Gord
2026-06-18 03:27 pm
Never look a fish hook in the mouth, And never have any doubt, I'm fighting my way back home. But, Like radiative waves, I'm mostly out... And I'll never own a house. And I'll never have a spouse, And I'll never upturn her frown. Like oceanic waves, I'll mostly drown, And I'll never bank on being saved. And I'll never look at a fish hook another way, Like the metal corrodes my face, I slowly resolve and stay, And as it pulls me under, I'll let it take me away.
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Gord
2026-02-28 07:43 am
Like the sun goes away, You should be by again, Instead, darkness stays, Things change forever. Color is what he liked, Now, it's black and white, Weddings, wallflower, Cocaine and dice. Like a sun, centre sky, No exit stage right, Eyes upon you, finally, No escape from caskets, Or tricks to mezmerize. I wish I could tell you why, Like the eyes upon you, I can't sell you a lie, like, Everything is wonderful. You lost your mind with narcotics, You lost your magic along with it, Like the sun goes away, You should be back again, Instead, darkness stays. Color, is what you liked, Now, it's black or white, No weddings, wallflower, Mostly cocaine and dice.
Gord
2025-11-04 06:58 am
Every artist has a last work, Cherry blossom fall to earth. Scary monsters have last words, Respectfully, mostly bollocks, Withdraw the sword and worth, It's nothing after all you've done.
Gord
2024-09-20 09:01 pm
Have dreams, That's how you achieve them, Not bat ears and canned heat. Billy Bragg says 'freedom is' , But whiskey is softer on ears, Randy Blythe pushes people, Carried off as he prescribes. Chlorine, yonder, sapphire dyes, In your heart you can see their eyes, You never fully extinguish a life. Murderer, she says, most immodest, Mostly chlorine water in response, Yonder, the noble's calling, It turned her to stone on the inside. To me, like sapphire and diamonds. To her, being pushed from a stage, Down past concrete, into a grave. Into the maze, blue, into the grey. Now you are mine forever.
Gord
2024-07-22 12:49 am
Egg Yolk, turmeric, rare. Mostly about appearances, Vitamin b12 and Riboflavin. Such is the fellow person, Complex, whole in concept, Definitive, yet unborn. Kinfolk, rhetoric, fare, Mosly about appearance, Enlightenment, revenge. Mild, is the field's air, Be someone, she said, As she left, I yelled: "I'm certain".
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
2023-10-04 04:58 am
They say, love is fair, But then, what for free? Birds and bees, they explain, Saying mostly ends, Giving little means. A friend, dear, a branch, tree. When they speak they talk of weight, Everything they feel. Then they say, live laissez-faire, Paint the walls of red and greens, They hope you speak their language. Incentives and dreams, hopes of things. But what divides boxes and squares, Fishes and streams, them and me? Is it a line or the right to be? Speak freely, breathe freely, Easy, people say it should be, From a mouth that releases, Full of pleased flesh and teeth. But if they had one wish left, It would be for me to never be. Well, that's sweet. But I know what that means, Go ahead, feel your feelings. Just know, there is no you and me.
Gord
2023-09-17 07:37 pm
Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Like gawkers, ponders what they saw... 'Would you describe me, inside of a bar?' 'Must again, you make things be so hard?' 'Wasp, like I bumble about the pollen, Following a humble belief seems wanton, When you believe in things so violent and wrong.' Bird, quickly describes in simple songs, Big cities, things it saw in the puddle, Colors of war, bees that talk. Freedom, it sings, is also simple, One really needs not drift apart. The big screen, another big scene, It was mostly a facade... Balk, talk is talk, feeling in the dark, But most of what a bird said, lived on, Proper relief is upon the soul after all... So they write less of evil on the walls, In the sky, on maps or village carts. Against nothing, see the days beyond... I suppose those concepts are behind us. Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Is the city like a swallow, or like to swallow, and will he be the next one gone? Cause for alarm, make calls upon, Anything, but you lost the one. You love... Like a dog watching another sun set, More talk, another sun will rise again, Life for this bird is but more dogs. So like a coward, survives the storm, Shivering as they make their calls. Inevitably, to face the power lines alone.
Gord
2023-08-13 08:22 pm
'I just wish, with all the time I have left', As she squeezes her fists, laments, Her eyes see ideas she never said, Sadness bookends her existence. She knows what she is, and lies, She thinks she knows what's best, But she is losing her desire for life. I just wish, like all the cows she loves, She would fight and fawn over me for once. The person she sees staring into the sky, It seems she likes, but she rarely sees herself. Mostly other men, me, and occasionally, marquee lights. She thinks it's for the best, I'm sure. The person she reveals herself to be, As the ocean fares, she holds against, My love can only take so many hits, She says, as she sets the table, For two people, but never herself. She says in the end, it's for the best. What happened to the things she liked? She thinks to herself in a flight, Reminded of a dream, desires, Meets someone else and tries. Time is a god of fire, however, So it takes and destroys her, Inside first, then outside. What she does with her life, It's none of my concern, Fans in the crowd fight amongst themselves, Not with players they revere and beheld. I think I know what's best, but in the end, I knew very little of what I said, Even less of the outcomes she had. So, who am I, to wish?
Gord
2023-05-31 09:02 am
Compare deceased, compare diseases, Civil registry, never ending dreams. Quiet, discontented tree: Questions vex me silent, Why do we drink of selfish need? Why do we eat to reddish green? Why do they scream your scaring me, While I achieve new levels of self deceit? It responds, about roots and leaves, Tools and people, fools and fees. It's beyond me to understand. Again indeed. Only man writes with a pen, Ire infinite, to the final syllable. A point most misunderstand: Life is not miracles, appearances, Science fiction or analyzing images, It's mostly the wheres and whens, Indeeds said again, friends you miss. Like all the pyramids get built, You'll find they went brick by brick. Like kids, chimes in the wind, Ideally they play without worry, Not re-examine life endlessly, Like a firing squad that never hits. Like a chime without another, It takes only one to be lonely, Two people to live. Hair recedes, favour leaves, Ferris wheels and screams, Once again, the tree speaks, This time about seasons, Blues and greens, Views and seeds, You open your own mouth, freely, Someone else's dreams. Again indeed. A mirror responds vaguely, Instead of self reflection sees, Things that terrify, Even when they close their eyes and they sleep. One could compare their life to a sheep, Sheppard, or favoured elite. What one eats someone decides, Where one sleeps someone else decides, Who one sees is limited, they cry. But they compare to a bar too high. Then with their time, belies, nevers, freezes. Feelings of timidness, cheapness, lies, Triangles you hope to avoid thinking, Inevitably though you need drink. You need some chips, think about it. You need a horse to ride to the store, Because you're lazy as shit. So I guess just hope for the best, But also go for it. Again, Indeed.
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
2021-02-25 01:46 am
Understand and teach, Understated leaning; Two doves meet, screw, Too political to flee So peruse their feelings. Undo seams, view my being; What ensues is anarchy, Stop to stare at the window, What do you see? A world, without me; Call the children, in at once! It's not what in his heart, It's the way he talks! A speaking hall of mirrors, All it's brilliance lost. Chicken mostly water, Only poultry in part. Justice and peace, Butter and cheese, Elephant man feels, just like bad dreams.
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
2020-02-13 04:33 am
Who was I to write down? Key turns loud, however, The key turns around. Free me of my bounds, I can free you of yours, My art, part astounding, Mostly aster pounding, Hoping for brighter pink. Who am I to press down? Pestle grinds slow, A Mind grinds slower, Eventual beach polluted, The key turns around, It says: "Free me of these clownfish, acting clownish and catfish. Art is only partly a mish, Mostly is unequalled feeling." His art, part niche, Part for seating, Parts for kings, rich, Parts for heathens. Parts to reason other parts, Written partly to see them.
Gord
2018-12-07 12:28 pm
Lately, I write universal, Rody Walker disapproves: "I see through you, Ethereal, feigning too close, To touch a virtue. Oh, feeling, careening mostly, Posts passing, tongue lashings, More dashing, floor, gas pedal, More dashing, more dashing, One says, like a clause." Platinum ring, yet, Heart diamond, set. What's happening, please, Forget my misdeeds, luck, A hat in a ring, belts, One generation fights back, Another fights against. Poetry succinct, mispelled, Written on cocktail napkins, Waitress dismayed and going, Thrown to a well indistinct, Dreams worth more than coins, More than love or poinsettias, Less two roses that grow together. At least, If I throw my feelings, Into the well they drink, One day they will think of me. Although, If I know I'm leaving, Into the well I go, no warning, or unthinking. Tomorrow, If I am untoward, Bloated upon our meeting, Give me shelter from the storm. Or at least a greeting.
Gord
2017-11-24 07:21 am
Hands idle, crossbow fired, Archetype tribal. Life mindful, mostly recital, Model, needle, idol, Last verse final. She writes of family, Bride bridled, man entitled, The brine hers, Facts delightful.
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?
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