Gord

2015-03-12 12:00 am

Voice 1:

Voice 3 best friend. 
Not a yes man but extremely loyal.

Voice 2:

Wife of voice 3. 
Frail and cautious, loyal.


Voice 3:

First protagonist, rival of the first 
antagonist, husband of voice 2. 
Cautious but extremely loyal, very wealthy, 
especially in comparison to his friends. 
Initially friendly with voice 5 until 
the death of voice 4.

Voice 4:

Brother of voice 1, 
good friend of voice 3. 
Foolhardy and Quick to fight.


Voice 5:

King of a very small kingdom. 
Comparable wealth to voice 3. 
Foolhardy and loyal.


Voice 6:

Wife of voice 5, 
secretly the main antagonist, 
posing as a frail woman.


Voice 7:

Second husband and lover of voice 6. 
Regretful and contemplative, 
but loyal and easily manipulated.


Voice 8:

Antagonistic philosopher who uses his 
inherited fortune to travel and does as he wishes.
 Disloyal yet foolhardy and quick to fight. 


Voice 9:

Right hand man of voice 8, foolish 
and easily manipulated by voice 8 
and his false philosophy. 
Extremely polite and intelligent on his own,
 but loyal to his friends foremost 
in front of them.

Gord

2015-01-29 12:00 am

Voice 1
[name] lies slain, with no equal,
Peerless upon the battlefield;
No sword could cleave, 
No arrow shot could find peace,
Only freedom.
Now only the beast remains free,
Feasting upon our arrows' fleeting;
Damage so immense, I see no fleeing,
Alas, only further death.

Voice 2
Begone, for I fear not cancer.
[name] does not meet demands;
Will being not to die as asked of.

Voice 1
Cannot a voice reach thy ear?
Cannot a man be slain by sword,
Common for the man of little fear?
A million miles lies between us.

Voice 2
My man does not fight to falter,
Nor sing songs of issue paltry,
Yet, alas, at last I hear him not.
Only cheers of men which he fought.

Voice 1 exits.

Gord

2015-01-28 12:00 am

Part the hanging gardens,
All found there is song,
Dogs, frauds and Sean John.

Apart from obvious tone,
Birds clamor to sing along.
Screaming from bottom o'lung.

Risks taken, Praying prone.
Laying open with only hope.
Hopefully a prayer is answered,
Pampered enough to count to atone.

The Sophist

2015-01-21 12:00 am

You know that you listen,
To the heart of my soul,
Beating harder and whole.
Hole deep darker than coal.
I give my volition;
To this part of my role.
Any home is my prison;
When I lack the control.

Gord

2015-01-16 12:00 am

Seeking refreshment,
Dire wolves present,
Ready to gnaw.
Gnu society is buried along.
String pulled taught,
Ropes around throats,
Strings play onward,
Despite what they're taught.
An uproar of laughter occurs,
Society of horse-eaters,
glue-makers, wearing fresh wigs.
Pigs remaining adorned in powder,
Guns pointed, son anointed, 
Appointed afterward as God,
Society of brow-beaters,
As if word meant nothing either,
Society of Shakespearean clods.

The Sophist

2015-01-06 12:00 am

Hey ladies;
Why so shady?
Y'like my style?
Y'hate me.
Meaning rape me;
Via meager dating.
Eager taking,
O'fore a day's fading.
Y'kno'wha'm sayin'?
Y'crazy,
I'm'a take o'for a day or so maybe.
To bomb you with aggression;
Guinness, Jameson, And Bailey.

The Paraffin One

2014-10-01 12:00 am

Tragically the adolescence columbine,
Society takes blame for outlier.
Yet take no blame for the combine,
Priority is lost to class tier.
Yet they see no problem, all is well.
As long as one future desire's feces,
Vast open fields with enemies to fell,
Yet they see no problem in our species,
Masking an issue too virtuous to kill.
The children need guidance,
More knowledge and less grades.
For man is always capable of buoyance,
Only starting of poor knowledge in trades.

Perhaps they missed the lessons available,
Perhaps the guidelines made them incapable.

The Paraffin One

2014-09-25 12:00 am

Empty Silence tops a rattle of chain,
A whores horse then tries to evade.
To no avail, assailants fear no pain.
Those that must then ply their trade.
Grasping flail, to no avail legitimate,
For none is literate in God.
Often assumption made inconsiderate,
For law cares not if grass is sod.
That said, what lies here is often not.
Opinion tends to be but a clod tempest,
Consensus leaning toward an insane plot,
Mass opine religion of uneducated priest.

Green reds now shake with blue collars.
Only masons of insured welfare collard'.

The Paraffin One

2014-09-18 12:00 am

Classlessly the entire generation asks,
Perchance who is to breathe this air?
Perhaps they know not of gasses,
How easy they are to acquire, wherever.
Why not just call someone a thief?
Why not a liar, or simple cheat?
For selling someone a leaf,
Calling gold that found among peat.
Couldn't ignorance be but a plea?
With no common ground to stand,
Everything you see marketing fleas,
Ticks suddenly drop in market demand.
Concept, is a concept if you understand conception.
The epitome of tomorrow claim they never got the lesson.

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.

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

My mother thought that being silent was smart.
This is why I spent days in the dark, 
bed-crazed and my heart sobbing. I was 
ignorant of light blocked by goblins of my 
mind hoping to keep me trapped in the land of 
forgotten. Now I'm plodding; plotting my escape
daily to find peace whopping, lock it with me 
in a coffin and die flopping; watching my life 
pass before my eyelids drop and my chest 
begins rocking. It's like trainspotting or 
going yachting; either way it's going to cost 
me, and either way I'm rotting. I like to 
believe this is my personality popping, but I
also believe that everything I do's common. 
I'm not smart, I'm not witty, in wealth I'm not
sopping. I'm not silent, and I pity the poor 
for their problems. I'm not here to cheat 
people or shit on their knowledge. Prithee a
moment where people aren't thoughtless; prithee
a moment to claim a few losses for a man who
silent misfortune made solemn.

Gord

2014-08-21 12:00 am

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.

Gord

2014-08-21 12:00 am

I innocently sat sidelined,
While sidewinder missiles,
Blackened and filled the sky.
They saw no oversight.

Then calamity, personnel,
Call out and rome fell,
The claim don't prose well.
Well, I suppose they don't.
But I never was no poet.

The Sophist

2014-08-15 12:00 am

Not alphanumeric,
Nor any form patternic,
Method for the people,
Persons sans generic patterns.

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.

The Sophist

2014-08-07 12:00 am

Don' be 'fraid just don' come back.
Don' plan attacks on modern days.
They don' like us 'cause we're free,
If "free" means happily enslaved.
Raped every day but with a smile,
Hostility like Abu Ghraib,
Graves stone but a worthless trial,
We might as well carve frowning faces,
Omit names and write words only in dirt.
There just write "fags".
"Junior pupil at a private school nailed by
 nerds."
Then just laugh at it.
Muslims aren't depraved,
Lennon even spoke at large of living in a bag.
It's freedom in a way,
Think about it,
Living without caste,
Judged only by your spoken word sans judgement
 'pon your face.
They sort of make a case,
I'll even take it off if you can find a private place,
It's just less of a disgrace.
To think my mid-pubescent beard could not  
 effect my fate.
Ignoring shit we hate,
We could probably find a pace that we can all 
 relate.
Chill music but still rocking in your face,
Fat bowl of potato dill salad I created.
Personally, I like war with lots of laughs;
It can be great.
Nothing personal, but I'll crack 'spic and
 nigger jokes all day.

The Sophist

2014-07-30 12:00 am

Yawn,
A boring thought,
Moving on.

Blah,
The time we've fought,
Force mignon,
For nei' were strong.

Plod,
Reason/not,
Such are battles,
Which we ought,
Discard to dogs,
Trained to chew them.

Humdrum,
Through coral caught,
Stone filled satchels,
Path danger fraught,
Mind's a fog,
Not mad at you though,
I'm only mad duly.

Doldrums,
I wish it would stop,
I'm mad at myself,
For letting this rot,
I'm not just licking frogs,
My croak at the moon shows,
I only care truly,
If you care about you.

Pedestrian,
Living life at the top,
Panopticon cell,
And fuck is it hot,
But we sit writing songs,
I croak at the moon slow,
We make a pair fool-ly,
Sympathetic,
Two lives out of tune,
At different ends of the spectrum,
Beauty ensuing.

Apostates to our parents' dreams,
Too old for pride, 
But maybe peace.
We'll love in long strides,
A boring thought,
Despite defeat,
We still move on,
Lows bolstering highs,
Finding new regimes.