Gord

2015-07-22 12:00 am

The drunk denies,
Trunk lies emptied;
Whole lives gone ashtray,
Until God led astray;
Upon a broken branch,
Dangling over Hades.
Calm as the sea,
She walks the tightrope.
God decides not popes,
Nor who is to be.

The Sophist

2015-07-13 12:00 am

Twilight of the twelve queers;
So twisted and obscured.
We act as though we understand them;
Though with fear.
Twelve steers led by a steer.
In twelve straight abstractions.
A beast walks without ears.
Travelling wayward through swelled sounds,
Unable to hear.
Walking billions upon billions of miles to see;
Infinitude of the spheres.

The Sophist

2015-06-19 12:00 am

No bulwark for a king's depression,
But bulwarks for a king,
Homework is a learned obsession,
But bulls work for a king.
Dogmatic in a weird direction;
Every single thing is,
Worthless upon first conception,
But the first born of the king isn't.

The Sophist

2015-05-13 12:00 am

A charge upon thee,
Assault upon my person,
Trigger of my dignity,
Myth'll make it worsen,
Find two and two as three,
Head hung beneath a merkel,
Abhoring Greek,
Abhoring Roman,
Abhor mythology.

Abhor to write or speak.
When weakness strong,
And braveness weak.
And as we sleep,
No longer fly,
No longer laugh,
No longer climbing trees,
Our dreams are gone,
As a treat,
We put pure reason in our mouths,
Infected with disease.

Veins infected too,
Running to my finger tips,
Swelling to the moon,
Back into my wrist,
Swaying to the tune,
In need of amethyst.
To cure me of my drunken state,
Kiss me with your teeth,
Make me feel your pain,
Then kiss me with your drunken lips.
Burn the greatest books,
Whisper greatest stories,
Slowly back away from bliss,
Lying down,
Accept defeat,
Merrily,
Ideas are but temperless.

Gord

2015-05-06 12:00 am

Voice
To explore the belly of the beast,
Is to die for what you believe in.

Countervoice:
Explore the mouth of a dog, 
Finding nothing, move on.
I implore a decision by partisan.

Voice:
As if I were to run ashore autistic,
Circumventing a sky of no direction,
Upon sunken ship of squalid condition.
I prepare for no blockade partition, 
No handkerchief can adopt misdirection,
So no thief can hold a cloth of gold.

Countervoice:
Mention again of the god-dog.
Who sits at the feet of us all.
Sub servant religious dogma,
Poverty being stomping ground,
If man is to answer a challenge,
Who is to call him down?

Gord

2015-03-03 12:00 am

Voice 6:
Who plays Beethoven upon my door?
Truly he be hooven and poor morally,
For a husband just died in my arms.
Knock not or at least form formally,
For normally impatience is paid poor.

Voice 7 (whispers):
Quickly.

Voice 6 answers the door abruptly.

Voice 6:
You were not to arrive until morning!
There we could consummate cordially,
Declaring our love in the afternoon;
Could it be you interrupt my mourning,
Because you could not go without me,
And thus arrived in story too soon.

Voice 7:
I may have come too soon, 
But not over you, my love,
Never have I had such pain.
I request to have it again,
For I feel such remorse,
No man should be slain,
Lest by hand of a horse.

Voice 6:
Quiet, Guards hear the whining of dogs,
Horses not led by hand but by emotion?
Worker of ideals, concepts and notions,
Walking upon my silken floor in clogs;
If disgust in yourself is your only sin,
Can disgrace be upon an innocent facade?

Gord

2015-02-25 12:00 am

Gold dinar seemingly portrayed free,
Creased jeans denote not experience,
Nor worn strings of the old guitar.
Popular opinion seems to be,
Gold crowns hold some sentience,
Power, However is only an art;
Movement of heart is truly living,
Prudent hopefuls, human beings,
Students convalesce upon the sea,
Trading complacence for femininity;

Gord

2015-02-18 12:00 am

Voice 6:

Voice 5:
Impart not, depart impassioned.
Skirt not around the main subject,
Constrict yourself within contract,
Remain slack, what remains lacks.
Often gold is only plated brass.


Voice 6:
Massive injuries cost my crawl,
A future gone,
Even barring expectation, 
I could bawl tragic.
Should Atlas drop the ball,
Just expecting God catch it?
I want no tricks nor magic.

Voice 4:
There shall be no magic,
silly tricks or dancing,
Only men upon a battlefield.
Some dead, some laughing.
For if you could take a life,
I could take a life.
Only without procrastinating.
I will bring a squire only,
No men will hold you down,
Assuming no-one eviscerates me,
only father shall go to town,
my final wish being a canary.

Gord

2015-02-09 12:00 am

Voice 1:
I may ask a question of nonsense,
However I ask not philosophical,
Practically, cannot we heed,
We merely speculate, sight unseen.
Anointing of the dyke absurd,
Fools searching to search of,
What poignancy is a question like,
What is strife?
Why not question, what is life?

Voice 3:
Life is currency of an institution,
When I speak loud of retribution.
We both die upon our war machine,
Apropos closure for those supine.
Solution besting additional convolution.

Voice 1:
Passing stars dull with light,
So perhaps all fate is forever finite.
And all twilight is then n'everlasting,
Caste chaste over trivial happening,
Casting themselves of classical tragedy,
Without squalor or clothes raggedy,
Hip stores looking to rewrite history.

Voice 3:
True, but I see no god protector.
Contractors of the holy body,
They are probably of nobody.
Villains to die of destiny,
Enemy of the true spectacular.
Enemy not just of the vernacular,
Binoculars or arbitrator.
An enemy alike to a Reich betrayer.

Gord

2015-02-04 12:00 am

Voice 6:
No man plays sport with a god,
Sans future sporting warts of frog.
So can it be, in the course of wrong,
Lies retort the support of a cause?
Change lies about, but why bother?
Energy costs in dollars,
So am I to be in this world?
Where there is no king under god,
Nor a czar for the godless,
Only flattened, artificial sod,
Tragedy and rape for the goddess,
Upon which we clap in full form.
How am I to remorse, or reverse decision?
Upon a world which would deny procession.
In my opinion the wheels still turn.

Minor character: I see.

Minor character leaves.

Gord

2015-01-30 12:00 am

Voice 2:
If I tax not the husband,
I laugh not upon the sun.
I task not the daughter.
I ask not of nonsense, but honor.
To ask men of skill-set stoic,
Who is the one to dance prophetic?
They say skill-wise I circle cone,
Shall I play so remarkably alone?
When shall I finally wax poetic?

Voice 3:
Do not fret in worry,
I fight a fool, truly.
If we fight horseback steel,
His men will have no drink,
All ship that be shall sink,
If they think upon the sea,
I foresee not a shot upon me.
I foresee not a shot upon my men.
However,
I foresee dead men of opposing color.
A sea of red for a coward humble.
Two dawns we march upon him,
Squalid condition disregarded.
An offer of an ultimatum:
Convoluted death or instant slaughter.

Gord

2015-01-29 12:00 am

Voice 1
[name] lies slain, with no equal,
Peerless upon the battlefield;
No sword could cleave, 
No arrow shot could find peace,
Only freedom.
Now only the beast remains free,
Feasting upon our arrows' fleeting;
Damage so immense, I see no fleeing,
Alas, only further death.

Voice 2
Begone, for I fear not cancer.
[name] does not meet demands;
Will being not to die as asked of.

Voice 1
Cannot a voice reach thy ear?
Cannot a man be slain by sword,
Common for the man of little fear?
A million miles lies between us.

Voice 2
My man does not fight to falter,
Nor sing songs of issue paltry,
Yet, alas, at last I hear him not.
Only cheers of men which he fought.

Voice 1 exits.

Gord

2015-01-19 12:00 am

Dancers one day may not dance,
Pain upon contact with lands,
Success but a dumb chance.
Impressed with numb hands,
Stumps ambling upon a man,
Attempting to please the master,
Intent cast upon the sand.
The glass woman shatters.

Gord

2014-12-17 12:00 am

Wallow as I make fire upon my hand,
Dire locks upon mired thoughts of a man,
Swallowed like inner parts of a clam.

Gord

2014-12-05 12:00 am

Triad written, triad lost.
Writer smitten upon those accost.
Freely written upon winter snow.
Merely smitten with long lost globe.
Toward the mark I ride alone,
Never to hit only return to atone.
So, yes, I did smoke the dope.
I french inhaled and redistributed smoke.

Aharon Yosef

2014-10-05 12:00 am

Twisted moment making maidens kill heirs,
Violent hatred found only in pairs,
Dea, a deo exigitur, et deo accitos a mater.
Words that confine us will lead us to birth,
Sounds of the first man were cast upon Earth.
Cum dea exhorrent, cum dea so fair.
Cum dea horret, she shakes away care.

The Paraffin One

2014-10-02 12:00 am

Upon the throne, no one will falter,
No deeper prose, nor dragon exalted.
Asia proceeds onward in laughter,
For the west has loans now defaulted.
Conceding mass fortune to misspent wealth,
Preferring concert above eating well,
Discoursing doctors say priority on health,
Referring to a disease that fell,
Not preventative well being.
Nor representative of the well read,
For mass appeal is just seeing.
The senses infinite within a small thread,
Only known to those rolling with laughter,
Callused so thick they survive the rapture.

The Paraffin One

2014-09-15 12:00 am

No wave easily embraces a shore,
Yet broken it finds solace soars.
Beyond is sea, pale godless,
No effect easily saves scores.
Yet a violin plays of the whore,
Upon the pier, praying for goddesses.
A boat launches without birth mother,
Father never sees need for guidances,
Tragedy is compassions' like brother,
Yet time must pass or we tarnish each other.

My tragedy at sea was like no other:
I believed in no Poseidon of fate.
So I found no place safe to wallow,
Waves endlessly chased my starboard,
Port too was nothing but ocean onward,
So I trumpet ironic prayers for rain,
Anything to wash away my shameful act.