Gord
2026-09-14 02:05 pm
Nostalgia, love of old, Ballads, jazz and soul. Like plants that grow, No matter of distance, Our roots are at home. Touched upon her form, Lasting, no fall or saddle, Forever, as if upon a horse.
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Gord
2026-07-28 01:02 pm
It's not about loneliness, I have partners to boast, It's not about holy text, I have no offer of hope. It's not a state of the world, It's the people, you know? Corresponding with Rome, They are taking us over, I have no offer of hope. And it's not about race or homelessness, It's not about great sorcerers, You see on screen at a show, It's about weakness of soul. It's about what you're willing to do, To offer them hope.
Gord
2026-02-07 03:00 pm
He persues love, Hapiness and a son. Three to two, two to one. Free to choose, One persues their roots, Freeform blues, cute girls, Until ruin, until dust. But upon the soul a velvet rust, Temples burnt to smell of blood. Umbrella terms, settlements, Lemon curd over skeletons. Free to choose, They choose but one.
Gord
2025-04-14 09:25 pm
Harvard comma, Lust for love, Concert, opera. Forward, onward, How can you find God? Gotcha, gotcha. Heartless monsters, Endless darkness, Falling, forgotten. Son, sing a sun song, Gone first are zombies, Long nights, falsehoods. Yet you sing on... How can you see their soul? Stare at the son. Love song, pub crawl. The scuff marks stay, People, rub off, then Pass away.
Gord
2024-07-18 04:48 am
Forewarnings, foreboding, more, of the same, More... For: wants, colors, change, can mean more, Foreign from yesterday, and for tomorrow. For you, though, it meant ropes, choking, No more prose, or poems about fucking, Though, for you I wrote a few of those. To cast a shadow like Gord's gamboge: Wars at home, wars at the coast, Wars over gold, wars over posts, What is war, when you fight it alone? Yellow mustard that stains your soul.
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
2023-09-17 07:37 pm
Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Like gawkers, ponders what they saw... 'Would you describe me, inside of a bar?' 'Must again, you make things be so hard?' 'Wasp, like I bumble about the pollen, Following a humble belief seems wanton, When you believe in things so violent and wrong.' Bird, quickly describes in simple songs, Big cities, things it saw in the puddle, Colors of war, bees that talk. Freedom, it sings, is also simple, One really needs not drift apart. The big screen, another big scene, It was mostly a facade... Balk, talk is talk, feeling in the dark, But most of what a bird said, lived on, Proper relief is upon the soul after all... So they write less of evil on the walls, In the sky, on maps or village carts. Against nothing, see the days beyond... I suppose those concepts are behind us. Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Is the city like a swallow, or like to swallow, and will he be the next one gone? Cause for alarm, make calls upon, Anything, but you lost the one. You love... Like a dog watching another sun set, More talk, another sun will rise again, Life for this bird is but more dogs. So like a coward, survives the storm, Shivering as they make their calls. Inevitably, to face the power lines alone.
Lynn
2023-05-12 09:32 pm
Sitting outside the shop on a cloudy May afternoon, my hand scrawls on the back of a receipt a list of the aspects of myself: - the moles in morse code down the side of my face ($4.99) - the scars on my leg in bumpy braille ($12.76) - the skin covering my knuckles, shining where it has split so many times over ($29.97, sale price) - the soul filled with self-loathing, boiling, bubbling over the rim ($10.19) - my spine, doubled over and bent backward ($17.22, CLEARANCE) - the effort I put into eject all but the smallest parts of myself as a collection of trinkets, an amalgamation of dust bunnies ($0.99) I must have picked these up, absentmindedly, through my time in the shop. Where can I put these back? I didn't want them. Why did I pay for them, pulling out my wallet in a daze? I never knew they existed. I must have entered a girl and left a much older woman. How long was I standing underneath the humming lights? I crumple up the scratch paper and toss it in the bin as the sun waves from the overcast.
Gord
2023-03-29 05:31 am
Swordsman, go home! Forests shall be no more, Our taste for war is gone, Favoured trees have grown. Nobles shall be no more, No new kings be proclaimed, Of all her princes, gone, Her world led astray. Open doors, open forms, Cold, Enourmous castles, Forts, or formal courtyards. Informal castes, people, Making walls, floors, or ceilings. It matters where you stand, to the boards. Suppose also, toward unknown, Battlefields always need a war, Despite reform, broken bones, Foreign loans, foreign ownership, Moral codes or mortal blows. For it heeds no appeal, Not even for their souls. Dinner for four, e un quarto However, foremost, they see trolls. A photo's floorboards, reasons for war. Yet they sit aside and hope for resolve, Fear in their heart they hope to ignore.
Gord
2022-12-14 05:28 am
Flesh under my fist, skin bare, Hair at my boots as I stomp and kick, Blood at the end of my tongue, My world is all that is. Lotus of petals, abundant. The manager says, like it is in the front. They just happen to be dead ones, Laced in platinum and cobwebs. Eyes for war and other nonsense, Fair, That their soul be unintentionally dragged in, Pious to only whores and other men.
Lynn
2022-08-17 02:15 am
here i lie (not yet asleep) in my childhood bedroom (my soul to keep) under my childhood quilt (made by my grandmother) holding my childhood cat (could there by any other?) and listening to the cicadas cry over (mourn) the loss of my sister (come morn) when she moves away (just to our college town) into her tiny, adulthood dorm (someday to wear a cap and gown) with her adulthood newfound friends(i thought it was just the four of us) and her adulthood future portends (why couldn't it have always been the four of us?) and listening to her professors drone on (just like the cicada) as she compiles reports, and essays, in jargon (raw data) and- and- and i wonder, will she miss me too?
Gord
2022-07-19 10:35 pm
Meaningless draught, meandering feeling, Bar talk, believe not the sweet whispering, Thinking things talked in the deep darkness, They aught, talk turns to action, They are what they are. Sinking stone, mephitic toad of the ocean floor, What does the heart wish for? Winning wars? Logistic growth? Cathartic revolt? Ownership? Satan, do you hear your kindred souls? Card or cash, is all they know. They see fawns freeze in the snow, and move on, it's things seen from a car. It's part of a laundry list of misgivings, They want what they want, They are what they are.
Melissa Davilio
2021-05-14 05:29 pm
The creaking of the pines elicits icy shivers, like steel fingers raked upon a naked spine, pine needles quivering like jagged splinters jabbed into desperate thirsty veins Slivers of pain, slices of sorrow, glimpsed through the gaping cracks between the bark, as stark winds whisper then wail weaving twisted tales of ennui and despair Oh, the horrors they have seen while the sun giggles and gleams from her corner of the forest peering from her perch amid the heavens, her cackles seep into the earth to settle among the dirt and the decay As the emerald canopy leads the lost souls astray through the labyrinth of decomposing leaves, corpses cast off from the trees, disrobing before the fastidious eyes of their maker, undertakers laying out their palls for the weak and broken to bear
Gord
2021-02-07 09:01 pm
Soul, devour me, Like happenings you accost, I'm happy now you've gone. Coal, empowering, Vikings clap, bugles call, Climbing walls, kind regards, A human heart finds us all, Claims to what Buddha was, But could it not? Where do I belong?
Knoble Kaller
2021-02-05 02:18 am
Babies and family and warm woolen mittens these are the things in which we are smitten. Sunlight and rain on my face all insane one patters one warms yet both matter the same. Porpoise and dolphin like gorilla and chimp similarities to cuddle yet don’t make good sense. Oh why are these thoughts so loud in my head of things that concern me and things that are said. Is my heart crying out and my logic repressing or is common sense keeping myself from undressing. Baring soul inner thought is scary at best when guessing who’s trustworthy or in whom to invest. Light of day brings rising clarity for each intense charity of ones mortal soul and the damning sobriety. So tortured inspired and desired the same within friendship and love and all things a flame. Now dry from the patter and warm by the fire to cuddle desire and wash off the mire for all the heart wants is all it requires and that my dear friend is all that must matter.
Knoble Kaller
2021-02-05 02:06 am
Rise oh sun oh immortal flame to wake the soul to play again. To run and dance and jump for joy and warm the hearts of girl and boy. Beam down your rays of healing light confirming natures pure delight and bringing forth more glee than blight no winter yet in this souls sight. May brilliant joy and exaltation be your gift and coronation leading toward the beach of plenty makes one feel like being twenty. Wish upon dream upon starry starry night. Let your spirit take its flight to one you’ll hold extremely tight. Embrace your dream with passion free exposing all intentional glee for daylight breaks and dawn reveals lovers heart… eternally.
Petar Kostadinov
2020-11-02 10:04 am
“Writers ———————- Have gentle souls Have a heart of a sunshine The one written word they paint From their lives with each brush in their hands The good times The bad times The treasured of times Their words are best told From its beginning to no ending They paint each season They create each reason They form each line As they stand even at the bus line As they wait for their train to arrive As they drive their car they must stop At the parking stop and quickly write Otherwise they will lose their track of Song they want to sing” (c)10/31/2020 by Petar Kostadinov
Innasense
2020-10-13 04:48 pm
If you Really Saw Me What would you do if I told you all my secrets? The ones pulled from deepest trenches, darkest corners. Scraped them like the drippings of my innermost self Onto your proverbial plate Would you push them all back? Demand a reverse regurgitation Of all that was ugly in me And pretend you never saw Would you sift through my soul? Stir a fork through all that is me, Looking for the parts you can use, Discarding the rest Would you shatter the plate against the wall? Shards of me on display for all to see, Lay me bare in front of the eyes of the world And laugh at the tears streaming red down my face Or would you love me just the same? As my inner enigma bleeds over the porcelain edges As you see all the sides unseen Would you smile at my uncloseted skeletons? Would you hold my empty vessel self and fill me with the light, the love, my soul needs? What would you do if I told you all my secrets?
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