Gord

2014-07-30 12:00 am

The illumination now seems like magic,
Flashing fights amid darkening background.
Giants no longer able to wish to fight,
Only to die to be back among the pack,
To re-ignite, to fight from higher ground.
Ironically battle is lost by those with the foundry.
Their heaven lacked the fortifications necessary.

Gord

2014-07-28 12:00 am

I am hop,
To say I am hip, is past tense.
So I pretense my statements.
My preamble is mastered arrogance,
So I defend my stature veritable,
With questionable complacence.

Gord

2014-07-25 12:00 am

The red sand on the red planet.
A new home for those disbanded?
The pack is no longer accepting of animals.
Acceptance is a past participle,
Placing indiscriminates in wheelchairs.
Athletes teaming, forced to be there:
It's more austere for those committed.
Picture this: A world full of autism,
With no conviction to tackle the problem.
As in, 
Extremism only applies to what I love.
Only the things I love matter,
No matter to kindred doves,
No pitter-patter,
No kids in love,
 because it's considered disgusting.
Life only applies to what I want.
When I want.
So give me the rights of the fully retarded.

The Sophist

2014-07-24 12:00 am

If only I had money to make bets,
I'd bet some lunatics have somehow met,
To plan silent auctions for dead men,
If I won I would buy Casey Kasem's head.

The Sophist

2014-07-24 12:00 am

Quick, snap some pictures so my friends can see my band.
 We don't have any good songs yet so they wouldn't
 understand without the glamour shots.

Quick, take some stammered stills while I hammer shots. This
 will be the best band to make it the top without a strand
 of talent in our hands. 

Don't tell me how to raise my band. I know what music looks
 like; tactfully unplanned. I write Pizza Hut music like
 Ariana Grande. I expand, and so disband. My drummer had
 demands, and ignored my commands. My solo career takes
 stand. 

Quick, snap some more glamour shots so my friends can see
 firsthand depraved aspects of my brand.

The Sophist

2014-07-23 12:00 am

Law makes obligatory,
More than one Nation,
To waste business hours,
Achieving more profligation.

You shall not pass,
The whole world may perish,
From Brahma to a blade of grass,
But you are still here.

All uninhibitory,
Lord of Creation,
You are in all things,
You are in every location.

View darkness unmasked,
The whole world you cherish,
Will dissolve in a flash,
But still have no fear,
Knowing self world dissolves,
Ignorant it appeared,
You are the heart of awareness,
No less, end of story.

Gord

2014-07-23 12:00 am

By chance a rapper falls into success.
Perchance an acid rapper should try acid.
Nah, 'I don't fuck with that shit.'
Per chance you trap another album,
I am skeptical of the outcome.
Addicts are scarcely funded by cheques.

The Sophist

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I hear a voice,
A voice that is screaming,
Words with no meaning,
From lips I can't lean to,
If I try.

By chance or by choice,
By passion or comfort,
One or one hundred,
Sounds you can run through,
In your mind.

If you give it a try,
You can accidentally bike out onto the road,
Get hit by a car,
You can get drunk and die,
Body falls on a button,
Makes the world explode,
It isn't that hard.
If you're not young or retarded.

Theseisms destroy,
All classical meaning,
Those labels you're dreaming,
I'm going to eschew them,
If you try.

Sit back and rejoice,
I'm not trying to free you,
Nor'm I trying feed you my truth,
View beauty in tandem,
Anytime.

Life isn't a crime,
Keep your mind on a lovely abode,
Eyes watching the north star,
You can get drunk and not die,
Live all that is written,
'tis the will of the poet,
La palmure! J'am trop tard!¹
Soft sophist; sophisticated hardly.

Footnotes:
1. La palmure...tard "The web! I'm too late!"

Gord

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I am with my peers.
Although you forge careers,
In favor o' honing craft.
It leaves them bereft, of talent.

Dreamers dreaming dreamscapes,
Of dreams they never even had.
When will they part with inaction?
Or finding meaningless meanings?
While meanwhile the bridge burns backward.

The Sophist

2014-07-21 12:00 am

See depths of apathy,
In lengths of hair,
Like half of me there,
Other half in'other room,
Gaping blankly it stares there too,
Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off
 in my mind,
See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas,
'splayed 'round the front of my being,
All this beauty is mine,
Even you are in the bounty,
You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath
 my feet.
You move me.
You are a seed that grew toward this
 ever-falling tree.
Freedom gnaws at nature,
A crutching being what's need.

Gord

2014-07-16 12:00 am

Dill pickle chips, I find them delicious.
If I could find a fault, a little more salt.
Then they would be where sweet chili heat is.

Gord

2014-07-16 12:00 am

A relationship couldn't hurt you.
They call her whirlpool. What?
Cannot water purl, lest swirl?
Cannot the girl circle?
Without countess' calling Birle?¹
A charity now, discounts jealousy.
Apparently they want your man...

Maybe the man they seek is a boy.
Attracted to kiss curls and cute girls.
Ensnared in world's trap of spit curls,
The world is full of geothermal cores.
Moreover she's 'so hot',
She only explores herself.
I walked right into the flower shop.
Honestly I'm not looking for vagina,
I'm just looking to be the primus.²


Footnotes:
1. Swirling Water; Masculine Name;
2. The 'one'; The first.

The Sophist

2014-07-15 12:00 am

Belly poked by intrauterine demise -
 infanticide - now I can poke her in her
 thighs. I fantasized that maybe the baby
 would have cried, or that I would have
 stopped it, crazy by the pain I feel inside.
 Now I swear there's nothing there. I lost the
 key to the divine.

I dreamed a life of orgies but my sex life is
 austere. Who cares? I drink nightly, and dream
 of an affair with a tryst. I jot prose for love
 not there and recite them to the one that I
 declare. I'm sick from life; to levy death is
 fair. I'm too sick to spread my sickness. Give
 them death, who fucking cares?

The Sophist

2014-07-10 12:00 am

I'm not mad,
Or blinded by infinity,
I want the moon,
As I saw in my epiphany,
That's all.

The Sophist

2014-07-07 12:00 am

Hating rap,
Via rappers hating freestyle,
Respecting the art,
Seeing nothing worthwhile.

A new look is what's need,
Art lied, we need focus,
Rap needs Lied.

The Sophist

2014-07-04 12:00 am

He speaks in subterfuge,
He makes myth from animal bones, 
'scribes visions of mothers viewed postnatal,
He calls them "future you".
He claims Caesar's final breath found you.
He sees a subtle use,
And has you build his thrones.
He's too busy to view.
He gives you your fill,
You attack at his illusions,
'til your confusion is ill.

I write folk songs for fools.
Without steps I reach your homes,
Crying disses of another's views most fatal
I call them "false truths",
I hand out bauble knives to the Fountain Youth,
I burn the stable spruce,
And make off with the stones,
I take the dragons too,
I live just to kill,
I attack at your confusion,
Pushing your illusions downhill.

Gord

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Wireless like the spy network.
Re-worked that line reads:
Pyrite like the bomb network,
That evolved from good times.
Happy days and thick lines.
Hollywood bats his back nine.
Happiness captured in his eyes.

The Sophist

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Another victory means I'm undone,
Wars are lost where battles won,
I can no longer fight with spirits dead,
The bards asleep, the songs are done.

Pyrrhus produced a record for fun,
Ruined industry in one fell swoop,
Breaking critics' thumbs,
Sounds of cyanide group hit number one.

Perhaps best to join the opposition,
For fear that death becomes my own position,
My army met attrition,
Attrition proved a worthy foe.

But if they come, I must not go,
For I doth know, sky hide not sun,
Nor drums, moon, cloud or snow.
I'll shine bright 'til my gallows strung,
I saved the Kingdom; 
Now I'm scum.