Gord
2026-09-04 07:20 pm
Forgive me, For being weak at times, For really having fights, I know, it's not right, But I'll own what is mine. Believe me, Scream, cry, But stay entwined, We still have time. And I'll believe in you, Like god believes in christ.
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Gord
2026-08-14 03:14 am
I've just realized, The end will be dark. No elation, cheers, Or applause. So hold me, until it comes, I'll just hope it never does.
Gord
2026-06-18 02:34 pm
The point is the point, Boys will be boys, The noise: Serpentine, Like around me it coils. I ask my father, what he knows... His axe to grind is my axe to grind, Consequence, why my ass is fine. But who dies I'll never choose, I'll never have the chance to try. The noise, deafening, and wide. Like it surrounds me, And I planned to hide. As the waves they overtake me, I realize everyone has to die, Grandfather's axe was never mine, And nothing comes after, A modern dance to time.
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
2026-04-30 09:47 am
Round mouth shouts, War cry, smoke to sky, Really? I'm quite surprised, You changed with the times, Now, you find the fight? You are cold, white, Like an old jazz style, How do you stay warm at night? I am bound down: stakes, ropes, ties... Beneath the giant lies. A man with giant lies about him, A giant in a human size. I am found down, shivering upon the tiles, Beneath the skin a person lies, A man with giant lies about him, As a spider consumes the flies, Pious continual, polite about it. Does that make it right? Well, let me fly around a bit, And with delight I get to live again.
Gord
2026-04-01 08:32 pm
Your friend talked, You saw my disgust. How could you? It wasn't. I still called you drunk, Two thirds of what I thought, I should have called you hot, I should have told you what I wanted. Instead you talked until I fell apart, I realized your better off, That we could never be in love. Your friend talked, You tried to get her to stop, Honestly I wanted more, But I wasn't being honest. I was trying to be myself... Instead you talked, I realized you are better off, That you would see things I never would, That if I had told you what I wanted, That we could never be in love.
Gord
2025-10-29 10:17 pm
Give no lead, monster, It's a leash that draws me to you, Not drives me onward. Furtive, so be honest, What brought summer to autumn? You have no real problems, Dollars, and little conscience. So, be honest, give no heed, What is it, that changed your august, To a bitter, doubting Thomas? What is it that makes the sun set?
Gord
2025-04-08 05:26 am
Easel, muse, what is fate? My eyes no longer meet it, My hands no longer make. Like a glove conceals a ring, Kind words, greater schemes. I must run like we were kids, I love drugs, love the feelings, I love the girl. Sober realism... Stare into the distance, Eventually you see the same, Tomorrow, is a little late
Gord
2025-03-11 04:39 am
Commit a crime and tell me, Uphill climb, and emptiness, Pills alter the mind, The novels I write aren't helping. I no longer deny blessings, All I had in life is French seams, Red meat and prayer beads. The movie is for the sex scene, Simple child, on empty, Pills alter the mind, Barrels this time, sweat beads. Why can't I, be like a chess piece, Alone, untouched by deadbeats? Webbing is where the spider eats, Domestic things involve police, Collective lives can then convene. A minor piece, A minor key, Minor to the ones who sing, A major deal on my journey, Despite wind, spiders scheme, What is not real is the bodies.
Gord
2025-02-25 04:33 am
Oxford Comma, Are we not enslaved for silver? Gord, in armor: ensemble drama. Modern artist, face the mirror, Closet, drama, nobody behind him. When I talk you hear yadda yadda, Ageless, fearless, I can carry on. It's talk you heard in a bar, It's what you saw from a car, Nothing really to talk about. Just fawns freezing in the dark, It is what it is, you are who you are.
Gord
2025-02-11 07:33 am
To the final, pathetic, vocal squeal: Drum trials, pathos in guitar steel, Reference, for the crowd to cheer. What is gone, but was never there? What is a woman? Complacent? Like God, you take a bucket, Drown her in rainwater, It remains clear. Her body is still good for fucking. His money is still good for fucking, Her body is still good for fucking, Nothing. Ink then vinyl, out into the real, Drum trial, pathos to the feeling, Defence for the crowd that cheers. What is gone, but was never there? Magic, you chose a career, Not a life path. Defend that! Missives you can't recite back, Missiles, like knives to the back, Missing like writing upon a staff. Music was a mistake in the end, Mythic, like an axe upon a head, Without your controller in hand, What is gone, but was never there?
Gord
2024-10-07 08:55 pm
Calm wind after someone has died, The distance, is inner turmoil, One, it takes a lifetime to fight. That's why there is blue in the sky. The yellow and red still exists, Hidden by tricks in the mind. Like, Somewhere inside, I believe you are still mine, All I see is the thing you're like. It's like a room of three pipes, I can always stay high, But how, does one fight to stay? They pick low and live life. Despite the teal, I see the skies, What is real? Me, and all my desires, Despite the sequins, I see the light.
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
2024-05-19 10:33 pm
All the things he wants, the things he loves, Of all things, he flaunts, to fools in the bar. He feels his playthings belong at home in a box. Amongst drawn straws, he stands like the water, And so does his daughter, and her daughter, They will never know a child without a scar, Who will never see an adult full of laughter. The sweet smell, is all the gardenia in the yard, Despie his greed, they keep growing tall. Despite what he sees, and is appalled by, Between the mirror and the wall, Is Athena and Cordelia, and appearances. She is nonheterogeneous, considerate, So, like lavender she stays with the wall. But really, these are just things he thinks, Knowing little, choosing again, rolls dice, He lost. And she takes every piece of his flesh from the bone with a knife, like god.
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
2023-08-21 06:17 pm
Like alchemists of emotional chemistry, Heavy silence about various subjects, Talks about how tents in a field, Might impact your freedom. Their beliefs, their decrees, It all has to do with degrees, Then-deceased, legacies, theories, All of which, to them seems real.
Gord
2022-12-22 03:17 am
Trying to break free, like a caterpillar. The feeling is of great joy and relief, Like a child being born, finally feels. Acronyms describe the experience, He became, "I", in the moment, Realized, in his essence, Idyllic, His dreaming was all he was. Heart curls into a ball, Wraps himself in yarn, Forgets the thoughts that haunt him, It doesnt solve wants or give cause, But he explodes in vivid color, Looking like an inexpensive car, He flies fast to escape the closing walls.
Gord
2022-12-09 03:01 am
In his future he sees tired coughing, The seer mundane usually finds nothing, Only peering back upon seared meat, Apparently to be, or feel something. In his mind, he wishes to be someone, See his sums upped, feel unusual. He is detached, however, like Buddha, But he has an even broader usage. Once again he peers into the ether, He sees himself equal and decent, Sears at the breathing creature, Fears his lack of freedom. "Coward", he screams, "Coward", he casts his disease. Pulls from inside himself, meaning. He sees his reflection again in the mirror, Breathing heavily into the air, at first, But eventually he cried with realization.
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