in civil court.
Gord
2025-12-08 08:38 pm
Disdain of flesh, Decay of sense, Working late, again, It remains unsaid. Burning bayonets, Arms, upon a chair, I, long to embrace myself, Instead of remain unsaid, Undead and lifeless.
Gord
2023-05-31 09:02 am
Compare deceased, compare diseases, Civil registry, never ending dreams. Quiet, discontented tree: Questions vex me silent, Why do we drink of selfish need? Why do we eat to reddish green? Why do they scream your scaring me, While I achieve new levels of self deceit? It responds, about roots and leaves, Tools and people, fools and fees. It's beyond me to understand. Again indeed. Only man writes with a pen, Ire infinite, to the final syllable. A point most misunderstand: Life is not miracles, appearances, Science fiction or analyzing images, It's mostly the wheres and whens, Indeeds said again, friends you miss. Like all the pyramids get built, You'll find they went brick by brick. Like kids, chimes in the wind, Ideally they play without worry, Not re-examine life endlessly, Like a firing squad that never hits. Like a chime without another, It takes only one to be lonely, Two people to live. Hair recedes, favour leaves, Ferris wheels and screams, Once again, the tree speaks, This time about seasons, Blues and greens, Views and seeds, You open your own mouth, freely, Someone else's dreams. Again indeed. A mirror responds vaguely, Instead of self reflection sees, Things that terrify, Even when they close their eyes and they sleep. One could compare their life to a sheep, Sheppard, or favoured elite. What one eats someone decides, Where one sleeps someone else decides, Who one sees is limited, they cry. But they compare to a bar too high. Then with their time, belies, nevers, freezes. Feelings of timidness, cheapness, lies, Triangles you hope to avoid thinking, Inevitably though you need drink. You need some chips, think about it. You need a horse to ride to the store, Because you're lazy as shit. So I guess just hope for the best, But also go for it. Again, Indeed.
Gord
2022-11-09 03:20 am
An explosion, two million boats, Less than a third vote. 'oh, the problem, is they lack common goals" The rest boast, but it was about the same before. The belly distends, the body groans, Inside you would hope the innards grow, But they don't. Their parents croak, clear the bones, Inside you would hope for inner growth, But instead they find more civil wars, Complain of the guy next door, To the grocery store, government and local media, Instead of getting to know.
Gord
2022-08-03 10:55 pm
Flag, Grab a torch, same hand, Have fun with your vote: Another hand a sword, It opens a can of corn. Fake hammer throw, Judges, like rabbits, Run back to their holes. Rather than face the day, The code and its ghosts. Instead, They make jokes, they make shows, They make notes, that, of course, Exclude their track record of control. That dirt road, saddled by war, Addled by the hammers thrown, Fools who took no land unknown, Who speak a language encoded, Take advantage of the locals. What is wealth, cash of course? But it's also a canvass of bone, Grass in the mouth of a mud horse.
Gord
2021-11-18 05:16 am
Beauty, all its mystery, Maybe this is all a dream, Belief instinctively, Anger, or misery, Or is it grief within me? Imagine living, symptom-free, Imagine, breathing with relief, Instead coughing and wheezing, Sleeping with vivid dreams, While sleeping in the street. A body smeared with honey, Head to feet, conceit, Declared supreme, Yet not even complete.
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.
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
2020-09-13 09:12 pm
OCDemons An O for the things that I just can’t let go And maybe it’s not even the same things as last week, But there all the same, Ground into my head As though they were the only thoughts that ever mattered Sacred and necessary Though likely invisible or nonexistent just a few days ago And maybe tucked back into the void In just a few more But I suppose it’s better than time spent Wondering What a head-on collision would be like Or how it might feel To put knife through bone It’s dangerous Inside my head sometimes C for the things that I just can’t not do Always look right when crossing a bridge Wear just enough purple Get the numbers right Watch the color patterns Check and check and check again I tell myself I do these things To clear a clouded head Unfortunately Seems to do The opposite instead D for the disorder in my head Brought on by A record on repeat all day, A ridiculous collection of unbreakable rules And the “honestly, what would REALLY happen?” Thoughts that make me feel insane The static buzz inside my brain So I Read it away. Write it away. Breathe it away. (Over)Think. It. Away. To Hell with you demons. Go plague someone else today. Oh...and see you in a little bit. 😉😑
The Sophist
2018-07-27 09:32 am
First there is clay No meaning to a name Strangers will pray Friends prey on their loved ones Some things will change Some feelings can last days Some people say Sometimes it's the rainfall Feet upon the asphalt Back making friends Now who gives their own heart? Hatred instead
Mata
2018-07-15 11:52 am
Go ahead laugh,smirk do or say what you are going to do..i wont and cant stop you..its ok and except that im the fool..you have proved yourself out as the klown..as you thought you were cool,walking around claiming to be down..at the time you knew you bad me fooled,i already had the clue;you never or knew how to be true..but its all good cuz who am i to judge?iam able to at least except tbat i chose to be the fool..and to sit back in the crowd n enjoy the show;rather than wanting to be the ringleader and run the show..while you were in the streets claiming to be down and believing to be on the grind;im the"REAL WORLD" of reality you were doin what a ring leader does...marching around advertizing"the circus is in town"..but its ok in your own unrealistic world to believe in what you see and who you claim to be..so im willing to settle with compromise instead of regret..at least have a lil respect to turn our backs to each other and walk away and live in our own realistic world.. MATILDA MADRID
Verbalised
2018-03-17 05:19 pm
I awake Still tired Drained by hollow ambition Of late I'm uninspired I seek transition Longing to create To be great But instead I wait for tomorrow But it never comes So I follow tradition With a bitter admiration I take comfort sharing Giving, caring For those who just take To let them feel great I carry this weight In my thoughts And my dreams Until I awake
Gord
2017-01-27 12:00 am
The man who no longer revolves, dies forever, And likely has not an iron in hand. The rest who fail and die inside, May just simply live again, Never despondent with desires availed. The man who lives forever, Will likely has his own gold, Iron is for tamed men who grow old, Only eventually to desire again, Living to a disappointment, Skeletons cannot draw the river, Not like when they were avoidant. The young men and the boys, They know little of that facts, Floating through existences, They decide to decide kings later, Their desire is to act now. Electors hired, They enact cowards, Politicians raised powerful, Their children decide values. Perhaps our good times could be spent apart, Instead of lying and backstabbing one another.
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