Gord

2015-11-19 12:00 am

Is this love, Alexander?
Promptly Cleopatra answers,
Dancers kicks, and spins,
Treat the story like a stage,
Improperly tuned for appraisal.
Alas I spend my days,
Fighting weary foes in cages.
My half heart being only paper,
Protected death in glass case.
Lament for my love continued,
Contained in a brass vase.

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.

Gord

2015-02-11 12:00 am

ACT I:
The brother of the first protagonist  challenges the first antagonist to a duel, during which the wife of the first antagonist interferes on the battle causing the brother of the first protagonist to be slain. The right hand man of the first protagonist slays the first antagonist in revenge, during which the wife of the first antagonist flees. The right hand man of the first protagonist is injured, and takes a much longer period to reach home than the wife of the first antagonist.

The wife of the first antagonist spread false rumors of cheating on the side of the brother of the first protagonist, and takes a secret lover as her new husband.

ACT II:
A long period passes and the first protagonist agrees to battle both the first antagonists wife and her new husband, who looks to regain the honor of his small kingdom against the wealth and influence of the wealthy protagonist.

During the battle, a man who looks alike to the first protagonist (second antagonist) shows up and watches over the battle as the first protagonist slays both the first antagonists' wife and her husband. As he celebrates his victory, the second antagonist slays the first protagonist with an arrow, and his right hand man disposes of the bodies.

ACT III:
A short period passes with no word of a victor on either side and the wife of the first protagonist has a breakdown, and she dies just before her husbands funeral.

During the ceremony the second antagonist shows up and declares that he is alive, and had just fallen into a river during their battle after slaying them both. A great celebration is held in his honor during which he does not question where his wife is until the right hand man of the first protagonist mentions it, which raises his suspicions. The Right Hand Man of the first protagonist is demoted whole the right hand man of the second antagonist is promoted.

ACT IV:
The second protagonist (RHM of the first protagonist) attempts to gain evidence against the second antagonist, however, the second antagonist falls ill and dies. The second protagonist gains evidence of the truth at the second protagonists funeral, but chooses not to reveal the sensitive information, and instead plans to slay the right hand man of the second antagonist, although he has reached a high ranking position since his arrival, especially as his name was left a large inheritance by the second antagonist.

Gord

2015-02-09 12:00 am

Voice 1:
I may ask a question of nonsense,
However I ask not philosophical,
Practically, cannot we heed,
We merely speculate, sight unseen.
Anointing of the dyke absurd,
Fools searching to search of,
What poignancy is a question like,
What is strife?
Why not question, what is life?

Voice 3:
Life is currency of an institution,
When I speak loud of retribution.
We both die upon our war machine,
Apropos closure for those supine.
Solution besting additional convolution.

Voice 1:
Passing stars dull with light,
So perhaps all fate is forever finite.
And all twilight is then n'everlasting,
Caste chaste over trivial happening,
Casting themselves of classical tragedy,
Without squalor or clothes raggedy,
Hip stores looking to rewrite history.

Voice 3:
True, but I see no god protector.
Contractors of the holy body,
They are probably of nobody.
Villains to die of destiny,
Enemy of the true spectacular.
Enemy not just of the vernacular,
Binoculars or arbitrator.
An enemy alike to a Reich betrayer.

The Sophist

2015-01-06 12:00 am

Hey ladies;
Why so shady?
Y'like my style?
Y'hate me.
Meaning rape me;
Via meager dating.
Eager taking,
O'fore a day's fading.
Y'kno'wha'm sayin'?
Y'crazy,
I'm'a take o'for a day or so maybe.
To bomb you with aggression;
Guinness, Jameson, And Bailey.

Gord

2014-12-17 12:00 am

Wallow as I make fire upon my hand,
Dire locks upon mired thoughts of a man,
Swallowed like inner parts of a clam.

The Paraffin One

2014-09-15 12:00 am

No wave easily embraces a shore,
Yet broken it finds solace soars.
Beyond is sea, pale godless,
No effect easily saves scores.
Yet a violin plays of the whore,
Upon the pier, praying for goddesses.
A boat launches without birth mother,
Father never sees need for guidances,
Tragedy is compassions' like brother,
Yet time must pass or we tarnish each other.

My tragedy at sea was like no other:
I believed in no Poseidon of fate.
So I found no place safe to wallow,
Waves endlessly chased my starboard,
Port too was nothing but ocean onward,
So I trumpet ironic prayers for rain,
Anything to wash away my shameful act.

The Sophist

2014-09-11 12:00 am

This content is irrelevant,
More often too irreverent,
Artist holds a reverence,
For using but one element.

All one needs is a beat and a mantra,
A beat and a mantra,
A beat and a mantra,
A beat and a mantra.

Gord

2014-09-05 12:00 am

I write oral histories,
Stories, opened on lies.
So everyone else a liar.
I'm not of their kind,
Though, I seem like-minded.
I seem to like it tough,
So your head and cough,
I've gotta do my job.

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.

The Sophist

2014-08-28 12:00 am

My mother thought that being silent was smart.
This is why I spent days in the dark, 
bed-crazed and my heart sobbing. I was 
ignorant of light blocked by goblins of my 
mind hoping to keep me trapped in the land of 
forgotten. Now I'm plodding; plotting my escape
daily to find peace whopping, lock it with me 
in a coffin and die flopping; watching my life 
pass before my eyelids drop and my chest 
begins rocking. It's like trainspotting or 
going yachting; either way it's going to cost 
me, and either way I'm rotting. I like to 
believe this is my personality popping, but I
also believe that everything I do's common. 
I'm not smart, I'm not witty, in wealth I'm not
sopping. I'm not silent, and I pity the poor 
for their problems. I'm not here to cheat 
people or shit on their knowledge. Prithee a
moment where people aren't thoughtless; prithee
a moment to claim a few losses for a man who
silent misfortune made solemn.

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.

Gord

2014-08-27 12:00 am

My hero lacks discourse, 
Decisions made lack loss.
My hero lacks mustard,
Dry bread lack lustre.
Meat tastes like horse.

The Sophist

2014-08-21 12:00 am

A Letter For A Dumb Cunt; That Slut.
Honk your horn and yell "fuck,
Fuck, Shit, move on to the sidewalk" on Bayview Avenue.
Suck my dick;
Long deck is muscle power.
Like that face covered muff.
So Fuck you;
Fuck your poon smeg also.
Piss off back to hell;
Take your jizz twat.
Slut shoo.
Make prey upon some four-some.
Jism over your butt plug.
Arse full like some wank show,
You race to get face fucked,
I glide as my bands flow,
Fuck your dumb cunt shit,
Bozo.

The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

Everyone is so depressed,
Though no one likes a downer,
As such casts frowns upon the Frowner,
And thus becoming frowns themselves,
Lusting after laughter,
Mad and frown obsessed,
Coat the world in spite of love or hate,
Diethyl Ether,
If I entertain the hatred one more hour,
I may get a bullet in my chest.
If I entertain my love for higher power,
I may still get a bullet in my chest.
Though no one likes a downer,
I'll admit that I'm depressed,
I wish I could be smart and know it all,
But I'll confess;
I'm not, and I don't.
Thus I walk unto another test,
Often times my thoughts are downers,
This is why I acquiesce.

The Sophist

2014-08-15 12:00 am

We walk, sleep, and love at same time.
Never touching same land,
Maybe we have seen same clouds or birds.
It's super deep; seabed at high tide.
Such height to withstand;
Able to perceive high twos as thirds.
Gifts like Hebe; she gives a young mind.
Youth-centered slow man,
Thus in dreams; youth in ancient worlds.
I derive order from a simply beautiful life.
Beautifully skilled stoneman,
Carving life for himself in beautiful strides,
My woman is a strong plan sublimed,
Though I'm sure a leap could suffice,
With her I see that without her I'm blind.

Gord

2014-08-11 12:00 am

Alas, you make like critics predicted.
The marathon runner now needs no glass.
Condensation enough for a victory.
Shock has found equivalency,
Just adopt this piece of shit dog.
Type? Don't ask me.
It would be a vain attempt at breed,
Trivializing my identity.

The Sophist

2014-08-07 12:00 am

Don' be 'fraid just don' come back.
Don' plan attacks on modern days.
They don' like us 'cause we're free,
If "free" means happily enslaved.
Raped every day but with a smile,
Hostility like Abu Ghraib,
Graves stone but a worthless trial,
We might as well carve frowning faces,
Omit names and write words only in dirt.
There just write "fags".
"Junior pupil at a private school nailed by
 nerds."
Then just laugh at it.
Muslims aren't depraved,
Lennon even spoke at large of living in a bag.
It's freedom in a way,
Think about it,
Living without caste,
Judged only by your spoken word sans judgement
 'pon your face.
They sort of make a case,
I'll even take it off if you can find a private place,
It's just less of a disgrace.
To think my mid-pubescent beard could not  
 effect my fate.
Ignoring shit we hate,
We could probably find a pace that we can all 
 relate.
Chill music but still rocking in your face,
Fat bowl of potato dill salad I created.
Personally, I like war with lots of laughs;
It can be great.
Nothing personal, but I'll crack 'spic and
 nigger jokes all day.