Gord
2026-07-14 03:06 am
It's not the language they speak, It's that they speak my language, And they can pass grammar tests, Better than me. So, c'est la vie, To everything... Is that seriously your position? Egyptians watch people from the sea. Until the waves are overwhelming, Like you, they will be, at best, relief. It's not an answer to everything, It's that you walk down the street, Then talk to people. Instead of becoming antisocial, Cherry picking animal bones, And little use for any more. It's not semantic, or colloquial.
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Gord
2025-10-03 06:47 am
First of being, just first reciever, From the cathedral, screaming, Puppet Jesus upon the strings, Love only for freedom, not people, He cares not what they need. First of being, crawling from the sea, Into the cathedral, screaming, Puppet Jesus upon the strings! Love for only freedom, He cares not what they need!
Gord
2025-05-07 06:41 am
Thorough I write my kinship, Kingship, flagship furlough, Turmoil, searching for more. Is it just lies, unknowns? You seem to say so... Though, you write by wishing, Never anarchy and addiction, The things that you know. One more pint, by instinct, Stitches, side bitches, dislikes, sometimes singing. Is it just lies, unknowns? You seem to say so, Though, you live by it, Unlike any lyrics you wrote.
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
2025-01-09 03:48 am
Hell is where bones conjoin. Fell into boys, resin oil, foil... Paranoid terror, disappointment. What was worse, Your disease, or my point? Multiple choice questions on the medical forms, Your network connections on cellular phones. Joint ventures, a voice credits feminine for, But between the temples the evidence shows. Goodbye are the days, Yellow presence, White, like breast or loin, and yet, still like poinsettia, Red on the inside. Compare your sickness to mine, Hell is where bones conjoin, There to which the feathers fall, Quality of life destroyed, Vaporizer oil, foil, credit card, Paranoid terror, disappointment. The spider bites with sting of poison, Whether on the page or from an arm.
Gord
2024-10-28 11:23 pm
Maroon, like red in the sea, Darkness: blue and green. Hardest to reach, Harder to please, Wanton to breathe. I feel like water through beans, Merely used, to clean. Maroon, red in the sea, Water is actually all I see. Refuse to leave, Refuse to see, Refuse to kneel. Amateur poet, do you hear me, What languages do you speak?
Gord
2024-10-09 05:35 am
What is blue all the way through? Very few things, one of them you. Just like neighbourhood maples, Who grew oversea, good natured, Booked a flight, made into paper. What's new? I changed, too... All the way to the roots. Well, a limb moves, the ring too, The tip of which is turning blue, What cures the sickness of wealth? Very few things, among them death, Worse is truth and active dis proof. Spruce and denim, Jus, ad bellum, In the end, they feel something too. Just not what the majority do. Red right to wage fights like war, Just as much as the admiral's blue.
Gord
2024-10-04 08:38 pm
Simply tell me, Simply tell me, Simpleton, weed, Between clenched teeth, Tension of three, from one. Petty... Pretty periwinkle. You wash your hands of disease, You never wash your hands of me. Like Adam kissed Eve, Rustling leaves, in the city, Not at the extremes. And make believe is more for cocaine users, Not people like me, Explore as many worlds as you see, You'll find in the end the colors are three. Plus, It might seem petty, But your shade is ultramarine. And it's shady people like you, That changes people's creed, Like a stringed needle, Pulled straight through teeth, It's not the pain they fear, It's the permanence you seek.
Gord
2024-09-19 08:15 am
If fights ensue, It's not of me, delights, or truth, So why stand beneath? At least in my mind the blue is me. What of peacocks in the spring? What of cheese in the crumbles? What of resolve and my shivering? Certainly, I can feel these things. It's not beneath me, Like red sees croplands, Like rubber and tarmac. Like green sees the sea: blue. Ironically, foolish for free verse. Traverse the world, but ask me, Just remove lines, write peace. Irish flute, life renews, Fights needs two, Then favour winning, Like red says to greens. I wish inside, though, blue remains. Enticing eyes, confusing wings, Flying, seems a bit childish to me, As does to peacocks in the spring.
Gord
2024-09-15 07:38 pm
In the courtroom: Pigs, blood, tofu, Minotaurs loose, Conflicts toward, Cold, gloom. Hospital wards, Admittance form, Logical words. What becomes more true in times of war? Ghosts, opinions that form a search for truth. Indigo, blue. Stitch up your wounds, harlot. Soon, the riddles will be about you. The courtroom, The boardroom, Cicero, choose: Which is for you? Indigo or blue, One million or two. What becomes true in times of war? Certainly not you, trials or support.
Gord
2024-08-09 08:57 am
Desert sun, august morning, Sky, a butterscotch orange. Amongst all things, concerns: For paintings are ownership... Hopefully drawings disappear, Wrap your body in animal skin. Put a brush to your wrist, Go ahead, spill, Color all over... Hopefully canvas appears. Yellow, what say of the sea? Hardcore, double crossing, frog, Croaking of dark forces and fear. An unarmed soldier, war over, Still fighting with the hayseeds. Oh, Is this why blue pervades me? All things amongst me here, Sidewalks get ownership, You pay, then worship on them. All language, being borrowed, Gives power to some lawyer. Oh, Is this why blue pervades me? Yellow, what have you made me?
Gord
2024-08-08 01:00 am
She walks the tightrope, Calm as the sea, God decides not popes, Nor who is to be, She decides. Death, I'm melting, Ice to the skin, white, I hope my red is ending. Where is my yellow, Beneath gangrene? And what is the blue, Something to never see? Death, I'm coming, Touch my skin, white, I know my time is ending... Tightrope walking, thin, This, is more of a kids thing... I think...
Lynn
2024-01-17 09:24 pm
though it has been so long, i have not forgotten you. i have searched for you among the crowded shelves of bookshops, the cobbled displays of libraries, the take-one-leave-one boxes scattered through town. i have dug deep in my jacket pockets for the notes and coins needed to take you home with me. i have cradled you close to me underneath my coat while i am waiting for the 6:58 bus. i have found you in tulip bulbs peeking above the soul for the sun, late august thunderstorms that pelted our new apartment, the january wind that brings ice and chapped hands. you have made sure your spine stands straighter when i roam through each aisle, saturated and dewey with books. you have pushed the dimes and nickels into my grasping fingers so that we may spend our time together that much quicker. you have squeezed me hard as we step off the bus at 7:34. you have flung yourself through the sky and earth to find me in the smallest of stolen moments. you kiss my hands and my head and flush them rosy with emotion. you have not forgotten me either, it seems.
Gord
2023-11-16 04:57 am
What was I to be? A hive of bees? I see. Time; clouds. Sky; crowns. Cries, foul: "I'm tied down." She said as I vied for relief. Time, dreams, Lies, deceit, "I'm drowning". Pleas, Screams of an ice house, Before it lies in the deep. Now... What am I to be? Composer of songs, Giver of feelings? What is high to a beast? Fire, disease. What is mine. Like piles at the keep, Rivals final meetings, Some spend life on things. I, much like a beast, Divide things in half, Decide, with a hand, rights to be. So, What was I to be? Probably nothing. Feeding my cows, starving, Alike to the sea. Some sing in the choir, Some sit in the seats. Some write, despite reason, Until, like an ice house, They find reasons to leave.
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
2023-04-12 05:23 am
Birth mother, Are you done in search of justice? From hunger the feeling lingers on, I want to be created equal, in three parts: My heart, my dreams, my thoughts. To stomach decisions these fingers long: How much must one muster? The war is over, the performance over, The opponent is dead and gone. He hears the fear in his voice, Drinks beer, balks, talk circles, Inside he looks awkwardly, Leers like a child at adults. 'Blood eater, what of your cuts? Is your search for freedom done? What is your word for love? Of people, of reason, Like earth, sun, One deserves better treatment, But worries when wonders gone.' Colonel, a third of your country, wrong. Fanciful fawns, thoughts prancing, Warnings: Songs bandied to a swan. Wanting nothing, wanton, famished, Like night always says to the dawn: Our prospects have long vanished. It's more self talk, silence in response, Dancing alone, along to the bombs that drop.
Gord
2023-04-03 02:50 pm
Young men see visions, Old men have dreams, His mind was troubled and he could not sleep. Body smeared in honey, Head to feet, conceit, Meant to be supreme, Yet not even complete. The sea, is free, comparably, Considering the moon, destiny. When you speak, Where you sleep, To others, it matters only where you scream. Meant to be, it's a funny thing, Next movie I hope you're next to me. Wild marjoram, fine novelists, Five dollar words, trite violins, Telling simple lies, promises. Yet when I saw the world, My heart stopped again, Eyes on a third of my providence.
Gord
2023-01-11 06:09 pm
A rabbit runs free, in the past, Toward nothing it finds meaning. Fish of streams, pivot teeth, Laughter, tongue chatter, sea. By the brine they find peace, And man, king of beasts. Man forms groups, Parts in two, like lips, The bartender and you. Glass tightly in a grasp, Like a woman's clasp, Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Like man, cash advanced, Wiggle dance, calls, Calls, nobody calls back. That man can run like a rabbit, Dance like a rabbit, Hears like a rabbit, Fears the language of diagrams, Candles and passwords. He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps, Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger. He tries to understand, too foolish in banter, Expanding his mind with standards that matter, His reaction barely examined, rather managed, Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins, What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing, Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.
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