Gord
2017-12-22 08:16 am
Poems raging, lacking pace. Rhyme displaced, slave poetic, Mimes a mate; Ascetic eighth. He contemplates, Turmoil ashen like a lake, Dry, passion like a brace, Ally, fraction of a base, Like traction in a maze, Honest. Falls on his face, Spoiled rotten like a cake, Miser, action of a fetes, Wiser, lies of his teeth, Master of feelings, queens, Preachers and lease themes. The forums elated, Rhyme chorus to cup, Slated liars, Foreword comments, Style stolen from bucks. Foreign orphans portioned a trench, Sowing poems owned forming trends, Lies chorus, verse honest, Hurt's doughnut and curse harmless.
0
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
2017-11-14 07:03 am
Traversing the forest, Lakelands' Adonis denies support, A life abridged, lies purported, Rhymes dismissive, Current from shore; Spies thwarted, imported, Assorted, awarded, Escorted, extorted, Aborted, recorded; Rewarded as kings, Buried like swords. Verse, chorus, He is upon us, Life no more warm; Files, less security, Flies less than before.
Gord
2017-11-03 12:07 pm
Fanciful dreams idyllic, A World kept inside, Drinking of the streams, Field workers denied; Hands tied, perch supplied Arms raised and sullied, Ashen as the skies; Blinking in acceptance, The step child pummeled, Guised as it is wired, More ignorance desired, So says the child; Father humbled: To be eaten by lions, He mumbles and flies, The world a mystery, He inevitably hides.
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
2017-10-18 11:50 am
I have concepts for days, Metaphors for four hours, And wordplays for wakes. I'm not bragging, I'm just impaired, Flawed above the mane. Miscarrying paper knowledge, Cutting loves careless arms. She finds herself wanting, Hair flowing, river forming, Learning is her sophism, So she lies until tomorrow, Feigning disinterest ursury, Tales of cursory, courtesy. A verse aloft in the clouds, Sounds out to an empty crowd, Life of deception floundered. World as in twitching flour, Face equal, equivalent arms, She curtsies and bows, turns; Runs away, her face as ours.
Gord
2017-09-15 08:35 am
Piles until the top, Flies at the skirt, Pillars of salt, of the Earth, Turtles until bottom, Fire wherever we are, Hide whenever lightning strikes, Deserts eventully finds someone, Living flame among life is hard. There is no benchmark for him, Spent onward is his life quiet, A ball aptly palmed by oneself, Never failures, tailored farewells, Jokes of the eyelids, Mind less apt for aperture, So he mocks and chides, Fixated on the comical.
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.
Gord
2017-07-18 06:12 pm
Like a dull axe she finds problems, Forever chopping away at them, honest, Heart longing for promise disregarded; Dressed for the ward, fully pardoned; Walking son further follows suit, Continuing without education, Tongue misconstruing in search; Fuhrer didactic, in foolish, Shooting skies of oration, Bullets true to the earth; Flippant remarks of life, Piousness to the dirt, Burying words in nonsense, Burning iron and desertion; Shakespeare by any other name, Apt it was before tall tales, Lies furious among the vegetation, Born, lived and smothered there; Meat filler, then life billiard, Son born a killer, Writing of nonsense, Mentally ill, political figure, Opinion maudlin.
The Sophist
2017-03-28 12:00 am
Lo Alas Loneliness Encrypt my heart From all the lies Malicious hacks Injecting pins in Plur attacks Controlling + Alt-shifted minds That place I know I am reminded Of you And I Am unrequited Still life It goes With booming silence That light That love That caused the violence That's not me I am the silence I surf through wind I soar with lions Still all my life I witness Nothing Blood Spill from my heart My crimson shining Armor lay beside it Quiet Still life On it goes In episodes No heart decrypting In fear our fear begets Compromising love to death
Gord
2017-03-21 12:00 am
Flowers lace the sill, Stone frames of lifestyle, Sagging windows in vogue, Stolen valor of masonry, Following sanctioned power, Also stolen. Perhaps I play the fool, Pen in hand, Man of head, Felled in mind. Thinking you would see me again, With love timeless. Tired eyes of the tire fires, Loving fights in the shallows, She lacks enacting desire, Not inadequacy. Big fish never leaves home, Aptly. Living to throw, Never catching. Pursuit of unkempt bastards, Told only lies, Keeping only pictures, Stones still held higher, Designated only pitchers, A Fighter drowns afterward.
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
2016-10-19 12:00 am
Continuing to writhe in pain, As the water runs through me. Hopefully one day they find a cure for being. For being alive most days can be aside, Or sutured as the village Miser, Who found his wealth in similar lies: The bones and arrows of similar lines. Propelled forward by similar desire.
Gord
2016-09-21 12:00 am
One imagines themselves mighty, Brightening the sand green, Perspiring with the people, Irradiated as it may be, It feeds the mind, for free. No future winter seeming fair. Porous players will evolve, With sinister gods favored. Last of a virtue, Patronizing and redefining the former earth, Denying that which lies between our worlds.
James Williamson
2016-06-09 12:00 am
The spirit of a stallion. By:James Williamson A wandering spirit lives in me, no board or brick may be my home. With the soul of a stallion, through this world I will forever roam. Consisting of a two stallion band, only me and my lack of trust. We run towards the unknown future, followed closely behind by regretful memories and clouds of dust. My shadow is my mistress, the world is my wife. She is where my heart lies, and when I am tired of running, she will take my life. Until then I will drink from the sea, and gaze into oceans of black. From the world my heart emerged, and when it beats for her no more, she will submerge it back. My spirit is a stallion, forever running until I ache. A thousand times in this life, my brittle heart will shatter. Yet solid remains my soul, that no one can ever break.
Justan Mitchell
2016-05-05 12:00 am
Is There One? One shall arise from the midst of these, yes these, these little ones who have watched their parents hung, strung as ornaments on trees, yes these even, in 2016. Then their are those without future hopes due to broken homes, these that have been led my mainstreams, instead of being led to mend broken bones, these that say "keep you voice in tone". But I say fear no the word alone. For when through the spiritual you roam, the heart, mind, body and soul will fill gaping holes, allowing pens to flow freely into places that pencils can't go. But then there are these who pose, posing in a still stance engulfed with frowns of hatred because they just don't understand and so their actions scream, "HEAL THIS BROKEN LAND!!!" And this has become their native tongue, crying out for the guidance of the ONE! Please is there one? Look into the eyes of those that have died before the age of five, those that wear hearts of black and blue art, with mental repetitious records rapidly playing the age old song why,why,why? Why do we experience sacrifice before we experience life? Like Christ? Why such a cost for these before they learn t be at ease? Maybe, maybe the world is impregnated by crazy and is on the verge of raising yet another baby? Maybe, maybe the man in the mirror reflects hatred because he hates himself? Maybe, maybe he can't accept kindness because he's been denied the knowledge of his own true weath, the knowledge his own true self. And then there are these who are lost without cares dragging along the heaviest wear and tear, with the deadliest raging flare, but tarry not along the road of destruction, because destruction is in the eye of the beholder, but the beholder beholding many self inflicted wounds and self inflicted wounds can easily spell doom! And then there are these who are serving high stations that need fine replacements! These that have been exposed by their blood drenched tongue, that on self unknowingly and knowingly told. Yes we know these. But sometimes and even one times these can be we. And now I see many spirits lost in the overwhelming shadows of IT'S beaming light, spirits claiming underdeveloped knowing as the source of their plight, and so it hurts me to SEE, Yet even still one shall arise from the midst of these yes these, these little ones who have watched the parents hung strung as ornaments on trees, One such as me. Is there one? Dangerous Soul Life Justan "Potential" Mitchell
Justan Mitchell
2016-05-01 12:00 am
Dangerous Soul-life... Free to be ME Poetic Universe I seee you are designing a fallen fatality for me, a generational king with a heavenly line of royalty, a legacy that born in me. And in that you must have seen in my predetermined destiny. Now I see clearly what you must have already seen and that's why you can't be truthful shaitan my frienemy? And the lies you tell to swell the minds of those in power, those who seek to devour, me me me And yes in deed it is all about me, selfish recovery. I'm on the plane and I need the mask to save myself first then Amiri, my born leader, ruler, prince, and future KING! My first and only biological seed. The boy in the mirror is reflecting me. When I was five I began to die and now that I've risen they still ask the age old question why, because I lied first and the result was others took advantage. Now I'm again in love, but this time it's with me myself and I. The man's reflection when I stand at the edge of flowing streams, tells me that this man is ok and he loves what he sees, Looking back so calmly without the use of nicotine, intoxicating drinks or weed, medicinally or recreationally. Yes I'm free I'm free I'm free to be to be ME. Poetic Universe. Dangerous soul-life...
\/