The Sophist
2016-03-14 12:00 am
A confection, black and round. With sugar and gelatin. Found in allsorts; the young child's delight. Bound in or licorice filled. To maintain the same shape, See the molds are all pre-made. Shine, wax of bees, and molasses, Failing potassium, High blood pressure and heart failures, Can be found in some. Chewy ropes made, flat and round. Bound with gum arabic. As the crowd swarms, by trucks in the light. Absurd to stock it at will. To maintain the same shape, See the molds are all pre-made. Shine, wax of bees, and molasses, Effecting the young, Low IQs and behaviors, Green stools of your own.
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The Sophist
2016-02-22 12:00 am
The Sophist speaks of years forlorn. Breathing in the ears of corn. "What mercy does a savage make? What pity do the foolish take? They take one step, and nothing more." The Sophist speaks of emeralds. So green and dope for sure. So dope! So dope, Oh, And Green! For sure... Found but lost before, Lost for all eternity, Now He's found for sure. The Sophist still confused by waves, Playing seashells on the shore. Scarcely eats, Softly prays, The Sophist sings in uniform.
Gord
2016-02-19 12:00 am
Today is but a fragile future, Flying high above our own wisdom, Too humble to nurture our own lambs, Ouroborous of the past come from within. We would smile upon our cattle truth, Passing as the horses coming through. Alexander of the trade has gone forever, Accordingly should we also become nothing? It seems apt for our most static people. Hopefully to procure funds for a sequel.
Novina Alfe
2016-02-16 12:00 am
Is it just enough to look at the roughness of your hands do you ponder over the texture complexion and remember how each scar got there do you take the time to examine who they loved and who they hate WHO tears they wiped away and on whose face I know you look at them often do you use them just to pray or used them to play with your prey amen do you use them to take pictures of the Sun when it rise do you use them to heal hearts or just leave marks on degraded body parts your hands your hands do you keep them clean have they shed innocent blood have they robbed the lowly one have they said hello thank you and please is the look of toughness just a disguise a way to fool people who sympathize with their eyes your hands your hands do you use them just to eat do they feed the needy do they try to make peace do you praise them for a job well done do you use them to raise a good son surely you let them rest after you just bust one and by bust I mean nutt and by nutt I mean there's nothing new under the Sun so how do you plead guilty or innocent Mr mirror man do you have killing or healing hands
Rebecca Cherrington
2016-02-15 12:00 am
His beauty is beyond compare His powerful stance and hypnotic stare! His orange and black exterior Makes all other species look inferior He stalks his prey with majestic grace The concentration on his expressive face! A beautiful animal from head to tail tip But undeniable power in his vice like grip The unofficial King of cats That poachers kill to make fancy mats His beautiful tiger should be left alone Maybe in another time zone! (C) RCherrington
Gord
2016-02-02 12:00 am
The mired child, spoiled Mildly retarded by choice. Spends his days locked inside. Wishing wildly of days gone by, Punching the god of his desire, Cursing the men of his design. A life not spent fighting, as it appears to the self. Shuffled between arenas, Destined for the cell.
Gord
2016-02-02 12:00 am
Sun shining, Days simply spend inside, Producing music, mp3 and wav files, Meanwhile I see my Aunt smiles, Her son shining shoes up in a crack house. I'm pretty sure she's looking for my 26 thou, So i ask her in the heat of the night. 'Tell me, How does the world look so bright, through dirty sheets and a black gown?' She replies down.
The Sophist
2016-01-27 12:00 am
Light in darkness; Fighting hardest. Writing ardent; Spiting artists. Plighting promise. Quite harmless. Trite incarnate. Reticent catharsis.
The Sophist
2016-01-26 12:00 am
Languish and pine farcically. Anguish behind bars I speaked. Sleep, breathe, and piss poetic imagery. Retards stillborn incestuously, then beaten. Death of a feeble pure breed, bleeding. Derelict to think souls leave and vanish. Remembrance lacking evilly. Evanescence; Drowning of a water lily.
Gord
2016-01-18 12:00 am
Ever could I see the sun again, I would follow the sunset forever, Galloping on white horse in vain. Perhaps no trial is worth such fervor, Even if it passes as entertainment.
Gord
2015-12-31 12:00 am
He asks why do all the good men die? He watches her eyes as the tears well up, and they both just cry. Through the wristwatches he loses time, Ignorant to buyer's market. Ignorant to the sacred time, To save the come ons for another line.
Gord
2015-12-08 12:00 am
Chance choirs made from wolves, Lance fire no longer, proper, Atlas' wait, the world evolves, Society decays and dissolves, Great heroes fall to the gossiper, Sitting improper, upon gossamer. Intelligence to fall en mass, The spider man, revered for candor, Perspires to fight the fault finder.
Gord
2015-11-27 12:00 am
The pale light through red eyes, Seen together as a final sundry. Comely mirrors reflect their lies, An everlasting world forever lacking, Revenge exacted, love never lasting. Metaphorically, a life placed in plaster.
The Sophist
2015-11-24 12:00 am
Seal sutured my soul; To a body- a home. Come help make me whole. Self life spent alone. Warm bed 'side a warmer throne, Bed heats by its own. Ten times two is four. Ten times lack of effort, All effort is poor. Tax taken from pews, Poor unfortunate two, Camels; too large crew. To dust grind my bones, Tear open by strings my heart, Seal sutured my soul.
Gord
2015-11-19 12:00 am
Is this love, Alexander? Promptly Cleopatra answers, Dancers kicks, and spins, Treat the story like a stage, Improperly tuned for appraisal. Alas I spend my days, Fighting weary foes in cages. My half heart being only paper, Protected death in glass case. Lament for my love continued, Contained in a brass vase.
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