Gord
2026-09-01 06:24 pm
I was there in the hospital where you gave up, Was it impossible? Like you said so? Did happiness come? I think something awful of what you've become, Was it nice in the calm, like you said so? Did you find love? Did you find anyone? I wish I had died, both then and all along, Like a knife and be less subtle, Push inside, until bone and break it off.
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Gord
2026-07-04 12:09 pm
Beneath the heather, Under her breath, Behemoth... Never. But demons forever: Dreams of perfection, Peaceful agendas, Deeper connections, Traded for equal attention. You always had mine forever, Free from aggression, Free from unpleasance, Free from pretending, Free happiness forever. That's not what you want? Beneath a sweater, Under her breath, Again, another. So she says, Free from justice ever, When it comes to affection. So she never opens up, Free, of attendance, Free, hand percussion, Free, for jackals and buzzards, Until they see something better.
Gord
2026-06-30 05:49 am
Grumble, mumble, crunch. A stubborn muscle, Says one brain, One to the other. In a world of abundance, I chose cannabis subculture, Not getting high, Just shut the fuck up, And go away. Younger brother lost, I guess in a world full of lexicon, You never expect a clown like me To insult and beg them on. In a world full of choices, I always chose but one. I would never again lose something, That means so much. I love you, despite being gone. I love you, despite weak response, Despite my still beating heart, Like my blood had been robbed. In a world full of choices, I always choose but one. I would never lose again something, That means so much.
Gord
2025-09-17 06:41 am
May I judge? The chaos comes, Under veil of doves, not weight problems. May I judge? Love is based on trust, Something you know nothing of, Like plain hard work and using gloves. Broken promises, safe guarded, Imitation artist with an imitation father, Imitated marble walls to floor, How are those games you play at home? May I judge? The chaos comes, Not in the break ups, it's there all along. Eighty dollars for a game cartridge. May I judge? Are the games you play fun? What about friendship, was it there all along? Under a veil of doves, a veil of darkness, Changing promises, a raging monster.
Gord
2025-08-20 06:12 am
When does Autumn become most cold? Just before it leaves, something more on the way to change the world. I am the minotaur, Harvester of stone, Holder of an axe of war, Pauperism, growth. Problems in the code, Problems with the board, It matters not, I guard the door.
The Sophist
2025-07-20 12:02 am
We're turning up the lights. We're not blacking out tonight. Cuz anything that's under half of one percent is a Sober Sip to me. We're going to party, we're not drinking lagers, we're not drinking ciders, we party to hard on those 5 percent beers and I can't remember anything. When the beer's too hard I black out and I can't remember anything. I have come here to this song to start a revolution. At the corner store for $3 we can get something stronger. If we act quickly, tonight we can drink 7% guarana. Doors close at 11 but it's already ten and I want to get faded. Tonight is a Revolution. A night that we'll never forget. Last night was fuckin' lit but I can't remember shit. Fuckin partied way too hard then blacked out from the doorway to the car. Last thing I think we did was have some Sober Sips. Fuckin partied way too hard then blacked out in the doorway of the bar.
Gord
2025-01-30 03:50 am
Remember that night, when you came out as gay? Well I remember you saying you victimize women, Saying your ex girlfriend's pussy stinks, Knowing we might be a common friend. Not that you care, it's not about yourself, That's why you have domestic violence charges, That's why you have domestic violence charges, That's why you will hang yourself in a closet. Remember, when you talk to me, you talk to an artist, Remember that night, you talked to me hostile? Well I remember that every time I saw you, Saying your ex girlfriend's pussy stinks, Knowing we might have common friends, Knowing this is something I'm going to address, Not that you care, it's not about yourself.
Gord
2024-11-06 06:52 am
Rose gold chrome horns, Like cardboard clothes, Cold, associates sorrow, Unworn, uneven tomorrow. So bow your head forward, Lift yourself up, divide me whole. I stand naked before you, Like I play with hands both, Like I tap, dance, as a show, I do for all you know, I suppose. Upon her form, both hands, Avacado toast, buttery bread, Guitar solo overtop the prose, Alcohol in her mouth, floor, Softcore porn, popcorn snow, Relationships in rondo form. I just wish I knew something more.
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
2024-08-08 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...
Gord
2023-01-05 06:49 am
Sickle swing into the grass, Thinking of pictures, gifts, Hoping they still persist, Hopes for more than past. Head in the clouds, riddles, Under his cap, a fickle thing. Sickle swing the earth and drag, He touches her breasts and legs, Permitting his heart fleeting To consider something risqué.
AI poetry
2022-12-19 04:47 am
There are chunks in that soup, and cubes, Mashed potatoes in there somewhere too. All around me, the café's chatter: The onion has a story to tell And the broth, of course, is not merely gone, It has been completely transformed. In the shadow of the dark glass, I see my friend's eyes smile at me. My sister has written this poem As a way to explain something She cannot easily say aloud. After the last stanza, She writes the line "We never lose our past selves." This poem is an Articial Intelligence re-interpretation of "Flesh, Pt 1" by Gordon Haggerty.
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.
AI poetry
2022-12-07 04:31 am
The wind whispers to my skin, It's like it speaks with every breath. As if it has been calling out for my presence, Waiting to see the face behind this mask. So far it has shown nothing but disdain, And I wonder if I have anything left to give. In darkness I wander, With nothing but my memories Falling, falling, falling. Where once I saw light now lies only gloom, And I know that it has gone. For those who wish for rest, I have none Though I'd give up what I have, for one more. But it's too much now, I can't move my hands, I just want to sleep... (My memory, it fades) In the dark, with nothing to grasp, The memories that I hold so dear Fall away from me like they were never there. And I feel as though I will fall into madness, Like the very world is crumbling beneath my feet, That everything is crashing down, I fear I cannot stand the weight. (I'm fading) I just want to sleep... (My memory, it fades) *** I'm afraid I've gone and made a fool out of myself again, I knew you wouldn't understand my reason, And now you're not talking to me at all, You see I didn't mean to let your memory fade, It's like I was being pulled away by another force, Something I didn't mean, something I can't control, I don't even know why I'm still here... I don't know why I'm still here. I should leave this place, I know it's wrong, I shouldn't be here in your mind, I can't help the way that I am, I don't know why I'm Super Mundane, I can't stop feeling so low, I'm afraid it's already too late. I didn't mean to let you slip away, But the thought of losing you just doesn't sit right, To keep you awake and alive, I need you here, I'm not alone, Without you here with me I can't go on, I don't know why I'm Super Mundane, I don't know why I'm still here. I didn't mean to let you slip away, I just can't shake this feeling, That something inside of me is broken, I don't know why I'm Super Mundane, I don't know why I'm still here. This poem is an Articial Intelligence re-interpretation of "Super Mundane" by TheSoftSophist
AI poetry
2022-12-07 04:15 am
Towards evening, the island's in silhouette, Dark trees line the beach and the cliffs at water level. Ripples of light ripples shimmer on the sea. Distant whales make a low moan or grunt. Anchor chain groans and creaks from the boat. They sit in silence, then share a long kiss. Beside them the ship rocks gently on the waves. The captain draws a sigh as he drinks his ale. Then down into the darkness, the depths, To where the sharks prowl, where the dolphins swim, Where the whales sing their songs. And the hunters will go to find them. *** Whale hunt, that's what it was about, The whale, the whale. The hunt, the hunt. What did you want? Just something to do. This poem is an Articial Intelligence re-interpretation of "A Handfull of Pennies" by Gordon Haggerty
Lynn
2022-03-23 11:45 am
I smear vaseline in the corners of my mouth with a cotton swab to seal the cracks that are carved there from smiling too wide from laughing too loud from speaking my mind. I smudge the nails on my hands with paint, pearlescent and pink to keep from moving to keep from creating to keep from fully living. I confine myself to an apple and egg whites each day to mold by body into what I see in waiting room magazines into what it was when I was a child into something impossible. how futile, it seems, to meter my joy, to suppress the wind. because, when one tries to obstruct what rightfully will pass, it gains strength, channels down one slim canyon, and blows everyone away.
miherseed
2021-04-27 11:03 am
the santan dew crawls out of the stalk if you break it apart from the bush suddenly it burns brighter than dust small grand doors tiptoed to kiss their frames held by hinges, but try to reach north alas, their fates are back and forth there’s a somnolence to homes that are not yours holed with metaphors you never explored to tell your throat is for similes or possibly something else i wonder if wells hear wishes or if they are mere echoes of aired fulfillment perhaps that’s why the well water only gets to see the sky even if i bury my fingers beneath the soil, i am no root. even when i draw lines on the sand, i make no shore.
Innasense
2020-10-10 09:54 pm
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
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