Gord
2026-09-29 09:11 pm
I saw through the night, My eyes, always on you, Instead of the knife. Wings, wild across the white, Heart still filled with horror, So, on and on - and out of sight. Naivety, leads to fighting, Like pencil leads to writing. Wings, used to fly, Like fathers are to leaving, No need to try.
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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
2026-06-04 10:00 pm
Little bug: Little pigs, Little frogs, Little slug. Finger work beneath civil tongue: Fish supper, friction with drums. A little brother, too big for hugs, A little bit of dust, bits of rough: Personality, but's and cynical plots, Digital work beneath a given tongue. What would you say to me honestly? That you wish I was crushed? Well, I'm not. I lived never thinking of you much. Where is your response? Little love for little bugs, Simple things, inner calm, bigger cause... More concern for grudges, Than writing another song. Give a little time, you give it up... A little pain, a little age, little fun: Singing about doors that are shut, Invisible cuts that the makeup covers, For a while, until the stage goes dark, Then begins your performance, Entertainment to little bugs.
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
2025-07-10 05:25 am
Turtles to the top, Turtles to the bottom, Fixated on the comical, Tequila on the tongue. Curtain, rubber saw, Surface cut across, Love, when under cloth, Nothing matters above. I love you more than art, I love you more than god. Tongueless, trouble talking, Unless I sing another song. Forgive my writing, I understand, we have not long: 'Touch upon, yet world's apart, Double malt until the color bars.'
Gord
2025-02-11 07:33 am
To the final, pathetic, vocal squeal: Drum trials, pathos in guitar steel, Reference, for the crowd to cheer. What is gone, but was never there? What is a woman? Complacent? Like God, you take a bucket, Drown her in rainwater, It remains clear. Her body is still good for fucking. His money is still good for fucking, Her body is still good for fucking, Nothing. Ink then vinyl, out into the real, Drum trial, pathos to the feeling, Defence for the crowd that cheers. What is gone, but was never there? Magic, you chose a career, Not a life path. Defend that! Missives you can't recite back, Missiles, like knives to the back, Missing like writing upon a staff. Music was a mistake in the end, Mythic, like an axe upon a head, Without your controller in hand, What is gone, but was never there?
Gord
2024-09-25 09:27 pm
Blue, pale sky. What did I miss? The sale price? The halfway line? Brick by bloody brick, They desalt mines. Did you just move away, Get killed, then live again, Just to shiver in place, Wither and die? Were you better off hunting diamonds? Forgive my writing, And erotic sins, For which upon this wit I build. Always right, Above, they fly, Always white, Always wine. Blue cranes from blueprints, Selfish, and high.
Lynn
2022-04-14 10:00 pm
away from work is time for family away from family is time with myself away from myself is time to write away from writing is time to work
Gord
2021-09-01 01:31 am
Job, Free me of what happiness was, Cartier watch, Armani galliard. Can I wake to a crappy alarm, Feel apart from country laws, Contract law, writing Sir John Condescendingly at the bottom. If three is a charm, And I keep it with me, Can I wake to live somewhere, Where you see the stars in all their beauty?
Gord
2021-04-23 09:07 am
I write of simple, financial issues, Career moves, Careening doves living. Writing of her dimples; I can forgive, no substantial dispute, Education isn't a standard issue, Like flies striking a civilian, What little I know I know little of, And even that I misuse. An Odyssey of nonsense words, I write, Simple, my peers peer my finger works, Writhe in vigor, like flies in flight.
Gord
2020-11-06 12:40 am
A Fool, wreath of barbs, Writing of films' stars, Barns, and what lies beyond; Tools for reaching disembarkments, A cool way to clean her clock, A gun, put into a mouth, Entire crowd in shock; His cigar takes tocks, Ticks boxes and lives onward. He rewrites his ducks: swans, Cooks his brownies blonde, Looks at his frowning fawn, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Like drowning frogs, A fearless John. When he writes of life, It's to a howling mob, Sexy songs, luck gaunt, One of us, One of us, One of us, Eteonicus lives, reeds or not.
Gord
2020-10-28 10:14 am
Writing one hundred pages, It turns out to be permanent makeup, Not exactly an act of nature, Rather products of one's labor, Tattooed to the skin with lasers. Other people, Other places A number of changes, fables; One's mind, the world adjacent. Fine, just fine, Never find time, Why bother in the prime of life, When eyes stretch beyond the tide.
Gord
2020-10-21 02:05 pm
To claw and claw, Writing of natural law, Barracks and arches, Scientific approaches; To be driven ashore, Hearing of chorus, Fairs and archfiends. Only death can stop me, Friends and colleagues; Stems, large leaves, Cigarettes, coffee, Footsteps and then leaps; See my craft on screen, See their past as I see. Consequence on my freedom, I feel men are not sheep.
Gord
2020-09-13 11:11 pm
Global player who creates the local cable, Writing nomenclatures with known names, Hoping workstations become playstations, Whose drone planes zip along to no shame; Teaching to make rain and thunder, How your shame is the pain of others, Whose praise and worship is nonsense. Space traveler, declares his slave radical: "No place for a sail with no waves, No stone age for a failing sage, Place the stones on his grave, Then walk away." Teaching to take pain asunder, How should I, seek, become a hermit, With my star-ship lacking an AC?
Gord
2020-06-15 03:16 am
Do thickets see steeples, or are people the thickets? If writers are thick headed, Writing of Peter Pans' pigs, Who visits? Bull, riches, seer, man, Write a list upon my hand, So that my plot, it thickens. What is time spent living: Divine or perspective driven? Plate spinner, of your illusion, Place your spins upon their back. Bull, chickens, and feelings lack, Who takes from hands of other hen? Who take the hands of other hen, Who take the land of wary men, Who lost to men, More suspicious then. What is it all about: Defense, or Pence, To what extent do I extend, What is strength?
Gord
2020-06-04 12:25 am
The toad speaks, the mind sees, The mouse squeaks of menses; Too high to sleep, ego flying, Does one write lines on sheets? Scribble perfection, or deny? Fights cannot be won, only survived. Poet, please give me writing, Forced to be, I need power to fight.
Gord
2020-05-20 05:58 am
I guess I could write again, About life: All but writing. Perhaps mine inspire biting, Fists to the side inspiring. A couple stands, A couplet stanza, My life is not simple music, To play on verandas, Nightstand or castle. Rather it's a little shrew, His mind on what is new: "Is it food?"
Gord
2018-09-05 06:07 am
They write light of my writing, Erudite Facebook, liars' rights, Poetically I am but humble, Penning comedies of tribe. Unlike, Unlike, Unlike, Unlike my peers, I replied. Despite fears and sighs, My stride upright, austere. Alas, long grass, an axe, Tomorrow fills, fellow actors, Craft jazzy, played by amateurs, Demanding average. Eyes glassy and skills assay, Alas, follow mass, a bass, Screaming of typeface, in your face.
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