Gord
2017-05-12 12:00 am
Dreams of the past float away, Tired dying in contemplation, Away from the fertile mates. Tomorrow's savior never stays, Often lying of false hopes, Those who bestay his ropes. Betrayed again. No whole boat exists, The sea depleted, Forlorn and pissed, True Scotsman brave it.
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Gord
2017-02-17 12:00 am
Cubs pride design to hunt, In parable, from a bird's eye, They sit upon rooftops, Chilling out in caste. Smoking weed and desiring, Maybe the future holds tomorrow, Tomorrow bring the last. Huns perspiring at American funds, Infinite systems of foreign gods. The Americans scoff, Savage preparing for battles cost, Yet they lost. Gold and all. Wasted bombs landed on land, Nobody was ever on. Intelligence of bitten tongues;
Gord
2016-12-12 12:00 am
Tomorrow is nothing but an intervention, Yesterday holding the true intention. Yet spend to stay powerful at the station, Your people power toward a cowards end, Politically investing on a shorter scale. Marking with pen and paper, clearing chambers, Tomorrow's makeshift inventions tooled on sale. As if someday a unicorn escaped their stable, Marked the day ideally we first fought in anger, Then paid extorted reparations as a gamble.
Mary Steffen
2016-07-03 12:00 am
Times of your life Tomorrow a new day You may slice things with a knife You have your own say Always forgive Do everything to live
Mary Steffen
2016-06-08 12:00 am
summer beginnings world changes within our soul a new tomorrow
The Sophist
2016-05-26 12:00 am
Deep in the forest Between pleasure and pain Screams are so violent Yet silence remains How often do you think of me? Or remember my name? Am I just a memory? Or do you ever think of me? Stridently hopeless Lotso' talk about games Stammers to silence There it goes again again How often do you think of me? Or remember my name? Am I just a memory? Or do you even think of me all? Tomorrow, if you picture it; Another chance to witness someone else's bliss And envy it And live your life in envying Green both in your mind and in your skin Clad in purple cloth worn to protect your sins And mourn the loss of love you stitched into it Around me I see Ghosts of a memory Smoke in the air I breathe A complete lack of energy Dogmatic discomfort Dogmatic disbelief Friends crushing my dreams Becoming the enemy I'm Building a fortress To honor my name To scream at the silence To wander in pain To wonder in fantasy Living each day the same Do you ever think of me? Or am I just a memory? Deep in the forest Between pleasure and pain Screams are so violent Yet silence remains How often do you think of me? Or remember my name? Am I just a memory? Or did you ever think of me at all?
Gord
2016-05-04 12:00 am
Tomorrow is a forever away, Lifelong insinuations of lame, Necessary arterial plague, Eventually he dies of it. If he asked for the sauce, Not just brought up on it, Did asked for the judgement? Or just to live?
Justan Mitchell
2016-05-03 12:00 am
Blue Beyond The Grey I sit and wander as I wonder what will the rest of the gloomy, yet blue beyond the grey may bring my way. I hope to be like the eagle with fully spread wings. And with rain, hail, snow or earth quake I'm ready to challenge what challenges the day brings. And I think she might like me today. And tomorrows mystery will be the adventure of it's time. The things I must endure others have endured by my many mishaps for over 30 years. So I'll be patient as I sit here and wander, wondering what the rest of today's gloomy, yet blue beyond the grey, will bring my way. Justan Mitchell Dangerous Soul Life
Gord
2016-01-18 12:00 am
Ever could I see the sun again, I would follow the sunset forever, Galloping on white horse in vain. Perhaps no trial is worth such fervor, Even if it passes as entertainment.
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.
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-05 12:00 am
A Week Away A week away A cottage in the Cotswolds Solitary single socks All in a line On parade Hands like hooks Feet that throb Barms and breezes In Blackpool Fortunes found and told Tramlines Scarring the seascape Soaring seagulls Hawk-like hands Flaying feet Seagulls that screech Mayhem in Mablethorpe Being Stumped in Boston As to which way to go Kiss me quick Squeeze me slow hats For edible orifices Wonka's Willies Trams travelling Towards the Tower And down the Golden Mile From Fleetwood North and South Piers Sandcastles Big and small Towards Town Postcard pictures Picture postcards Pencil drawings By computer The Mere at Marton Limousines And lycra-clad mirth-makers Mobster's metal machine Made from a Mini National Savings & Investments building Blocking the breeze And the light Standing in it's shadow Comfortable caravans Laughter from Leighton Jokes from Jamie Sparkling grape juice All the way from Grimsby Via the M18 Panoramic views From the highest motorway In Britain Deep dales High Pennine peaks In Yorkshire Rain and sunshine Traffic build-ups In Blackburn Blues in Burnley Families fighting Four-pint pitchers Of foaming ale Mussels and whelks Oysters and orange squash Cockles and crabs People driving Dangerously long miles Without falling faint Of fatigue Passion in the Pennines The castle moat Golden sands Tilting telegraph poles Going up And coming down Steep steps To silver sand Shorelines stretching As far as the eye Can see Whirling wind turbines Whitewashed windmills Scattered over the Northwest frontier Unfurled flags Flying furiously In a westerly wind Cod and curry sauce Pen'orth o'scraps And pots of mushy peas Wrapped in writing Mablethorpe Messenger Blackpool Gazette Cotswold Courier Yesterday's news Today's chip wrappers Tomorrow's waste. Dusti Rodes (2006)
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-04 12:00 am
Bayou Blues As I ramble through my sorrows, Drifting aimlessly, On Life's road that seems to me As being many miles too far. I'm living in yesterday's tomorrows. And seeing things as they rarely are. Dusti Rodes (2007)
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