Gord
2026-08-31 01:46 pm
Tonight, tonight, Through windows, the sky, Gimme, gimme, The other songs I like. Say say say, Bye bye bye, Turning points, Within my life, Whatever music, Is in the air tonight.
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Gord
2026-08-11 04:41 am
I wish I could just kill the truth, Silver over tongue, under roof, Into the groove, into the wound, Alchohol of distant, citrus fruits. Oh, and I still love you, But that too, turns to abuse, Then silence fills a room. What have I been up to? I wish I could tell you the truth, Simple over tongue, under roof, I still love you, but I'm one of two, Easier said than lived through.
Gord
2026-08-03 07:29 pm
Why is it, that time created distance, And why from persistence, this time, Came great suffering, and pestilence. Given tongue, and often structure, In return: local, but of foreign work, Until laughter, then giving up. Why is it, that you have so much? And share little with anyone else. Why is it, that you hate so much? And have love for only yourself... Given love, and given supper, And little of anything else. Envy itself, has deadly effect, And little of anything else.
Gord
2026-06-18 03:27 pm
Never look a fish hook in the mouth, And never have any doubt, I'm fighting my way back home. But, Like radiative waves, I'm mostly out... And I'll never own a house. And I'll never have a spouse, And I'll never upturn her frown. Like oceanic waves, I'll mostly drown, And I'll never bank on being saved. And I'll never look at a fish hook another way, Like the metal corrodes my face, I slowly resolve and stay, And as it pulls me under, I'll let it take me away.
Gord
2026-02-20 02:14 pm
Belly distend, body groan, Inside you hope for inner growth, Instead, you'll fight in civil court. Doesn't it get a little old? Every night you lock the door, Enter your room, turn the radio on... It's what you know, and fear. Doesn't it seem a little odd? Where was he when you need him? Doesn't it get a little old? Every night, a knock at the door, Enter your room, turn the radio on.... So where was he by morning? Gone? You lock the door, a window breaks, Your father comes, fixes everything, Doesn't it get a little old? Doesn't it seem a little odd? Inside, you hope for inner growth, Instead, you'll fight in civil court.
The Sophist
2025-07-20 12:02 am
We're turning up the lights. We're not blacking out tonight. Cuz anything that's under half of one percent is a Sober Sip to me. We're going to party, we're not drinking lagers, we're not drinking ciders, we party to hard on those 5 percent beers and I can't remember anything. When the beer's too hard I black out and I can't remember anything. I have come here to this song to start a revolution. At the corner store for $3 we can get something stronger. If we act quickly, tonight we can drink 7% guarana. Doors close at 11 but it's already ten and I want to get faded. Tonight is a Revolution. A night that we'll never forget. Last night was fuckin' lit but I can't remember shit. Fuckin partied way too hard then blacked out from the doorway to the car. Last thing I think we did was have some Sober Sips. Fuckin partied way too hard then blacked out in the doorway of the bar.
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
2024-10-09 05:35 am
What is blue all the way through? Very few things, one of them you. Just like neighbourhood maples, Who grew oversea, good natured, Booked a flight, made into paper. What's new? I changed, too... All the way to the roots. Well, a limb moves, the ring too, The tip of which is turning blue, What cures the sickness of wealth? Very few things, among them death, Worse is truth and active dis proof. Spruce and denim, Jus, ad bellum, In the end, they feel something too. Just not what the majority do. Red right to wage fights like war, Just as much as the admiral's blue.
Gord
2024-09-20 09:01 pm
Have dreams, That's how you achieve them, Not bat ears and canned heat. Billy Bragg says 'freedom is' , But whiskey is softer on ears, Randy Blythe pushes people, Carried off as he prescribes. Chlorine, yonder, sapphire dyes, In your heart you can see their eyes, You never fully extinguish a life. Murderer, she says, most immodest, Mostly chlorine water in response, Yonder, the noble's calling, It turned her to stone on the inside. To me, like sapphire and diamonds. To her, being pushed from a stage, Down past concrete, into a grave. Into the maze, blue, into the grey. Now you are mine forever.
Gord
2024-08-22 09:11 pm
Tastes of bitterness, Yellow. Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding colors would shroud it, Keep them in jars in my bedroom. Beyond every turn, gentle dreamers, Be not astounded, my equal, Yellow inspires better people. But who inspires me? Fourth? Weapons, either people or god. How long does this rope reach? Pull my long leash, teach me of art. Pleasure seekers, teach me of bars, Present evils, second reasons to want. Granola and oats, less to the fawn. Helpless creature, apparent reason, Lemon squeezers reached the top. In each hand they grab your heart, Tastes of bitterness, Yellow, Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding yellow, they squeeze every drop, Bottle you up, put yellow in a jar.
Gord
2024-07-21 08:49 pm
Yellow, and a bit of blue, Both, I, and you. Purple, Lilac, I just care not for it. Just like you never cared for me, Or any of the things that I thought. Fetch mother, friends, for comfort. Tell your co workers, or consort. I, no longer for dramatic concert, Agriculture of the hallway, march, July, august or months of autumn, Yellow, burst into skies of orange. See If I toss and turn about it. Like, he drives a porche, owns gold, Fire and opal in his coat pockets. Like, the eyes of horses see god, They see not much beyond carrots, Understand little of soap, clothes. Like, maybe you cared for poems, Little for poets, less even for prose.
Gord
2024-07-16 01:39 am
Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange, But the yellow never changes in you, Does it? Thorn forest, there grows roses. Though tulips, begonia warn you, The world is full of your kin, Thoroughbred horses, Who rub their backs in shit. You are a squid that inks, then drinks it. I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit, Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing. You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias. So, though two lips beg on, like au jus, You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze. I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools... Whose blue oceans brown in pollution, Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion. You are a fun person, is my conclusion, Maybe red can change to an orange, Blue, though, can never be less blue, You can never really be a better person, Just accept yourself, I love you.
Gord
2023-10-30 05:49 am
Stares across the sheet of ice... Ningen, it lives! My fear subsides, Human eyes, inhuman smile, alive... it's alive! A light, like a flight, is a trial... Neat circles and straight lines! Figures, like a flight, need a pilot, Skies above have no time or pride. A night, like an iron spike, island, Eye's iris, thick thighs or curtness, Always keep a place and purpose. Unlike the Ningen, which flies... Just hopes to last another lifetime, Like longing stares into a glass of rye, Fish in the ocean or the turning tide. What falls from the sky? What god divines? What god provides? What father decided? Despite what he tries, like a Ningen child, Like looks across tables at what he despised. Like a fucking guy who likes to get fucking high, Although he decides, he decides, he decides... His mind often trailed nonsense, then he cried, Like a little baby, Ningen child that he hated inside.
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.
Gord
2022-07-06 06:40 am
Estoppel, Mothers teach their daughters: Fear god like a cannon, It's about what comes after, Thanks can turn like a cavern. Characters in novels, Monuments in their honor, Buildings to hurl themselves off of, In life, it appears less often, Withering is more common. Peer down the fandom: Book like a standard, Fans buy a good lie. Banks burn like a tavern, Like a blanket in shambles By the fire that looks fine. Estoppel: The dragon sighs, Wishes a sweet prince, good night, Gone is he with the fire.
psyaviah
2021-12-07 08:58 am
Trackside, the engineer twists and turns Back and forth - on the chair Tapping feet Biting their lips Clenching fists The balance must be right Between performance, between life Focus, forthright In every tiny decision Every design to make Weighing off the balance of winning Versus the life one could take At light speed, the pilot twists and turns Every lap, committed in the highest of G's Back and forth - shifts and learns Working wrists Operating feet The balance must be right Between speed, between sight In every corner A decision awaits Weigh the balance of life Versus the passion to race
Ifediata Kossy
2021-06-20 05:34 am
Bullet for bunting. What's in the word, That the mouth fit not say. I wield my ink, bleeding words like fire. Fighting to shave off the frailty you plunged on me. You used to be unique, very ineffable. Never knew I was being deluded by wishful thinking. I fought your fight, abate your fears. Rather than return a thousand thanks, you fired me with a cacophony of bullets. You inhaled the oxygen of my love, While I search in perusal for answers. Your words, monotonous, left me in a muddled state. Like a bullet for bunting, I never saw it coming. © Ifediata Kosisochukwu
Lynn
2021-06-18 04:38 am
my god i’m so lonely so i set my small salt lamp on the edge of the window on the tiny wooden ledge i turn the dial clockwise and the light burns in my eyes sending a message to the dog across the street the only one who might be able to understand my mess of signals, signs indistinguishable from the clothes heaped on my floor nobody, nobody nobody nobody nobody, oh, nobody nobody somebody, anybody, nobody, again.
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