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Gord
2016-02-02 12:00 am
The mired child, spoiled Mildly retarded by choice. Spends his days locked inside. Wishing wildly of days gone by, Punching the god of his desire, Cursing the men of his design. A life not spent fighting, as it appears to the self. Shuffled between arenas, Destined for the cell.
The Sophist
2015-11-24 12:00 am
Seal sutured my soul; To a body- a home. Come help make me whole. Self life spent alone. Warm bed 'side a warmer throne, Bed heats by its own. Ten times two is four. Ten times lack of effort, All effort is poor. Tax taken from pews, Poor unfortunate two, Camels; too large crew. To dust grind my bones, Tear open by strings my heart, Seal sutured my soul.
Gord
2015-11-03 12:00 am
Tragedy of the writer's, Self penned, Self authored, Pampered as law owners, Forlorn as a poet. God's handless write love letters unknowing, Upon a bench perched, seeing nothing odd, Lies to himself, creates really false. Did they not want drama, Or is non-compliance, fault?
The Sophist
2015-10-26 12:00 am
Dreams in retrospect viewed. No different than the rest when in viewing. Knowledge dissecting truth into smaller units. Methodological skepticism without self-refuting. Meditations doubting everything true in fake fables formed during youth, phantasming a demon by which we're utterly fooled. We goofed; trusted senses fool-proofed with no proof. Jiving to a wonderful groove. We lived in the exterior world; above my demon's roof. Your senses are lying, your dreams are not separate. Even your innermost thoughts are a ruse. Have a good night at work, while away the time brethren.
The Sophist
2015-08-07 12:00 am
I want to release. A rhyme about nobody, With no honest remarks, With no peace, For the days passed, I have lived, Learned regret. I am the reason for myself. Nobody makes my bed, If I don't make it for myself, The Sophist; The Thoughtless Beast.
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.
Gord
2015-03-03 12:00 am
Voice 6: Who plays Beethoven upon my door? Truly he be hooven and poor morally, For a husband just died in my arms. Knock not or at least form formally, For normally impatience is paid poor. Voice 7 (whispers): Quickly. Voice 6 answers the door abruptly. Voice 6: You were not to arrive until morning! There we could consummate cordially, Declaring our love in the afternoon; Could it be you interrupt my mourning, Because you could not go without me, And thus arrived in story too soon. Voice 7: I may have come too soon, But not over you, my love, Never have I had such pain. I request to have it again, For I feel such remorse, No man should be slain, Lest by hand of a horse. Voice 6: Quiet, Guards hear the whining of dogs, Horses not led by hand but by emotion? Worker of ideals, concepts and notions, Walking upon my silken floor in clogs; If disgust in yourself is your only sin, Can disgrace be upon an innocent facade?
Gord
2015-02-18 12:00 am
Voice 6: Voice 5: Impart not, depart impassioned. Skirt not around the main subject, Constrict yourself within contract, Remain slack, what remains lacks. Often gold is only plated brass. Voice 6: Massive injuries cost my crawl, A future gone, Even barring expectation, I could bawl tragic. Should Atlas drop the ball, Just expecting God catch it? I want no tricks nor magic. Voice 4: There shall be no magic, silly tricks or dancing, Only men upon a battlefield. Some dead, some laughing. For if you could take a life, I could take a life. Only without procrastinating. I will bring a squire only, No men will hold you down, Assuming no-one eviscerates me, only father shall go to town, my final wish being a canary.
Gord
2014-09-05 12:00 am
A cell is the only home I've ever known, Ad hominem, myself, let you down, I know. A child dreams of life in a home, with love, Only way of attaining goals is selling drugs. My father was a bad influence growing up, His father was a bad influence, when he was growing up, Now that I've grown up, I've decided to be one myself. The Phoenix Rises again, To be condemned to a cell.
Gord
2014-09-05 12:00 am
Slane Girl I wish I were Giving head to my peers All these feelings ecstasy brings Lack of self control teenagers portray No ecstasy feelings linger No hand from my peers Wish I weren't Slane Girl
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
A generation mugging for the camera, Ban them, Have all their shows cancelled. Fight their right to put life at a stand still, Investing in communes of every-day shills, Pushing brands in their hands while they're dancing on pills, What have you to say if they're killing themselves? Porcelain dreams putting dirt in the well, Laptops so hot they deplete all their cells, I believe this is better than hell, A step above; Below everything else. I believe we can rise above self. Rather than die just help everyone else; Setting up systems to help after death. I'm reading from cues I'll admit. There's someone else there; He can't write; I can't think; I'm too dumb; He's too quick. A perfect man split. Think, think, I need another answer, Before this beauty becomes burden, An innovation longing for the grammar.
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
2014-08-25 12:00 am
New day intrinsically. Prone intrinsic sleep, A world so strange, It mocks the sane, Or so it seems to be, As two arrange for three, Plan the day, Hours wane, So one can live in peace, Intrinsic wake so suddenly, Search for cables in a rage, Time is locked away. Twenty minutes after three, Moon falls soon from the trees, Longing for to stay, Now not time for play, I clean myself and peace, Work for eight or so at least, Bike home, Bus if there is rain, Smoke a bowl then meditate, One by one prepare the feast. Deranged I aim to vaguely please, People bitching in my face, Keeping up a steady pace, Intrinsically return to sleep, New days for eternity.
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.
Gord
2014-08-13 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.
The Sophist
2014-08-08 12:00 am
First I make suggestions, Then I make demands. With my hands I teach you lessons, Beat you with affection, Bleed in my perfection, Military dance. I've never felt so much, Bliss in my life, With my knife cut a grudge, Head off with a touch, Headlong in my hutch. Present for my wife. I call this self expression, Pissing in my pants, With my rant cause indigestion, Racist in intention, Hostile when I'm questioned, A laugh I think is grand, Apostates cut in sections.
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