The Sophist

2014-08-05 12:00 am

My Nicomachean ethics dictate every day,
Every day I sleep until I'm late,
I place blame on my friends and family,
Regarding problems I create,
Leading all our lives astray,
I pay friends to rape my fiance,
Go to church, kneel down, and pray.
I waste my life away,
Raise my kids like JonBenet,
Rotten melons in Easter hay,
So well my part I play,
Shadows fades, the suns awake.
Used socks left a-hang,
Stinking up the atrium of the Global Chalet.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

I'm sorry,
She called me,
amateur poet,
Who is she?
To question the merit,
of an artist?
I mean,
Is she marxist?
Does she study philosophy?
I mean, 
It seems like her carpet,
Would be stained cheese.
I mean,
Where was her fedora?
The Woman should insulted be,
Why? Equality.

Gord

2014-07-30 12:00 am

The illumination now seems like magic,
Flashing fights amid darkening background.
Giants no longer able to wish to fight,
Only to die to be back among the pack,
To re-ignite, to fight from higher ground.
Ironically battle is lost by those with the foundry.
Their heaven lacked the fortifications necessary.

The Sophist

2014-07-24 12:00 am

Quick, snap some pictures so my friends can see my band.
 We don't have any good songs yet so they wouldn't
 understand without the glamour shots.

Quick, take some stammered stills while I hammer shots. This
 will be the best band to make it the top without a strand
 of talent in our hands. 

Don't tell me how to raise my band. I know what music looks
 like; tactfully unplanned. I write Pizza Hut music like
 Ariana Grande. I expand, and so disband. My drummer had
 demands, and ignored my commands. My solo career takes
 stand. 

Quick, snap some more glamour shots so my friends can see
 firsthand depraved aspects of my brand.

The Sophist

2014-07-21 12:00 am

See depths of apathy,
In lengths of hair,
Like half of me there,
Other half in'other room,
Gaping blankly it stares there too,
Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off
 in my mind,
See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas,
'splayed 'round the front of my being,
All this beauty is mine,
Even you are in the bounty,
You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath
 my feet.
You move me.
You are a seed that grew toward this
 ever-falling tree.
Freedom gnaws at nature,
A crutching being what's need.

Gord

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Wireless like the spy network.
Re-worked that line reads:
Pyrite like the bomb network,
That evolved from good times.
Happy days and thick lines.
Hollywood bats his back nine.
Happiness captured in his eyes.

Gord

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Cardinals, Priests,
Meadows of patients waiting.
Gold Dinar, feasts,
Falsettos of passion singing.
Bringing ashen feet,
Bellows and deep reservoirs.
Nothing but temptation,
Fleeting hearts, mellow minded followers.
Cheering on, like stallions they broke us.
Ignorant engulfed in a field of locust.

Gord

2014-05-29 12:00 am

The rates remain,
In fact,
Let the rape remain,
In tact.
A Genghis plan,
No time for mathematics,
The Queen's virginity remains intact.
The people's impassivity remains fact.
Humanity needs a savior,
The mimicry drains that.
A finality,
For in the end, in synchronicity,
Invincibly the choir sings.
However dismissively,
Lyrically they sing lit matches.
For historically we lived like bastards.

The Sophist

2014-05-26 12:00 am

If you could go back and change your life,
You look back on your strife?
Would I go back and change mine?
I look back and my life is changed daily.
For the better?
Questionable.
I look back at my life deranged gayly.
For the most part; 
Insatiable.
Satiated in my adolescence with hot knives 
hot paperclips unwinded
on hot tables 
while a hot ocean waited for hot iron;
Not able.
Enough quotes from a world of war to be the next supreme 
gentleman,
I changed my life enough to know that truth is irrevocable,
I'd choke a bull for a chance at life less like a festival 
of Bedouins negligible.

The Sophist

2014-05-10 12:00 am

Education in some countries is just pure sophism,
I decree to stop this,
This writ from the wrists of the Sophist,
The Prophet of Modern Economics decrees fatwas,
I decree a fatwa on stockpiling gross product,
A fatwa on Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabanna.
I decree a fatwa on the arms race and the misconduct and
 misappropriated actions committed by the powers meant to
 help us.
Or at least help make shit less like a world of make-shift
 shiffs chaotic,
With less false promises to put less narcotics,
In the streets, our food supplies, and antibiotics,
All these soup lies make me vomit,
World spirit will not die,
But it crawls,
Dragging body behind hands,
Counting months in brief mnemonics.

Kodyboi

2014-05-07 12:00 am

You have to swear
Swear to love loving me,
This trailer will last forever,
We must have a story-book ending.
With a happy end game.
I swear to never go away.
I swear to never put aside,
The things I'm gonna say.
To the stagehand,
I will never confide.

Use your eyes only to look at me.
Use your piss-soaked, whore mouth,
Only to kiss my whore lips.
We are branches of the 21st century.
You can laugh only if you laugh at me.
You can cry only if you cry for me.
Forget what you're condemned to be.
Can't you see?
You filthy cur,
You always were,
You always will be.

You used to Willoughby so nice
I should see a doctor,
Who could keep trains from hitting me.
But A jealous woman would suffice,
She makes it easy to see coffers.
She knows I'll defrost to keep pace.
Opinion will change, but at steep cost.
It also may take a while,
So smile for the time being.
I'm feeling poor in the stomach,
My head is spinning and I feel like a fool.
I think it's about time I change the rules.

Kodyboi

2014-04-23 12:00 am

I remember when we broke up the first time.
I remember trying to do nothing.
Saying "this is it", like a Jackson hit.
I remember not seeing you for about a month.
I remember waking up,
I remember remembering a punch in the mouth,
Reminding me to chart future relationships out.

I'm calling it off.
The wedding and the dates you liar.
I'm telling you off this time.

We'll never, ever ever get back together.
Go talk to your friends. Talk to mine.
Waste your time,
Spend your time playing pretend.
End up like Islam on the Balkan Island.

I'm really going to miss writing.
Miss writing is miswriting,
Misleading my idols into the trivial.
Hiding the infinite potential on vinyl.
Throw on the CD, it's more indie than mine.
More John Frusiante than girls from Niandra.
So for another month I'l find peace of mind.

So you called me up,
To talk about like love, but no luck.
Because I was like, and he was like.
and they were like.
Even his parents didn't like him.
So he was like, ugh, boring.
and I'm always touring, so like, fuck him.

We're never, ever, ever, getting back together.
Your friends balk, and my friends bawk.
So the whole thing is pretty complimentary.

Gord

2014-04-18 12:00 am

Implying I stuff my bra like Maria.
Tiny tits propped to seem like Serena.

Gord

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Felonious,
Like I flew through the disc.
Understood every metaphor,
In every one of his hits.
Like I stood to an applause.
Uproarious.

Gord

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Felonious,
Like I flew through the disc.
Understood every metaphor,
In every one of his hits.
Poet, who were they written for?

Gord

2014-04-11 12:00 am

I log in online,
Most likely I'm confined,
   or retarded.
Online I can be anything I wanted.
Like I can be a dog,
and eat a dog's food,
I'm the average aspoet user.

I Have a sexual fetish,
With no sexual elements.
Eat clementine oranges,
Receive my erections,
Pointed in your direction.

Un-anointed poets are bereft.
The bottom of the page is best.
They re-post the date and the city.
Supplement updates how their feeling,
While they manage to omit their audacity.
Masterfully crafting their art: Re-posting.

Gord

2014-03-18 12:00 am

I pause for an applause, but silence fills the room's divide;
They don't like my lines? Well I'm the new pasty wino,
I came here to expound how I... then I left the game to die;
Like the game did to me with crack cocaine,
Which it turns out I like;
You'll niggas don't even smoke crack, viper provides.

Gord

2014-03-18 12:00 am

Dismayed, they go on to play with more singers,
Call girls and you call the band over;
Clearly you plan to continue forward;
With a drum and bass nobody has ever heard of;
Clearly you're like the Doors in the 40's with an in;
Misinformed; Just like Jim Morrison;
A university student proclaiming to know the way that God would live;