Innasense
2020-09-20 08:33 am
Third time was the charm A tormented soul bled out Life worth loving, lost Lonely surrounded,/ A house filled with laughter, but/ Today I feel blue Under darkest shroud/ These green eyes find no sunshine/ Not today at least Force another breath This impenetrable funk And me stuck in it Static in my head/ A sound no one else can hear/ And I can’t escape It’s a feeling blue For no good goddamn reason Sucky kind of day Disconnected from all Desperation rules my head The world seems too small
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Innasense
2020-09-14 11:17 pm
”The End” The night is young, Barely swollen with stars When the illusion shatters As though everyone I had ever known was gone The world as I had come to know it, Ended. Apocalyptic, And without near enough warning. Those paper souls lost, Their memories fast fading, The stories they told, Words lost in the wind Some names forgotten, Others stamped permanently onto my brain, autographs on my heart. I reminisced for a moment On the places we’d been, Conversations had, Friendships shared, Hardships weathered. Bright sunny days spent outside Or solitary nights spent avoiding sleep, Blanketed by the silent words between us, Alone but for each other’s company. Now I just feel alone, utterly, This finality staring me in the face Nothing left to do but face this music Slipping away at too rapid a pace These final notes, One last embrace. I tell myself I must accept this end, But allow myself one backward look Steel my heart, Heave a sigh, And with great trepidation... close this book. ❤️📚💔
Innasense
2020-09-13 09:15 pm
Poetry Satirized What is this thing they call poetry? It’s mostly “pretty words” you see Ok, maybe there’s a bit more to it... I’ll see if I can walk ya through it. We rap similes and metaphors, Figurative language whores Plays on words And turns of phrase Emotional squalor And issues for days Lovers lost And sadness deep Words that when trapped Keep us from sleep “Racing to the finish” Or dragging our feet And not to compete or attempt to defeat But simply To complicatedly complete Alleviate or desecrate All depends upon the date Or what kind of day we had Pissed off, celebratory, sad Or in poetic terminology, Raging, blessed, melancholy We personify and mystify “Let them see it through our eyes” We rhyme and reason Or sometimes we don’t It’s not that we can’t It’s more likely we won’t Abstract or concrete Or both all at once Painting deeeeeep pictures... But sometimes only of confusion Poetic delusions 😉 Words made in illusions Or maybe allusions? No wonder we can’t always reach a conclusion... So “pretty words” though they may often be, There is a bit more to this thing... Poetry.
Gord
2020-08-20 01:53 pm
Books opens, pictures, Bulldozer, fixtures, Foot soldier of bitterness, Do good moments wither? Pull over, hood open, Notice you could use a push, Look to the wool-grower, Whose home you turned to dust, Hopeless with his heritage lost. Is a cactus cost-effective? Is an organ, mostly defective, Less than nothing? Ask a cleric, politician or elective, At best, they repeat what they must.
Gord
2020-08-19 01:37 am
Modern artist, face the mirror, Not closet drama, faceless killers. Lost in waves of wonder, Are we not just slave for silver? Target markets, water watchers, Ask Martin Arnold: Do cranial ridges game the system, Worship quantum like heart of darkness? Bonnet drama, Common knowledge, Copper dollars, Collared scholar, Blame the victim.
Gord
2020-07-21 05:28 pm
A voice brittle, fawning, Lost in eyes are appearance, Yet words speak like songbirds, Though simple, like acrostics. If you can understand the point, Does also your voice hurt, from screaming? Do you need more caustic ideas, to dissolve your dreams? My meaning, yours, Our meeting curt, Can I find you feeding on lifeless birch, With food superior for a life of wood? Who fights against fascist sons, Racist daughters to which they sum? Who resolves just to be, Sits aside until the burning stops. What is beauty in a psalm? Without the son, the daughter, Is the sport lost? Where the ice is more soft, A cross stick, a want, Whistle wanton, a decision. To sit in a box, with conscious, Or a sideline life to correspond With your winnings.
Gord
2020-06-18 02:23 am
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
Gord
2020-06-15 03:16 am
Do thickets see steeples, or are people the thickets? If writers are thick headed, Writing of Peter Pans' pigs, Who visits? Bull, riches, seer, man, Write a list upon my hand, So that my plot, it thickens. What is time spent living: Divine or perspective driven? Plate spinner, of your illusion, Place your spins upon their back. Bull, chickens, and feelings lack, Who takes from hands of other hen? Who take the hands of other hen, Who take the land of wary men, Who lost to men, More suspicious then. What is it all about: Defense, or Pence, To what extent do I extend, What is strength?
Regnam
2020-01-05 03:16 am
Winter seemed to never end, I was standing in the rain. What is dead will rise again, to be lost to another raw cycle. We were dreamt up bare in the frigid cold, with only tears to shed. We were pale bodied lips tinted red, patiently standing by for seasons end.
Gord
2019-02-06 06:07 pm
Could I just wish? To be, Mired forever in my thought, Cubs would fish it seems; Would one list, to be not? On the fixtures glass, Alike one's heart, an ass. Like a bandage wonderful, Placed over a chest, Healing hearts impass, Task feeling, impossibly vast. Please come back, Please come back. For all I want, Is what lover's lack. Could I just wish? I could, Fish of this river forever, Desiring one lost, to be not. Would she list her lover first? I would think so, deserved For I have been gone, A decade and more, lustrum.
Gord
2019-01-10 07:14 am
Open prose with my dignity, I am simple, Iambs, imagery, Trying to oven toast, With my sympathy lost. I hope for you another loss, Scotch socials, often postures, Costumes oft. Walls filled with posters, To wish you, where I was, As if my feelings forgotten. Open hose of complacency, Teach me your giving ways, Leach lead onto my face, My children's faces, My foodstuff casings. Tell me of today: "I Take not, responsibility. Taste, not digestibility, My style succinct, My rubber hole, Leaves rubber taste."
The Sophist
2018-10-02 07:38 pm
Whatever they do find With whomever I don't mind Though I don't believe They must be alien I lost time Swear I'm not blind I look and see Words in the breeze Tongue-tied They oft-lie Telling tales of talking trees Ghosts will moan Beg and plead Selling rhymes But not this guy Not Today I don't got time Not for pizza Not for pie Not for holding others up Just to drop them when I die Today I built a shelf So they can sit there when I'm gone Thinking about nothing While they listen to my songs
Gord
2018-09-11 01:30 pm
Pour courvoisier, coke, smoke weed. For core voices toking loke green: Cork d’or choice, spoke woke meaning, Joke broke gleaming, Boast goat dreaming, Invoke oak healing, Poke coded readings, or cook mud. Saying I wouldn’t eat if off the bud, Gimme a fucking break, dawg you would. So form apostrophes, hoax followers, Dominate dossiers bespoke by leads. Chorus needy, broadway job, police: Honest lobbyist leaps, not, Calling policy preacher law, Homely Claudius fears god, Homer justice, and beating his chest raw. Former lover, for I see you as bourgeois, Fleecing people of their heart and minds, Champion blind, one eye is all but lost, Camping, body weak of fighting for causes, In causeways, his cautious mind pines, Cheesing through life, eating off rind, Leave, dodge, dive, Breed, scoff, lie, Edict goes like: What is life? Four courses, hope, feeling? Of course there’s more, but more redeeming? He simply says: I’ve not found thy.
Gord
2018-08-21 11:26 am
Friends spoken to be millionaires paid, Mind hopeful, experience bar full, I'm hoping to get a millionaires pay, Friends along with, interiors vague. Though rhymes alone do not denote caste, They are like paste, or a paper, Clinging to the things we wish to frame. Like metal rods with a magnet lace, I walk back to my original place. Pens broken and arms folded in front, Mind hopelessly lost of useless knots. Life like a lark, but come too soon, So hopelessly lost, inside of dark, Heart fought and hard fought, And eventually the daybreak comes.
Hazey
2018-08-14 03:50 am
The thing that hurts the most. You calmed my storms. You helped make sense of the chaos. You plucked me from brokenness. Helped me find strength. I don't know what it was. But just looking in your eyes. Filled my soul with peace. I miss it. I miss the quiet. The calm. I miss us. I'm starting to feel broken again. Empty inside. Trying my best. Not to let anyone see. But there are days. Where control escapes me. Do you think of me? As often as I think of you? Do you remember my name? What it once meant to you? I look back on that day. March 10th. Where I lost you. Where every image I had of you. Just shattered. You were no longer a refuge. You became a source of pain. You still are to this day. I blame myself for it. For my losing you. It's been three months. Realizing it's true. I don't cry as much. Though my heart still does ache. Try as I might; I can't bring myself to hate; You. The situation. Us. I want to throw it under the proverbial bus. I can't. Because the sky still reminds me of you. It was our destiny. Our sky. The world was going to be ours. Accept it. It's over now. These dreams just won't come true. I need to accept that what we are. Is through.
Gord
2018-04-04 04:02 pm
Style lapland, cola, A black knight broken, All they dig is holes, No pause. I'm tsarnov of the rhyme, I'm Midas of the pot, With time running out, And Race not lost.
Gord
2018-03-02 07:08 am
She lives for tomorrow, folding; Sight static, fight fantastic. Not matters you, me, or belief, Our forevers spent grieving, but of a might, life traveled. Snapping, chatting of pictures, Scared of the aperture, focus, Not the fools and hocus pocus. Yang sits riverside singing, What a life quaint, dyed. Painting faint inner lies, Things remissed never vied, Another sister left behind, Another brother lost to time, Benefactor earth, Loss to files, binaries, Tyrannies, buying, surprises. Redacted is worth, Prose, everything vibrant. Observers know of likeness, Sequel to the Mona Lisa, Pious only to feeling.
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