The Sophist

2015-09-10 12:00 am

Day 1:
No stoic women and no false metal,
Living the life,
Inside of a kettle.
Hopping and jumping,
Trying to escape.
Grinding my teeth,
While the symphony plays.
"Does it feel great?"
"Yeah, it really feels great."
"Now what should I do?"
"I'll cry the next day."
Weeping,
Watching the moon start to settle.
Disappear too soon below false nettle.
"With such regret I will miss when I die,
So I dream to escape the world I deny."

Day 2:
I sleep;
The moon and my mind both settle.
I no longer jump;
Steam fills my kettle.
These stoic women;
Fawns for false metal.
Living my own life;
Fit in fine fettle.

Gord

2015-05-30 12:00 am

Arrogance not of the phallus,
but of action, and inaction.
Tinnitus not of the hole in the head,
Ringing caused by self-trepanation.
Few trepidation to remove my brain,
Truth was reviewed to be,
But against what could be,
That said with mind ironically elating,
I do enjoy a memory when masturbating.

Bhat Naieem

2015-04-20 12:00 am

Whenever i open
My wallet
And have a glance
Of your angelic brow
I gaze and gaze
And keep gazing,

Floods rise
In my eyes
My heart overflows
Emotions and pain,
Deep inside, cold wind 
Of need and desire blows,

And the flashes
Of all past memories
Conquere
My mind,
And my emotions
flow thru my pen

So, I'm caging
The days
Of your gracefullness
And my heart 
In the immortal 
words of my poem 

And after centuries
While they
Read me
They will see
You Beatiful 
And young ,

For my heart 
And my 
Words 
Would never
Let you 
Grow grey

Bhat Naieem 
All Rights Reserved

Gord

2015-04-01 12:00 am

Belief being atheistic,
Aesthetics being belief; 
Life of an ironic,
The bloody icon;
Procession of mighty parapets.
Discussion of architect high,
Feminism of the mind, body high.

Gord

2015-03-31 12:00 am

Belief being atheistic,
Aesthetics being belief; 
Invention of already dead,
Death of the intervention.
Intention lost, deemed release;
Life of ironically bloody guise,
Procession of the mighty parapets.
Discussion of the high architect,
Feminism of the mind, body high.

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

2014-09-02 12:00 am

I transform retribution,
I collide with an enemy,
Destined for fusion,
Corroding my memory,
Crashing the computer,
That is me.

I open on pretense false,
In hopes to gain my loss,
Yet no fate goes uncrossed,
No face goes on unmarked,
No bullet grazes,
They self aim and kill marks.

In honesty,
I hope for their retribution,
Not believing what you do,
I find no institution for truth,
Investigations reveal soot.
To conceal boots under sock.
Truth should be implied,
Secrets shouldn't even be whispered,
When no secret knock is employed.

Among Imperials, two faces clash,
Destroying the child middle,
Purpose born was to protect class.
Among the tyrants, 
A sleeping dog,
His brother opposite,
A sleeping god, 
Purpose forlorn and meaning lost.
Shoot the gun across, regardless,
Trees grow from the river,
Implying a garden should exist.

Yet at the bottom I find no solace.
No mythical beast of which to conquer,
Nor mythical flower of to tame beasts.
So no feast among mythical followers.
Sewn feet no longer bother to move.
Brooms no longer even bother to sweep.

I see Cost front by the citizen,
Expected which are also to clean.
Past participle's partisan cuts so cleanly,
No partisan is left opposite to thee.
Clearly, No god laughs,
Sincerely, No god falters,
And no human shots cast,
Except into human carnage.

No gain for loss,
No pyrrhic victory,
Due course.
No force of sympathy,
homeopathy, anthropology,
from the horse.
No, mostly poor choices.
Voices ringing with phones dead.

No voices in his head,
Scream morality.
of course.
No soldier gains a victory.
sans cost.
None recognize the courage,
of Hailey's comet.
So the gunfire blazes onward.

Amongst the slain, are the slain.
Those who shoot have bullets same.
My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza,
Which I modify to fit in holster,
As exactly as I imagined her,
Far above a reasonable caliber.
For a man who lacks resources,
For as a woman he lacked chorus,
Pestilence amongst the formal courtships.

How do we create such a melody?
Such harmony of utter melancholy.
How do we classify such insanity?
Such discourtesy on our society.
Such, bullets access and exit quickly.
Thus is the mark of beasts.
Thus a heart no longer beats.

Almost lack of mention was lack of faith.
Remembered and forgotten to become same.
All lost the castles of old days,
Only sandcastles remain standing,
Reminder of temporary management,
Of how well that pays.

I depart to vent,
Find myself post-traumatic,
I start to mention,
Find myself post-dramatic,
I mark myself bent,
Find myself post dragging.
Hoping to move forward,
Forgetting that lost in battle.

I sigh,
I realize that's not possible.
I stand purportedly screaming peace,
Screaming bullets purportedly corpse.
I stand in face of uproarious force,
Screaming should-haves,
Scoring for would-have,
Who now will manage.

Tired, I cast aside,
Casting stones seems now juvenile.
Especially in a world this finite,
Who needs to choir for killing time?
Button press' jest as being less vile,
Truth as masked chide,
Who now will bandage?

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.

Gord

2014-08-28 12:00 am

How do we create such a melody?
Such harmony of utter melancholy.
How do we classify such insanity?
Such discourtesy on our society.
Such, bullets access and exit quickly.
Thus is the mark of beasts.
Thus a heart no longer beats.

Almost lack of mention was lack of faith.
Remembered and forgotten to become same.
All lost the castles of old days,
Only sandcastles remain standing,
Reminder of temporary management,
Of how well that pays.

I depart to vent,
Find myself post-traumatic,
I start to mention,
Find myself post-dramatic,
I mark myself bent,
Find myself post dragging.
Hoping to move forward,
Forgetting that lost in battle.

I sigh,
I realize that's not possible.

The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

Left-hand turn,
Going 'round it widdershins,
Seems absurd,
If going 'round's done by a prince,
Without a girl,
A kingdom where two men are kings,
Oh, what a world,
Full of gay and shiny things,
And yet we curl,
And limit what we see in dreams,
Oh, what a world,
Fuck man and girl in sets of fours and threes,
We're not worried,
We'll get married to our companies,
The fucks insured,
All sure we're fucked contractually,
All sure it's pure,
Consummation makes the fuck complete,
Seems absurd,
You're raised so that your mind competes,
Submit to words,
Love for nothing,
Twiddle your box;
Accept defeat.

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.

The Sophist

2014-08-12 12:00 am

Bulwark for a king's depression,
Surely there is not.
Within the vast divine impressions,
Introspective thought.

A cirque carved in a sick obsession,
Leaves a body fraught.
Torn apart from mind's aggression
Coldness forced astop.

The Sophist

2014-07-30 12:00 am

Yawn,
A boring thought,
Moving on.

Blah,
The time we've fought,
Force mignon,
For nei' were strong.

Plod,
Reason/not,
Such are battles,
Which we ought,
Discard to dogs,
Trained to chew them.

Humdrum,
Through coral caught,
Stone filled satchels,
Path danger fraught,
Mind's a fog,
Not mad at you though,
I'm only mad duly.

Doldrums,
I wish it would stop,
I'm mad at myself,
For letting this rot,
I'm not just licking frogs,
My croak at the moon shows,
I only care truly,
If you care about you.

Pedestrian,
Living life at the top,
Panopticon cell,
And fuck is it hot,
But we sit writing songs,
I croak at the moon slow,
We make a pair fool-ly,
Sympathetic,
Two lives out of tune,
At different ends of the spectrum,
Beauty ensuing.

Apostates to our parents' dreams,
Too old for pride, 
But maybe peace.
We'll love in long strides,
A boring thought,
Despite defeat,
We still move on,
Lows bolstering highs,
Finding new regimes.

The Sophist

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I hear a voice,
A voice that is screaming,
Words with no meaning,
From lips I can't lean to,
If I try.

By chance or by choice,
By passion or comfort,
One or one hundred,
Sounds you can run through,
In your mind.

If you give it a try,
You can accidentally bike out onto the road,
Get hit by a car,
You can get drunk and die,
Body falls on a button,
Makes the world explode,
It isn't that hard.
If you're not young or retarded.

Theseisms destroy,
All classical meaning,
Those labels you're dreaming,
I'm going to eschew them,
If you try.

Sit back and rejoice,
I'm not trying to free you,
Nor'm I trying feed you my truth,
View beauty in tandem,
Anytime.

Life isn't a crime,
Keep your mind on a lovely abode,
Eyes watching the north star,
You can get drunk and not die,
Live all that is written,
'tis the will of the poet,
La palmure! J'am trop tard!¹
Soft sophist; sophisticated hardly.

Footnotes:
1. La palmure...tard "The web! I'm too late!"

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

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.

The Sophist

2014-06-13 12:00 am

All life delenda est¹,
Heterogeneous minds develop post-deletion,
War, Children, it's just a shot away,
Rape; a murderous arrest.
All life lived best,
Mental quest yearning soul completion.
War, Children, it's just a shot away,
This is only a test.

Footnotes:
1. delenda est latin for 'to be destroyed'.

Gord

2014-06-11 12:00 am

I dander,
To her I cling tightly,
In her I find me.
In me she finds her;
So clothesline or a ligature,
Is just a state of mind being.
At least, that's what I'm seeing;

So I pander,
I find the back end of a hand,
Which leaves me more filled with anger.
Yet everyday I manage.

Until I found out the sun is dangled,
So perhaps too, the moon is dangled,
Leaving me in anger.
My love in the clutches of another,
My whole life fandangled;