Gord

2026-09-16 08:19 pm

Never wanted epigrams,
She desired darkness,
Which is what I am,
Despite the markings.

Like Fred, says to Barney,
Maybe consider less daunting,
Less aimless form of life.

But Barney desires Betty,
A new car and a pint.

Gord

2026-09-16 03:38 pm

I got to see it all,
Cheers, applause,
Fear of god,
In the end,
I feel it's paltry.

Because I felt, love,
Never tested,
Done no wrong,
In the end,
I hoped to say I love you,
One more time, though
Maybe I said enough.

Gord

2026-05-26 03:17 pm

What matters most, when writing a book?
Followers, forewards, then crying a wolf.
What flatters most, when writing a note?
What do you think? Yes, maybe, or no?

But what matters most?
Peace between war? People you know?
You're not beyond greed of the sword,
But you're beyond breathing of smoke...

I really feel sorry, and fear on reproach,
It's not the party, and people, you know?
It's that we hardly ever spoke,
I feel closer to death than a dreamboat.

But, you're beyond breathing of smoke,
I really feel sorry, for fire upon the roof.
You're not beyond greed of the sword, 
But you're beyond letting me know.

So, this is how it goes...

What matters most, when writing a book?
Survival, reprisals, the life that was took.
Who chatters most, with somber looks?
Violent rioters, petty drunks, 
Armed with popular science.
He said different horizons, 
Dressed in the same wools.

Gord

2025-03-19 01:00 am

Blonde moribund wonders in awe,
Are you not overcome with thoughts?
Dark corners of the mind overrun,
What is more wholesome, bit parts,
Or the dishcloth wrung out?

Mob, tortoiseshell guitar, 
Small, popular orchestra.
Long, golden, charmed,
Large parts of the audience hate who you are,
Hate your politics and hate your forms.

Meet under the golden arches,
Maybe as you see the darkness, 
You'll see nobody around and see you're wrong.
Where were your brothers while you were gone?

I guess to a sorcerer, blonde, it matters not,
People treated like common wristwatches,
Only useful to you when you wind them up.

Gord

2024-11-26 07:08 am

I see yellow, blue in disbelief.
Spiritual sterility, misdeeds,
Financial instability, tricks,
Affinity for weed.

Advocate for your beliefs,
Maybe, about that, you should sing,
Not wordsmiths, suicidal tendencies,
And bowing, 
Hands and head about the strings.

Red is the color of blood,
Red is the brickwork at home,
Red is the byproduct of cones,
Red is the color of love,
Cleft lips, crushed bugs,
Insides of lungs.

Scry from that what you like,
But Toronto has a darkness, 
That should be red and white.

Gord

2024-10-21 09:30 pm

Chestnut, voices,
Gone are the old days,
Better choices,
Monochrome planes.

Upon canvas the mind paints, 
Scarlet the shade,
Far from water and rain.

Gone are the old days,
Fire took the farm. 

Childhood sweethearts, 
I could be wrong,
But fire looks good, to us all,
When it's on a smaller scale,
But on canvas or stage, 
Fire, has no proper place. 

Soon you'll see, things gone away,
I could be wrong, fire looks good,
When upon a crown and on a face.

Maybe one day you'll see these things,
Not the sullen, lonely greys.

Gord

2024-09-24 09:33 am

Ballet shoes, champagne flutes, 
Game room hue suede blue,
Cocktails offstage too.

Maybe I'll leave the wave pool,
Establish new trade routes,
Maybe not, who knows?
Bottles for now though.

Broadway too,
Wet roots, wrestling boots.
Scale teeth need scraping through. 

But,
The veiled truth is you wade,
Life is a swamp,
They lie, 
Blue in the face, 
Tell you it's not that way.

Broadway, grey hues,
Costumed plays,
Or he borrows like hooped snakes. 
Babe, that ain't for you,
It's not for anyone with a brain.

Gord

2024-07-21 08:49 pm

Yellow, and a bit of blue,
Both, I, and you. Purple, 
Lilac, I just care not for it.

Just like you never cared for me, 
Or any of the things that I thought. 
Fetch mother, friends, for comfort. 
Tell your co workers, or consort.

I, no longer for dramatic concert,
Agriculture of the hallway, march,
July, august or months of autumn,
Yellow, burst into skies of orange.
See If I toss and turn about it.

Like, he drives a porche, owns gold,
Fire and opal in his coat pockets.
Like, the eyes of horses see god,
They see not much beyond carrots,
Understand little of soap, clothes.
Like, maybe you cared for poems,
Little for poets, less even for prose.

Gord

2024-07-16 01:39 am

Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange,
But the yellow never changes in you,
Does it?

Thorn forest, there grows roses.
Though tulips, begonia warn you,
The world is full of your kin,
Thoroughbred horses,
Who rub their backs in shit.

You are a squid that inks, then drinks it.
I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit,
Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing.
You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias.

So, though two lips beg on, like au jus,
You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze.
I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools...
Whose blue oceans brown in pollution,
Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion.

You are a fun person, is my conclusion, 
Maybe red can change to an orange, 
Blue, though, can never be less blue,
You can never really be a better person,
Just accept yourself, I love you.

Gord

2024-06-28 06:38 pm

In Her Dreams

Everyday she grew more cynical,
Forewarned in the way he spoke.
'What makes trees grow?
Speaking indignantly?
Lazy, form english is what bees know.
Maybe there is more, maybe not.
Leaves, and lace upon her form,
Leers and mistakes on a forum,
Leaves and paces about a home.
Lady Clare, is this what you wish for?

Mais oui, upon meeting, she says,
but may we not once she sees him again.
She begs, making peace, but, maybe not.
What is under the stars, outside of the bar,
Yet above us all? In her mind, her.
But, actually, God. 
And he sees her like I see her:
Alone by herself, just of her mom.

Lo, girl, grate your feet, arms to nothing,
Cognizant, you can see what's coming.
So, use a word to cut deeper, I mean, 
Maybe there is more, maybe not...
Say please, and release the lions...
If a cognate speaks of alm, as always,
Bet a fool falls, autumn again, as always,
Winter follows.

Bees, on their belly, in a playful sense.
Wallows about woods and streams.
Striped appearance, demeanor, feelings,
He exits the scene with grace and dignity.
Asking the same, but bees scream, race,
As always, it's just the way things be.

Swallow a mouth full of eggs, and honey,
Forward, fundamentally things are different.
Not just you and me, for everyone that sees us.
The courts just take up space, mostly useless,
And friends never show up to court you, bee,
They treat you differently.

You are less than me, because you are less than nothing,
She says, and places her hands to the sun.
Youth burning away at her bloodied stumps,
Speaking in fear of a beast that runs, jumps,
Eating the bunnies she dreams about...

Gord

2023-05-08 03:15 am

If I could, I would take my grey for your gray,
My grave for your grave, but in the end I will fail.
Take my blade and slay your beasts, hero.
Even if all you see are beasts and famous people,
Not beings from which you take a piece.
In fear we never speak, like ancient egypt,
People change, things remain the same for me.

You aspire for some greater freedom,
Perhaps, from up there you can label people,
Teach them who should be sold as slaves.
Maybe you can take those taken pieces, 
Build back the things you took from me.
Gain more favour and speak loquacious,
But gone are the days where you heard me speak,
Gone are the days of our walks on the beach,
Because even long ago I was but memories.

Things have changed, besides the people,
Weight and age mostly, 
But when I see your face, 
You want an escape, I can see it.
A smile that lies on its face,
But your heart plain as day.
Rather than three hours too soon,
One minute late

Gord

2021-11-18 05:16 am

Beauty, all its mystery,
Maybe this is all a dream,
Belief instinctively,
Anger, or misery,
Or is it grief within me?

Imagine living, symptom-free,
Imagine, breathing with relief,
Instead coughing and wheezing,
Sleeping with vivid dreams,
While sleeping in the street.

A body smeared with honey,
Head to feet, conceit,
Declared supreme,
Yet not even complete.

Gord

2021-10-18 11:08 pm

Maybe more, Male Ego,
Four visits, no picnic,
What makes trees grow?
Speaking indignantly?

Gold fillings, your visits,
Lazy form English,
Everyday one grows cynical,
It's in the way he spoke.

H Bacon

2021-08-18 06:37 pm

Maybe Eternity is just a concept,
Maybe one day everything will end,
Maybe in a couple hundred years,
The universe will no longer be our friend.

Everything we know we knew would be over,
Can you imagine that,
City lights and happy memories,
Will all just fade to black.

It’s funny how we think we’re so powerful,
Yet we’re just hanging by a thread,
By physics laws that if one day brocken,
We will all be dead.

Monet

2021-07-27 02:50 pm

“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking 
Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement 
Not very much Redeeming 
Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming

Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing
Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and
Was I deceiving?

Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed

Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form?

Are you a demon?

But you weren’t demeaning.

You boost me up, 
Above the ceiling was my love

Like, not love, allow me to clarify
Was different, real connection
But anything more than that I inform you, I deny

And now I cry

Mine, your were not but all of you was with me
Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused
Mistaken thinking

Time, as more comes, you will fade
At least that what my research say
But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day

Leave me alone
I don’t want you here to stay

Memories in my bone 
Fractured when I lay 

Fractured when I wake

Fractured me in my waist

Oh what a waste

A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight
All I care is me and you changed that habit
Is that what lies are like?
Is the purpose damage?

If so you succeed because I’m more than done
I’ve lost my sun
Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica
You set me up
Trojan horse 
You lift me up
And when things got good you sat me down
Let me frown
Although I hide, that feelings sound
That feelings loud
Those thoughts clear 
These eyes hold tears
Those drops aren’t mild
Neither were my fears

So clear Ill steer for now
Others won’t be allowed
My voice won’t speak aloud
Not truth nor words of deep
Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out
They were from your slope
Your dope became my cloud
I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now.

If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.

Gord

2021-03-15 04:46 am

Canon roar, castles go,
Grab ahold, gravel road, 
A rabbit grows, 
As does his habits,
A hobbit grows,
Shrinking his jacket.
Life a la mode, 
What matters most,
When paddling boats?
Loneliness,
A partner to boast, 
Havoc that leaves you alone.

Gord

2021-02-04 03:12 am

Open lies, a world full,
Ocean tides, border known,
Mapped upon a mobile phone,
Burning eyes, wait in line,
A door, for more control;
Face comes first, defines,
Then maybe later stones.

Which would be more alone?
Sitting German in Lederhosen,
Burning all my former clothes,
Formal close, cutting ties;
Or a heart of glass, love inside, 
Which fights a world, nothing like?

Innasense

2020-12-28 09:42 pm

Obsessions 

What power you hold over me...
Every action, every thought 
Is just a push in your direction 
Feeding into the obsessions, 
Lost connections, misdirections, 
Absolutely positively coerced into these affections 
By a brain constantly seeking tiny moments of perfection. 

Though you kind of must admire this curation of adoration, 
All the mental efforts required to keep up the constant cultivation 
Of this undisturbed fixation, 
The impropriety and distraction 
of a single-minded meditation, 
All these mind-numbing, pacing, 
clock-like rotations 
Theoretically leading this obsessive mind to pure elation, 
The uninhibited fruits 
of this persistent dedication. 
Happy sighs and exhalations...

But then...
The sobering realization 
That somehow life existed 
before this shrine’s erection
And perhaps the cracks start to show, 
Unexpected but apparent imperfections, 
Initially denied and resolutely rejected, 
The shattered shards of a crystal ball that disagrees with my projections, 
The deflation, depletion, extortion
Of my vexation, 
Maybe leading to complete and utter exoneration... 
The disintegration of my fascination. 
Maybe someday...

But for now I prefer to float in my comforting contemplations, 
Giving in to the infatuation, 
These happy delusions 
of my mind’s incarceration. 
And if the worst this should cause is 
These false exhilarations, 
Then I shall stay here for a while 
And enjoy the scintillating sensations 
Of my obsessive ruminations. 

A
Temporary
Salvation.