Blake Garner
2020-09-12 06:42 pm
You would not believe your eyes If you seen all the dark thoughts, I keep at tide inside my head If only that was true, I can no longer control these racing thought, I'm a danger to myself I've succumb to pain, I've felt numb for too long I inflict pain to just feel something, Thoughts constantly racing Never a chance to think straight, I've found a healthy affliction In the pain I inflict upon myself, I can feel it now Like cardiac arrest, The slip of the chair The tension around my neck, Ill try my best, The pull of the blade Against my wrist, I've been trying my best How much do I invest, Before its all over No longer numb, My Demons They catch me when I slip, Motor control loss Mindless acts, Just a permanent solution To a temporary feeling, Exactly how long is temporary All i want is for this living nightmare to be over, These demons consuming me alive Fighting is no longer a solution, Don't stop me now I know now noone would shed a tear, Noone would shutter a sound To stop me, Forget yesterday I dont wanna see tomorrow, Remember when you told me That I was better off dead, I knew it from the start I was never any good to anyone, You can believe it When im not here tomorrow, Today I find something great Today I find a Healthy Affliction.
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Gord
2020-07-24 11:56 am
Comments on a blog, On and on, continuous, Could this be but bots? How can hate be a ball? All along, perspicuous, Archaic in its tongue. Accompany a structured song, Another composition common, A company not lacking lustre, Just backing something wrong. I adjust warm muffins, Until the tops come off. Butter, cinnamon, I adjust my jaw, Until flavortown, I judge my ignorance, Could this be god?
Gord
2020-06-18 02:23 am
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
Gord
2020-06-06 10:52 am
Diablo II, Why make me wait for games? My fate lament, give it away, Give it away, give it away now. Fleas of the carpet, People of the parking lot, Can you not? Trying to make something, They stand about, puffy, Chests golden, coffers copper, Rusted in their velour valor, Failing to soil of fewer flowers.
Gord
2019-05-08 07:59 pm
Courage at last, my heart be closed, Would a tap of emotion be more apropos? Cold alack in a world of clothes, Told: Dress myself more appropriate, My moment is now and I'm blowing it. Could it be at last, my heartbeat thuds, One claps along, misunderstands the words, I'm told I owe an explanation, for those, For they were written bitter and old. So? that's how they turned out, spoiled, Characters, write their life in whole, Much like something serpentine coiled.
The Sophist
2018-09-28 07:10 pm
Unfocused (not soulless or goalless). I smoke spliffs to get my mind off this list of frustrations. Intimidated by outrageous race racing, flaming faggots nigger-bait while still claiming that they win (but the win's painful). The wind is still unstable. My win is a long table with nothing on it surrounded by fables. "Nothing comes from nothing, Son," 'cept Miracles and Bagels, two billion silent men in four billion different conversations, but know thyself and when you're asked just say that you know nothing. Winter's gone and spring is here The hummingbirds are humming I think I'll make a song today, Son I'm feeling something I'm feeling something.
The Sophist
2017-10-06 06:55 pm
There's just 22.5 degrees Not from the bottom to the top, but In between Doing nothing and incomplete Being at the bottom Pushing Gord in the swing.
Avreen
2017-07-07 06:24 am
I sat under the tree glancing nearby, hoping to find someone who could see me cry. Dreaming about a happier place, I stood up and walked speeding up my pace. I saw a girl sitting on the green bench looking as if trying to hide, Just like me maybe no one was there by her side; and with loneliness surrounding and head down she suddenly looked up gazing around. Seeing her face, I turned back in trauma and saw something which I could never forget "Why do you look back? This agony and pain ruined my life Its about that rain of acid which turned my cheerful life into a life so vapid". With tears all gone, I held her head high "there is no need for you to cry." You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and I am not lying because I totally mean. All punishments for the guilty are too small, it is now time for him to fall. I then realized that in this world of misery and sadness, there is a lot to see Even the acid victims have the right to live just as a common girl like me.
The Sophist
2016-11-17 12:00 am
It's you I want I just mean Do it Want me I'll scream Drown them More feelings Of wanting Longing For something Aloof Trot of the hoof Fall from the floor Land on the proof Smile at the whore Missing her tooth Trying to score Good times with the roof Ease to cool her Down and pass out Songs of abusers Speaking of peace Echo through darkness Then she falls asleep For something Standoffish I just mean It you whose the problem Not me I just solve 'em I can't be wrong 'Cuz I'm peaceful And honest And a really chill guy If you don't mind me talking At lengths just to show I'm not racist I'm mocking Their race 'Cuz it's funny Not Angry Just Loving That Pain From Above Automatic Dark static Creatures of habit Throwing outrage around Myself I won't have it Outraged at myself Myself never planning To be holed in a cell Living under you bandits You won't have it yourselves Yourselves being outraged At all of yourselves For all of your work Education and health Yell at your brothers Strangers Mothers Escaping from hell By throwing dirt At the world Insurmountable selves By the billions All with a version of self I'm doing it now Laying a seed To expand And develop I mean I just want to scream These guys I girl dog about I'm mad 'Cuz I'm me
Gord
2016-07-12 12:00 am
In his future he sees tired coughing, But the seer mundane usually finds nothing, Only peering back upon seared meat, Apparently to be, or feel something. Caravans of the sky desire furniture, Of which the past robbed the future, Paradigms of the mind flipped suture, Lying prone as a feat of nature.
The Sophist
2016-03-21 12:00 am
After everything I see Before me in the seats Cynics in the streets Dissecting the diseased Everything I see Finding something to believe Giving credence to contrarians Heretic as it seems I laugh Just trying to fit in Kidding like a kid Laughing Making them believe Nothing as it seems Only people watching People watching leaves Quietly in peace Raging afterwards Sighing in relief Totally alone Utterly at peace Vexed with my existence Waiting patiently Xeroxing mentally Yakking at the internet Zoning out on poetry
The Sophist
2014-09-25 12:00 am
Decay and the rifle alone. Censored by Gods as cold winter snow passes men stuck in glop as it blows. Who knows? What the fuck does a soul call a home? Accepting ideals without gloves being shown. Refuting belief but still knowing that something transcends all of time, space, math, and the know-how. Gloating but feeling in pain for lost souls turned wayward, corrupt, or depraved by the fallout. Take it in, as it turns out, by talking in strides with the crowds. Softly speak glop when it counts. Slowly speak up, and never speak out.
The Sophist
2014-09-04 12:00 am
Both sides support reform, God I feel dumb, Then I go back to watching porn, That still too is dumb, Ah, ugh, I'm wracking my poor brain, Surely nothing can be done, If something clearly is insane. Begone to the pits of apathy, Where men are fighting to succeed, Be free from binds which binding me, Lead me blind to blind society. Truth be told it would be great, To record sounds and meditate, Without hoping to get paid, Ad space isn't free, We pity ourselves if ads are sent to peace. We sent our brothers off to war. Speaking of the fun; Fighting for a rival hoard. Dying in the sun; Pierced by a brother's sword. Ah, ugh, I'm wracking my poor brain, Thieves thieved some time for fun, Our heroes appearing more and more depraved. To share the same disease, Tortured through our dreams, To decay among the trees, Torment; a short and brutish piece, Yet all of it is great, Bleeding essence every day, Alderson loop of disjunctive melodies, Existence sings in remedies, Never will the tempest ease, Yet underneath there lay a silent tone, Arranging scattered harmonies.
The Sophist
2014-04-22 12:00 am
The Ninety Nine Percent? Represent yourself and fuck majority, Fuck sitting in a tent, Fuck sitting in an era, Where lives are fucking spent, In jails within America, The Other One Percent. They rot while you prepare, Let it die, And try again. Go get high, And find a pet, In the whole world's seven bil', The Land of Free's three fifty mil', The Liberated Five percent, Something there disturbs me still, In jails there's ten times seven mil'. Metal barring concrete tents, The Captive; Occupying One Percent.
The Sophist
2014-03-31 12:00 am
Sit back and listen as appassionata plays, Something fires from a musical regatta, Emotion lingers on for days. Simple sounds service not his fingers, All basic math retold and forgot, Something more than strings and levers. Some more than Beet and Bach.
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