Gord
2026-06-18 03:06 pm
I never wanted in your crowd of clowns, White facing, red around the mouth. Red upon the head, Laughed at by the town. It's either powder now, or power down. Also guys to date, Hands to guide her down, Lyrics about Rape, and cries fowl. I never wanted to be a mouthpiece, Or spit on by a coward. Cheered on by the crowd, Toward a violent outcome. Injection of faith, Truth, silent about H, Without the vowel sounds, Expressing your rage. I never wanted to look the same, Jacked up retard dancing on stage, Also guys to shame, Amelia Earheart is on the way.
0
Gord
2026-03-07 03:51 pm
Where are all your pyramids? You stole my stones... Took my providence. What is a question for? Social dominance? Well stole upon my virulent, Conspiratorial penis and balls. So, stay as born, fisherman, Given, you play with your rod. No limericks or inwardness: Gibberish over impulses, Sickness, et al. Toward the emptiness I fall, Spheres and phallic symbols, Cheers, and then applause.
Gord
2025-07-03 04:18 pm
You get 'get well soons' But lost one of the duo, Best friends, adieu. In the end, no hero, Ones turn toward zero, Just like one turns to ego, Just like people grow old. For, somewhere over a rainbow, Are untold highs, I'm told.
Gord
2024-09-15 07:38 pm
In the courtroom: Pigs, blood, tofu, Minotaurs loose, Conflicts toward, Cold, gloom. Hospital wards, Admittance form, Logical words. What becomes more true in times of war? Ghosts, opinions that form a search for truth. Indigo, blue. Stitch up your wounds, harlot. Soon, the riddles will be about you. The courtroom, The boardroom, Cicero, choose: Which is for you? Indigo or blue, One million or two. What becomes true in times of war? Certainly not you, trials or support.
Gord
2023-12-08 05:14 am
The things he knows...
Are alike a hand that speaks in failure:
Painful flails, an esophagus.
While his mouth speaks toward disarmament,
and victims speak of the night.
So all hail the king, his rings and his might.
All the things that he owns,
Including the people as items, options
and things he derides.
So swing a knife, like a sword.
All hail the flailing arm for what it's worth,
Including the people he knows as thoughtforms and cites.
Cayenne pepper, nose.
A world alight.
A world, delight.
A wordly delight.
A world, a light,
Circles dance in the sky,
darkness seen with your eyes.
Alongside carmine, red and feathers:
prose, things they call wise
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
2023-01-11 06:09 pm
A rabbit runs free, in the past, Toward nothing it finds meaning. Fish of streams, pivot teeth, Laughter, tongue chatter, sea. By the brine they find peace, And man, king of beasts. Man forms groups, Parts in two, like lips, The bartender and you. Glass tightly in a grasp, Like a woman's clasp, Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Like man, cash advanced, Wiggle dance, calls, Calls, nobody calls back. That man can run like a rabbit, Dance like a rabbit, Hears like a rabbit, Fears the language of diagrams, Candles and passwords. He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps, Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger. He tries to understand, too foolish in banter, Expanding his mind with standards that matter, His reaction barely examined, rather managed, Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins, What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing, Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.
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
Gord
2021-08-11 03:20 am
To know of monsters: They grow onward, One grows tired, Any failure untoward, Monster violent in concert. Even at a bargain, Bartering culture is nonsense, Gossip is gossip, Commerce is commerce, A monster concerned, With wandering darkness', finds himself lost, At last he is honest.
Ell
2021-03-14 06:42 pm
I feel like an empty vessel cast away The only thing that hits my hull is the slap of a choppy wave I have no crew on board they all found the challenge to much The cargo I have is overflowing from deep within my hull The milk has soured & the whey of the milk is all I am able to smell I once was loved in such a way, the strength of it filled me up I know it is hard to see not that I am old & withered up The way she pulled me towards her, like there was always a rope connecting us The feeling this gave to me is far too much to describe I know that is is hard to see now that my ropes have frayed away The sails are saggy, no wind will fill them up My rudder seems to be broken, around in circles is the only way it goes I fill with dizziness, that is all too much & reminds me of the day the love went away I know I will never dare love again, this old hull can not handle it all again So I will keep going in circles seeing the same thing There is no joy, no crew to fix me up. The old milk, in the old vessel has been left on its own The stench will never leave.
Gord
2021-02-22 12:47 am
For Mayor, for payment, For wages, forced labour, For most run four bases, For patience, no basis. Road changes like young brains, Record-breakers, the role favours; Horses race toward old age, and the coast as it fades; Full weight behind the sail, Like regulation of the state, Your neighbour, Your patron, Afford bravery for faith, While some live, agate, Judge races from inside of a cage.
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.
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.
Lynn
2020-03-10 12:49 pm
Concept: I am a shooting star, crumbling and burning and falling and falling and falling Don't go back to sleep. Insomnia: faded lipstick, new blues, and morning sea glass. Don't go back to sleep. The summer heat has faded into fall. An autumn picnic in the park— I will love myself despite the ease with which I lean towards the opposite. The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep.
Gord
2018-12-07 12:28 pm
Lately, I write universal, Rody Walker disapproves: "I see through you, Ethereal, feigning too close, To touch a virtue. Oh, feeling, careening mostly, Posts passing, tongue lashings, More dashing, floor, gas pedal, More dashing, more dashing, One says, like a clause." Platinum ring, yet, Heart diamond, set. What's happening, please, Forget my misdeeds, luck, A hat in a ring, belts, One generation fights back, Another fights against. Poetry succinct, mispelled, Written on cocktail napkins, Waitress dismayed and going, Thrown to a well indistinct, Dreams worth more than coins, More than love or poinsettias, Less two roses that grow together. At least, If I throw my feelings, Into the well they drink, One day they will think of me. Although, If I know I'm leaving, Into the well I go, no warning, or unthinking. Tomorrow, If I am untoward, Bloated upon our meeting, Give me shelter from the storm. Or at least a greeting.
Gord
2018-11-05 10:53 am
My heart filled with love, Only my paintbrush coveted. Simply a coward with canvas, To give forms anew, forever, Formula new, for you toward, Perhaps to give in retort. To highlight, grey, Brush dusty and disdain, My desires of microphones, Speakers though, just saying.
Gord
2018-09-27 01:23 pm
Climate I math notes climbing, Natural knowledge, Eye Rhyming. Pass on the peyote piping, Thy patina, your knife finding, Kite blue, alike my soul, Life in tense, dividing, in two. A walk in reverse, after marathoning, Designer clothes given patronizing, Living Patron, sizing larger. I'll talk and traverse, Pasture paragon lifestyle for, Pluto could not write himself, Aristocracies would sign lords, Soule, crabs and seacreatures, Arrange, kill. Labeling features, Toward no end, untoward wool, Frayed at the end, Dog no match for wolf. Tres bien.
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.
\/