Rebecca Cherrington
2016-02-15 12:00 am
His beauty is beyond compare His powerful stance and hypnotic stare! His orange and black exterior Makes all other species look inferior He stalks his prey with majestic grace The concentration on his expressive face! A beautiful animal from head to tail tip But undeniable power in his vice like grip The unofficial King of cats That poachers kill to make fancy mats His beautiful tiger should be left alone Maybe in another time zone! (C) RCherrington
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Gord
2016-02-02 12:00 am
Sun shining, Days simply spend inside, Producing music, mp3 and wav files, Meanwhile I see my Aunt smiles, Her son shining shoes up in a crack house. I'm pretty sure she's looking for my 26 thou, So i ask her in the heat of the night. 'Tell me, How does the world look so bright, through dirty sheets and a black gown?' She replies down.
The Sophist
2016-01-26 12:00 am
Languish and pine farcically. Anguish behind bars I speaked. Sleep, breathe, and piss poetic imagery. Retards stillborn incestuously, then beaten. Death of a feeble pure breed, bleeding. Derelict to think souls leave and vanish. Remembrance lacking evilly. Evanescence; Drowning of a water lily.
Gord
2015-11-27 12:00 am
The pale light through red eyes, Seen together as a final sundry. Comely mirrors reflect their lies, An everlasting world forever lacking, Revenge exacted, love never lasting. Metaphorically, a life placed in plaster.
The Sophist
2015-11-24 12:00 am
Seal sutured my soul; To a body- a home. Come help make me whole. Self life spent alone. Warm bed 'side a warmer throne, Bed heats by its own. Ten times two is four. Ten times lack of effort, All effort is poor. Tax taken from pews, Poor unfortunate two, Camels; too large crew. To dust grind my bones, Tear open by strings my heart, Seal sutured my soul.
Gord
2015-11-11 12:00 am
Sages of the weary art. Common ground beef, Butcher incompetent. Trees at ground level, Full stocks, metal jacket, Content if passion bandaged. Rambling speak, How does the pastor manage, A sermon a week? He lies to his sheep, Tells them of black men.
The Sophist
2015-10-23 12:00 am
A number persists through time Indefinitely Water boils Bones grind Triangle galaxy Amen Blacks die Highest degree Long playing records Elohim chimes The year we killed Jesus Then peaced His age Crucified Collection of East deities Battling basketball teams Meaning of life Hoping that I Get an invite to Club 33
Gord
2015-09-03 12:00 am
He puts on his cap, Regardless of a bat or bases, His face is just like his dads, So they clap. Beyond a pale horse is forever-after. Regardless of initial fervor lacking. Many men look upon a hill backing, Ocean drying the Earth's pasture. So they have.
The Sophist
2015-06-09 12:00 am
I have grown with the band, When I couldn't sleep, When I lack intrinsic wake. When I watch them take the world; I feel I do the same. Symphony for a pilgrim's soul, Divine beyond these finite words, I dream to see them live. That bond will never break. Forget not, Those tunes will never leave my brain, Akashic records play forever; Even in my grave, I'll always love those men; So much it's prolly gay.
Gord
2015-02-18 12:00 am
Voice 6: Voice 5: Impart not, depart impassioned. Skirt not around the main subject, Constrict yourself within contract, Remain slack, what remains lacks. Often gold is only plated brass. Voice 6: Massive injuries cost my crawl, A future gone, Even barring expectation, I could bawl tragic. Should Atlas drop the ball, Just expecting God catch it? I want no tricks nor magic. Voice 4: There shall be no magic, silly tricks or dancing, Only men upon a battlefield. Some dead, some laughing. For if you could take a life, I could take a life. Only without procrastinating. I will bring a squire only, No men will hold you down, Assuming no-one eviscerates me, only father shall go to town, my final wish being a canary.
The Sophist
2015-01-21 12:00 am
You know that you listen, To the heart of my soul, Beating harder and whole. Hole deep darker than coal. I give my volition; To this part of my role. Any home is my prison; When I lack the control.
The Paraffin One
2014-11-04 12:00 am
This following poem addresses my peers: Clearly this year was reminiscent of past, In fact that nothing of value was cheered. Clearly this problem of chance is too vast, To ascertain we need a compass. None is available, so we fail by chance, Not lack of ingenuity to justify trespass, Nor the hypocrisy interacting with fans, No, some invisible god blocks our path; Impossible to pass, without empathy, Untold giants rest among the math, Turtles are shells, medicine is homeopathy. In regards to that, please take care. Next years forecast gives me quite a scare.
The Paraffin One
2014-10-08 12:00 am
Depressed, never to make lasting impression. A denizen of hope to never make the finish. Yet gladly they have made no procession, A gentleman leaves, not extincting the fish; Yet, gladly the simple fish onward, Unrealized is their colony of cowards, No love and no goal worked toward, Fools with lofty goals pulled Earthwards, Nobody cheers as the people awe. Nobody cares as the people stand jaw slack. Nobody leers in care as they're not the law, Nobody fares well, so they want old law back. However the rulebook of old is lost. Common sense now too far past is post.
Gord
2014-09-05 12:00 am
Slane Girl I wish I were Giving head to my peers All these feelings ecstasy brings Lack of self control teenagers portray No ecstasy feelings linger No hand from my peers Wish I weren't Slane Girl
Gord
2014-09-04 12:00 am
No void ever felt more like home. No survivor of the pipe ever wrote, So white stars filled the sky often, Orchestrating slightly bizarre concepts, On equally bizarre table of conception.
Gord
2014-09-02 12:00 am
I transform retribution, I collide with an enemy, Destined for fusion, Corroding my memory, Crashing the computer, That is me. I open on pretense false, In hopes to gain my loss, Yet no fate goes uncrossed, No face goes on unmarked, No bullet grazes, They self aim and kill marks. In honesty, I hope for their retribution, Not believing what you do, I find no institution for truth, Investigations reveal soot. To conceal boots under sock. Truth should be implied, Secrets shouldn't even be whispered, When no secret knock is employed. Among Imperials, two faces clash, Destroying the child middle, Purpose born was to protect class. Among the tyrants, A sleeping dog, His brother opposite, A sleeping god, Purpose forlorn and meaning lost. Shoot the gun across, regardless, Trees grow from the river, Implying a garden should exist. Yet at the bottom I find no solace. No mythical beast of which to conquer, Nor mythical flower of to tame beasts. So no feast among mythical followers. Sewn feet no longer bother to move. Brooms no longer even bother to sweep. I see Cost front by the citizen, Expected which are also to clean. Past participle's partisan cuts so cleanly, No partisan is left opposite to thee. Clearly, No god laughs, Sincerely, No god falters, And no human shots cast, Except into human carnage. No gain for loss, No pyrrhic victory, Due course. No force of sympathy, homeopathy, anthropology, from the horse. No, mostly poor choices. Voices ringing with phones dead. No voices in his head, Scream morality. of course. No soldier gains a victory. sans cost. None recognize the courage, of Hailey's comet. So the gunfire blazes onward. Amongst the slain, are the slain. Those who shoot have bullets same. My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza, Which I modify to fit in holster, As exactly as I imagined her, Far above a reasonable caliber. For a man who lacks resources, For as a woman he lacked chorus, Pestilence amongst the formal courtships. How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible. I stand purportedly screaming peace, Screaming bullets purportedly corpse. I stand in face of uproarious force, Screaming should-haves, Scoring for would-have, Who now will manage. Tired, I cast aside, Casting stones seems now juvenile. Especially in a world this finite, Who needs to choir for killing time? Button press' jest as being less vile, Truth as masked chide, Who now will bandage?
Gord
2014-08-28 12:00 am
How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible.
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