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Gord

2023-11-16 04:57 am
What was I to be?
A hive of bees? I see.
Time; clouds.
Sky; crowns.
Cries, foul: "I'm tied down."
She said as I vied for relief.
Time, dreams,
Lies, deceit,
"I'm drowning". Pleas,
Screams of an ice house,
Before it lies in the deep.
Now...
What am I to be?
Composer of songs,
Giver of feelings?

What is high to a beast?
Fire, disease. What is mine.
Like piles at the keep,
Rivals final meetings,
Some spend life on things.
I, much like a beast,
Divide things in half, 
Decide, with a hand, rights to be.

So, What was I to be?
Probably nothing.
Feeding my cows, starving,
Alike to the sea.
Some sing in the choir,
Some sit in the seats.
Some write, despite reason,
Until, like an ice house,
They find reasons to leave.

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Gord

2023-10-30 05:49 am
Stares across the sheet of ice...
Ningen, it lives! My fear subsides,
Human eyes, inhuman smile,
alive... it's alive!

A light, like a flight, is a trial...
Neat circles and straight lines!
Figures, like a flight, need a pilot,
Skies above have no time or pride.
A night, like an iron spike, island,
Eye's iris, thick thighs or curtness,
Always keep a place and purpose.
Unlike the Ningen, which flies...

Just hopes to last another lifetime, 
Like longing stares into a glass of rye,
Fish in the ocean or the turning tide.
What falls from the sky? What god divines?
What god provides? What father decided?
Despite what he tries, like a Ningen child,
Like looks across tables at what he despised.

Like a fucking guy who likes to get fucking high,
Although he decides, he decides, he decides...
His mind often trailed nonsense, then he cried,
Like a little baby, Ningen child that he hated inside.

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Gord

2023-09-17 07:37 pm
Was it like this all along? A bird wonders...
Like gawkers, ponders what they saw...

'Would you describe me, inside of a bar?'
'Must again, you make things be so hard?'
'Wasp, like I bumble about the pollen,
Following a humble belief seems wanton,
When you believe in things so violent and wrong.'

Bird, quickly describes in simple songs,
Big cities, things it saw in the puddle, 
Colors of war,  bees that talk.
Freedom, it sings, is also simple, 
One really needs not drift apart.
The big screen, another big scene,
It was mostly a facade...
Balk, talk is talk, feeling in the dark,
But most of what a bird said, lived on,
Proper relief is upon the soul after all...

So they write less of evil on the walls,
In the sky, on maps or village carts.
Against nothing, see the days beyond...
I suppose those concepts are behind us.

Was it like this all along? A bird wonders...
Is the city like a swallow, or like to swallow,
and will he be the next one gone?

Cause for alarm, make calls upon,
Anything, but you lost the one. You love...

Like a dog watching another sun set,
More talk, another sun will rise again,
Life for this bird is but more dogs.
So like a coward, survives the storm, 
Shivering as they make their calls.
Inevitably, to face the power lines alone.

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Gord

2023-08-21 06:17 pm
Like alchemists of emotional chemistry,
Heavy silence about various subjects,
Talks about how tents in a field, 
Might impact your freedom.
Their beliefs, their decrees,
It all has to do with degrees, 
Then-deceased, legacies, theories,
All of which, to them seems real.

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Gord

2023-05-31 09:02 am
Compare deceased, compare diseases,
Civil registry, never ending dreams.
Quiet, discontented tree:
Questions vex me silent,
Why do we drink of selfish need?
Why do we eat to reddish green?
Why do they scream your scaring me,
While I achieve new levels of self deceit?
It responds, about roots and leaves,
Tools and people, fools and fees.
It's beyond me to understand.

Again indeed.

Only man writes with a pen,
Ire infinite, to the final syllable.
A point most misunderstand:
Life is not miracles, appearances,
Science fiction or analyzing images,
It's mostly the wheres and whens,
Indeeds said again, friends you miss.
Like all the pyramids get built,
You'll find they went brick by brick.
Like kids, chimes in the wind,
Ideally they play without worry,
Not re-examine life endlessly,
Like a firing squad that never hits.
Like a chime without another,
It takes only one to be lonely,
Two people to live.

Hair recedes, favour leaves,
Ferris wheels and screams,
Once again, the tree speaks, 
This time about seasons,
Blues and greens, 
Views and seeds,
You open your own mouth, freely,
Someone else's dreams.
Again indeed.
A mirror responds vaguely,
Instead of self reflection sees,
Things that terrify,
Even when they close their eyes and they sleep.

One could compare their life to a sheep,
Sheppard, or favoured elite.
What one eats someone decides,
Where one sleeps someone else decides,
Who one sees is limited, they cry.
But they compare to a bar too high.
Then with their time, belies, nevers, freezes.
Feelings of timidness, cheapness, lies,
Triangles you hope to avoid thinking,
Inevitably though you need drink.
You need some chips, think about it.
You need a horse to ride to the store,
Because you're lazy as shit.
So I guess just hope for the best,
But also go for it.

Again, Indeed.

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Gord

2023-05-08 03:15 am
If I could, I would take my grey for your gray,
My grave for your grave, but in the end I will fail.
Take my blade and slay your beasts, hero.
Even if all you see are beasts and famous people,
Not beings from which you take a piece.
In fear we never speak, like ancient egypt,
People change, things remain the same for me.

You aspire for some greater freedom,
Perhaps, from up there you can label people,
Teach them who should be sold as slaves.
Maybe you can take those taken pieces, 
Build back the things you took from me.
Gain more favour and speak loquacious,
But gone are the days where you heard me speak,
Gone are the days of our walks on the beach,
Because even long ago I was but memories.

Things have changed, besides the people,
Weight and age mostly, 
But when I see your face, 
You want an escape, I can see it.
A smile that lies on its face,
But your heart plain as day.
Rather than three hours too soon,
One minute late

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Gord

2023-04-23 07:53 pm
Once in a lifetime event,
Arrives by themself,
A winding stare, 
Polite requests, tired guests,
Inside the knife twists.

How can I make this about myself?
Fits, detest in the form of comments,
Regrets, pride, lissome denial, hits.
How can I make this about myself?
They think, screaming into the abyss,
How can I make this about myself?
Complaints, debates about nonsense, 
Speculation about arrangements,
Coughing, several games maudlin,
Talking about options freely.
Providence.

The final act, the lion dances,
Forgone reactions, lying,
Along with crying, antics.
They exclaim their passions,
As does the crowd.
Again they feel the knife twists,
As they are thrown to the ground.

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Gord

2023-04-12 05:23 am
Birth mother, 
Are you done in search of justice?
From hunger the feeling lingers on,
I want to be created equal, in three parts:
My heart, my dreams, my thoughts.
To stomach decisions these fingers long:
How much must one muster?
The war is over, the performance over,
The opponent is dead and gone.

He hears the fear in his voice,
Drinks beer, balks, talk circles,
Inside he looks awkwardly,
Leers like a child at adults.
'Blood eater, what of your cuts?
Is your search for freedom done?
What is your word for love?
Of people, of reason,
Like earth, sun,
One deserves better treatment, 
But worries when wonders gone.'

Colonel, a third of your country, wrong.
Fanciful fawns, thoughts prancing,
Warnings: Songs bandied to a swan.
Wanting nothing, wanton, famished,
Like night always says to the dawn:
Our prospects have long vanished.
It's more self talk, silence in response,
Dancing alone, along to the bombs that drop.

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Gord

2023-04-03 02:50 pm
Young men see visions, Old men have dreams,
His mind was troubled and he could not sleep.

Body smeared in honey,
Head to feet, conceit,
Meant to be supreme,
Yet not even complete.
The sea, is free, comparably,
Considering the moon, destiny.
When you speak, Where you sleep,
To others, it matters only where you scream.
Meant to be, it's a funny thing,
Next movie I hope you're next to me.

Wild marjoram, fine novelists,
Five dollar words, trite violins,
Telling simple lies, promises.
Yet when I saw the world,
My heart stopped again, 
Eyes on a third of my providence.

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Gord

2023-03-29 05:31 am
Swordsman, go home!
Forests shall be no more,
Our taste for war is gone,
Favoured trees have grown.
Nobles shall be no more,
No new kings be proclaimed,
Of all her princes, gone,
Her world led astray.

Open doors, open forms,
Cold, Enourmous castles,
Forts, or formal courtyards.
Informal castes, people,
Making walls, floors, or ceilings.
It matters where you stand, to the boards.

Suppose also, toward unknown,
Battlefields always need a war,
Despite reform, broken bones,
Foreign loans, foreign ownership,
Moral codes or mortal blows.
For it heeds no appeal,
Not even for their souls.

Dinner for four, e un quarto
However, foremost, they see trolls.
A photo's floorboards, reasons for war.
Yet they sit aside and hope for resolve,
Fear in their heart they hope to ignore.

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Gord

2023-01-05 06:49 am
Sickle swing into the grass, 
Thinking of pictures, gifts,
Hoping they still persist,
Hopes for more than past.
Head in the clouds, riddles,
Under his cap, a fickle thing.

Sickle swing the earth and drag,
He touches her breasts and legs,
Permitting his heart fleeting
To consider something risqué.

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Gord

2022-12-29 08:48 am
He coughs, feels the black ink on his palm
If he cast speech, a last kiss on her lips, 
All his faults and all her resolve.
He calls it god but his heart does not,
He has simple, economic thoughts,
of films, of myths, he knows little of.

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Gord

2022-12-22 03:17 am
Trying to break free, like a caterpillar.
The feeling is of great joy and relief,
Like a child being born, finally feels.
Acronyms describe the experience,
He became, "I", in the moment,
Realized, in his essence, Idyllic,
His dreaming was all he was.
Heart curls into a ball,
Wraps himself in yarn,
Forgets the thoughts that haunt him,
It doesnt solve wants or give cause,
But he explodes in vivid color,
Looking like an inexpensive car,
He flies fast to escape the closing walls. 

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Gord

2022-12-21 04:00 pm
Knowing few truths, too youthful, choose,
No use for rules, too poor for morals.
Two views, both fools, accuse,
Loose tongues ruin their world.

Must they struggle and fight all their lives?
Into groups, they divided themselves, 
Absolute truths and nonsense,
Both destroyed by their own kind.
Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? 
Is any suffering like their suffering?

They copulate and make offspring,
Die, their children die, their children die,
While they're still alive they mate,
Great minds think alike, again,
And again generations later they fight

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Gord

2022-11-29 10:02 am
Phalanx, already made plans with Ahab.
Enemies, whales , their emails: 'save as'.
Eventually their money exchanges hands,
A ribcage cracks, a heart swells so thick.

Revenge, already made plans, rain dance,
Polearms for the bad man, stained glass.
Both man and animal inevitably acquiesce,
The old barn will fall upon the sand.

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Gord

2022-11-25 08:44 pm
As the fists hits the pavement, he changes
'Ignorance' he cries as he flails.
He denies what he feels and streams cable,
Internet and escapes what is real.
He is afraid of it, greatness, fame,
So he spends a lifetime playing.

C minors and B major, sustain,
Weeks later he liberates them,
Showing what a monster can be.

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Gord

2022-11-24 12:02 am
She cried too late, she surmises,
Where the water hits the sky she relates,
Relating further as the distance gains,
Relationships were never her game.

Decisions in haste are still decisions made,
Whether the bars bend makes no difference,
You still lived in a cage.

She is indivisible from a man, 
She decides in a rage,
This divides her, divided in half, her life changes.
Her children are the product of mistakes.

She cried too late, she surmises.
Famine, she decides. 
Pestilence, plague, flames,
Venom from the viper's fang,
Which she places upon the lambs that wail.

Take me away, she whispers to nobody there.
Take me away, she formally dresses, playing,
Addressing her former self, she was taken away,
Far from the pain that she feels everyday

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Gord

2022-10-26 02:34 am
Alone, he works, 
A loan, he works,
Alone he works his loan off,
Alone of course.
And alone in the dark he hopes,
For a road that leads north.
A lot like a microphone,
like a diving horse of war,
Spoken to, of, admired so,
By eye, tongue or sword

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