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
2026-08-04 12:56 pm
I don't mind the double standard, It doesn't matter. Like of earth, and other planets. Are alternative angles an answer? When upon a bed, And under blankets, Otherwise, it doesn't matter. It's like the farther one travels, You become more of an animal, Like foxes, wolves or badgers, Eating bugs if you have to. Migration, and other issues, I don't mind the double standards, It's more about comedy to a fool. Like sex is to faggots.
Gord
2026-07-29 01:20 pm
One day, I'll write like you, my hero. Like a pen is attracted to paper, Like I'm attracted to you. Like, upon your skin I'll write, Until you're more me than I, I take everything from you, Like brakes upon a bike.
Gord
2026-07-21 07:28 pm
Whiter upon the mirror face, While rubbed upon, bitter taste, Why, are you so irritated? You will never see them as I see them, Dull, sullen and grey. Wool, spun into braid. What else should I say? I envy everything you have, Even if you gave it away. Writer, upon feeling erase, Like graphite filled veins, I have everything to give, And I can give it away. White, upon the fearing caste, While rubbed upon, bitter taste, Why? The fear of being placated, Like rubber farms treat waste.
Gord
2026-07-09 06:12 am
Lingua adversaria, Suovetaurilia, Mad, hysteria, and dependence. Antagonistic language, And fashioned to black, Hand Gallops, Depression. Can an abstract inform the mass? Impress upon me, Earth. Like clay to ash. Like, in darkness, Light upon a mass.
Gord
2026-06-18 06:20 pm
Life spent, upon a boat, If you ask him how it went: 'I couldn't have known, how the waves would throw me, If I had the chance I would do it again. You never know.' Although, he said heresies, If you ask me, it was like God when we spoke. I couldn't have known, how what he said affected me, If I had the chance, I would do it again, You never know.
Gord
2026-06-18 05:35 pm
Atop the spire, wizards, white, What is obvious, like this type of writing, or the ways it affected our minds. Liberty spikes, Into the eye and past the socket: Images of fucking, and violence, Consumed with many libations. Like an infection, it stays inside... You would rather fight about race, and riot, Like liberty spikes upon the statues high... Why wouldn't you say the opposite? That upon the point your virtues die, That you would rather sit at home and watch it, Than go out and stop those pedophiles.
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.
Gord
2026-06-15 03:08 pm
Upon the scale, weight, Upon frets a finger lays, A box of steaks, A lot of range, A lot of slaps across the face. Upon the face, the brain, Comfort: Darkness. Not just gray. Not just shame, Not just rage, Not just hop up on a train, Stardust trails along the way. Upon the Earth, fate, Upon desertion, fingers shake, Heavy upon the face and brain. Not just weight, Not just shame. Knots, the stomach and fingers make. I guess I changed, Not the same as we played, And it's not just the weight, Inside I'm white and sage, Like an apartheid state.
Gord
2026-06-05 06:01 pm
In the nicest possible way, I say to you: It's just a cape. It's part of a play, I can't make things magic again... Injected into blood: theatrics. Addiction upon the face, She paces the room, Tolerance and waiting, When does the show begin? When will the feeling stay? In the nicest possible way, I say to you: It's just a cape, It's part of a play, It doesn't make things magic again.
Gord
2026-05-26 03:17 pm
What matters most, when writing a book? Followers, forewards, then crying a wolf. What flatters most, when writing a note? What do you think? Yes, maybe, or no? But what matters most? Peace between war? People you know? You're not beyond greed of the sword, But you're beyond breathing of smoke... I really feel sorry, and fear on reproach, It's not the party, and people, you know? It's that we hardly ever spoke, I feel closer to death than a dreamboat. But, you're beyond breathing of smoke, I really feel sorry, for fire upon the roof. You're not beyond greed of the sword, But you're beyond letting me know. So, this is how it goes... What matters most, when writing a book? Survival, reprisals, the life that was took. Who chatters most, with somber looks? Violent rioters, petty drunks, Armed with popular science. He said different horizons, Dressed in the same wools.
Gord
2026-05-25 09:20 pm
Macho dancer, nacho boy, Follower, borrowed language, Patterned, upon another land. They call you boy, not a man. Hollow laughter from the distance, Borrowed valor, from deep sadness. Thirty seven candles later you visit, Sorrow, passion, anger, business, All over a taco salad? I thought you had charisma? They say your life, not your plan... Also talent, not what you had. Abscence, between smashing. Not pathetic and sad, Crippled by lattice fences, Under another mask. Actually? They call me often, I'm in demand. Another sunset and other bands, People are as carbon is to plants, Commerce is to banks, Son is to a dad.
Gord
2026-04-30 09:47 am
Round mouth shouts, War cry, smoke to sky, Really? I'm quite surprised, You changed with the times, Now, you find the fight? You are cold, white, Like an old jazz style, How do you stay warm at night? I am bound down: stakes, ropes, ties... Beneath the giant lies. A man with giant lies about him, A giant in a human size. I am found down, shivering upon the tiles, Beneath the skin a person lies, A man with giant lies about him, As a spider consumes the flies, Pious continual, polite about it. Does that make it right? Well, let me fly around a bit, And with delight I get to live again.
Gord
2026-04-02 04:48 pm
Dauntless spirit: fall to sickness, Hard decisions, job descriptions. Starter pistols, starlight pitchers, Starch, upon a talking picture. Despite ego and wanting children, When all accounted, long divisions, Robert Browning, wrong religions, Accomplished townie, unpolished fingers.
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
2026-02-28 07:43 am
Like the sun goes away, You should be by again, Instead, darkness stays, Things change forever. Color is what he liked, Now, it's black and white, Weddings, wallflower, Cocaine and dice. Like a sun, centre sky, No exit stage right, Eyes upon you, finally, No escape from caskets, Or tricks to mezmerize. I wish I could tell you why, Like the eyes upon you, I can't sell you a lie, like, Everything is wonderful. You lost your mind with narcotics, You lost your magic along with it, Like the sun goes away, You should be back again, Instead, darkness stays. Color, is what you liked, Now, it's black or white, No weddings, wallflower, Mostly cocaine and dice.
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
2026-02-03 08:08 pm
Berries, on a plate, Berries, stay in place, Barrie, by the bay, Very much the same, Painted by numbers, Same as yesterday. Terry Towel upon the face, Cucumbers, and potatoes, Over white and yellow paste. In the street, expensive things, And nodding off on heroin, Near a tesla by the beach.
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