Gord

2018-12-12 08:58 am

Wheels but partition,
A PALS secrets, 
Foreseen at distance,
No team so clean,
A fallacy hideous.

She spins the wheel, deals,
A vowel to vie, consonant,
She speaks volumes, columns,
A fool to buy love constant,
For I is one you cannot buy,
She screams from the distance.

Gord

2018-12-07 12:28 pm

Lately, I write universal,
Rody Walker disapproves:
"I see through you,
Ethereal, feigning too close,
To touch a virtue.
Oh, feeling, careening mostly,
Posts passing, tongue lashings,
More dashing, floor, gas pedal,
More dashing, more dashing,
One says, like a clause."

Platinum ring, yet,
Heart diamond, set.
What's happening, please,
Forget my misdeeds, luck,
A hat in a ring, belts,
One generation fights back,
Another fights against.

Poetry succinct, mispelled,
Written on cocktail napkins,
Waitress dismayed and going,
Thrown to a well indistinct,
Dreams worth more than coins,
More than love or poinsettias,
Less two roses that grow together.

At least,
If I throw my feelings,
Into the well they drink,
One day they will think of me.
Although,
If I know I'm leaving,
Into the well I go, no warning,
or unthinking. 
Tomorrow,
If I am untoward,
Bloated upon our meeting,
Give me shelter from the storm.
Or at least a greeting.

Gord

2018-11-24 04:41 pm

Let's get lit
Have you ever felt a time so lit,
Like this.
Blessed, dressed,
Comfy sweaters,
It's Christmas.
Have you ever felt a time so lit.

I guess, I'm dressed in it,
I'll spend the whole day with my friends,
Chilling.
Mingling, God Willing, Song Singing,
Painting pictures of my brothers swinging,
I guess, I'm blessed because,
I can feel it's Christmas.

We get presents (ooh)
We get Phillips Hues.
Everything you wanted all year,
I've got just for you.

Let's get lit
Have you ever felt a time so lit,
Like this.
Blessed, dressed,
Comfy sweaters,
It's Christmas.
Have you ever felt a time so lit.

Gord

2018-11-14 07:13 am

Wisdom, do anything for love,
One cannot administer feeling,
Smoking trees and tending buds;
Ashore a flood, Amore my love,
Shores complain not of fumbles,
Nor bees of bumbles.
Horse contained not by hurdles,
Nor flees or humbled.
No fleas or bugs, or jungles.
A girl, reserved forever, supple,
Personal, plain, non functional,
Is she a butt joke, or punchline?

Regret, or spend time a spindle,
Two too many, to twine a stick,
Rope simply frayed on four ends.
Portend of trouble, 
Poor tend to nothings,
Their lovers forever troubling,
Who casts shadow twice a valley,
Humble?

Gord

2018-11-09 04:40 pm

Railing, mirth like nail files,
Failure at the last mile, paling,
Valencia mailing, orange letters:
"Hello, my love endearing,
Are you not hearing my words,
Cello, or Othello reading."

Orator deceiving, apportioned more,
For boys, they are but fleeting,
Foreign peering at another girl.

Teenage to be, card or palm reading,
Do my feelings mean nothing more?
A chore on your list of meetings,
Suit, Tie and your railing grasped tightly.
I might be a fool for lies and deceit,
Ununique like an onion, carrot or leek:
"Choose me please, you need to eat.
Color me pink or beat me anew, kneed,
Until I am bread, so says the meat."

Your railing a crutch, always needed,
Like carrot bread has disgusting features,
You have disingenuous dealings with realism.

Gord

2018-11-05 10:53 am

My heart filled with love,
Only my paintbrush coveted.
Simply a coward with canvas,
To give forms anew, forever,
Formula new, for you toward,
Perhaps to give in retort.
To highlight, grey,
Brush dusty and disdain,
My desires of microphones,
Speakers though, just saying.

poetessdarkly

2018-11-05 01:27 am

Fruitful sword lily ablush
 Nestled in gardens lush
Pigments triumph aplenty
Resilient verdant sentry

Colossal erectile shoots
Ingrain deep abyssal roots
Precious tis platinum spun
Abreast a rising sun

Glorious tis a supple reign
Aubade a beauteous refrain
Vibrant a gladiolus plant
Borne on Gaia’s decant

Traverse archaic path
Helios waning wrath
Shadows await dusk
Absconding obligant musk

Gord

2018-11-01 06:54 pm

Reading of lives I enjoy deceit,
My letter bold, italic and neat:
"Please hear me, Greek, leek,
I sometimes write nonsense,
Lest hope you would hear it."

Leading my lines,
Foreseeing poetically,
Receiving a liar guilty.
He says:
"For stanzas today, teacher,
I stand like bread features,
My brother filet beside me."
For once he doesn't lie,
Looks for the sky, sees ceiling.
Nothing aground marks his feeling,

Seeing the concrete,
He remarks of life:
"To tryst so wildly, again,
Would Vivaldi paint so vividly?
Probably, and with champagne,
because his name has dignity."
So seeing his window,
He thinks of rain.

Gord

2018-10-24 05:31 pm

Bartlett pears, dare i say, or shout,
Without is life austere, my world grey.
Some juicy poetry I heard today:
"With my hands so sticky,
A world become so tricky,
So quickly the armoire useless,
Of rickety fences, my house is."
I spoke it, To save face,
Bartlett pears are on their way.

Gord

2018-10-21 01:49 pm

The valley is my grave
For I sit within the mouths of caves
I shall not move for days
Nor weeks nor years
For even if I'm paid in flies 
My destiny, Tyler, I won't deny
For one day when I die
My body will atone
For I could eat a stone twice my size
My destiny, Tyler, I won't deny
My afterlife, a Bulwark Frog
Lo, to be a tadpole of one's own life
For now, I just write songs
Fantasies to make my family fear the valley's size
Then bulwark on

Gord

2018-10-21 08:56 am

Why write technical poetry?
Skylight he remarks, opens,
Beams of light Caepoeria,
Room a knight of California,
Adjoined, special upholstery,
Coins, for centuries.
My king coiled, 
Toiling thy rings,
By fools finding hands,
Bringing foil to my picnics.
Thinking spoilt,
Singing doyle,
Drunk stringing his violin,
To play brittle.
How would I do, Aemula?
Is my world to soon, exposed,
Or steeped for your future?
A mule for god,
How would I too, butcher,
Myself, user and administrator?
I'm you for Claude, Europe,
Sugar, or urban woodland.
Frogs bulwark their homeless,
I'm too for piles of durance,
Furthermore for living fulcrum,
Furthermore, for here it comes.
Words technical, sure, but speaking of,
Can I not just turn and bite my thumb?

Gord

2018-10-16 06:37 pm

Imagine your achievements dreamed,
To swim upstream, one's valor full,
Salmon like calendar, won tomorrow.
River colander rusted and massive,
Is this my love, and forever after,
To be strained by dirty captives?
I magic your feelings careening,
To sink a damn, one's cup too full.
Salt mounds like ashen piles,
Too often borrowed by a saline cult.
Maybe my faults found by asking,
To speak upfront, one never knows,
Maybe fault-lines, foundations cracking.
To be a tan, army man, evil being,
May be taught lies fundamentally ethic,
Baby breaking, tied to shouting rhetoric.

Gord

2018-10-16 05:56 pm

In my city they wish for dreams,
Fish in streams, with no disease.
Innocently they live of demons,
Give no lead, monster.
Imposter husband,
Who touches a lot,
Possibly you are of honors,
Kissing no others,
Triage cupboards, heed.
For up above there is no seer,
Magical being informs our love,
Only me.

So where mist is aqua,
My spirit is awestruck,
A blessed potato, tucked.
My stomach is full,
I have work too abrupt,
Where a kiss is awkward,
Kids living squalid.

So in my city, of missed ague,
I will breakthrough,
My break through, a great due.
A comedic debut, no laughing,
A great deal of scoffing at me.

My blessed potato, to keep me warm,
To be eaten, and too returns.
As I scrape these tile floors,
Let no-one know, current location:
Somewhere forward, even from tomorrow.

Gord

2018-10-11 03:08 pm

She writes fallacies of nobody,
Highlights for her hair color,
Callously she laughs with glee,
Ire beauty and young bravery.
Screaming in doorways sobriety,
I like to think she knows me not.
Picking flowers from her yard,
Policy alike her start, mother,
Discovering what to be, rather,
Honesty like her heart, lover,
It beats nobody clever. Until.

Forgive my desires: two stepping.
Your teacup leaking, I laugh still.
Sieve steeping, a living actress,
And to live needing? is this banter?
Definition in short order, leaving.
For give my empires to Stephen,
An idea more Corey than Cancer.
A ballet dancer, but a thick boy,
Holes among left awood with joy,
Man ideal for lawyers and cantors,
For one who teaches is forgotten,
Cotton tarnished in an oily oil.
Royalty royal and parched to often,
His voice softens, off his head,
For I too seek enjoyment, spread.

Gord

2018-10-10 01:06 pm

Soon, my rooftops ventures velour,
While his felt cap.
So my life could be but parkour,
Hostile to this running man,
Denying his own strategy.
Assume my caricature ugly,
Underlying themes, nothingness,
Prion disease and brain eating.
I scream, away, shoo
Like strained water, drained,
Boon by foolish penmanship true.
Dry humor, dishes in an apartment,
States his wishes, his way were apt,
One could have but half, contrite,
In manacles, retarded and live happy.
Perhaps education provides a tragedy,
In return, for pardon of inadequacy.
So, I too tiptoe guarded garrisons,
My bliss beheld past,
Soon their life could be of boars.
Therefore course I lick, 
Stamps compelled to stick,
What am I? A Saliva Lich?
On course to death? Rich.
I would embrace the quick,
Lest this lifetime of fists.

Gord

2018-10-04 03:54 am

Waiting, spicy feelings,
Hands tingling, vitae.
Dial again,
A few moments away,
His reckoning,
My fate.
Fountain, fairy meeting,
Handsome thing, you love?
Felt such was nonsense,
Your heart a curd, confess.
Your heart abscess, turd,
You depart as if fuss undue,
Who could stoop so low?
To like remarks of word,
A lonely teenager,
To be touched absurdly.

Headlights flashing,
His fools, my athletes,
Picture captured,
Is this your image?
Then post a back link,
Or get your ass kicked.

Gord

2018-10-03 12:14 pm

Tribe, should I fight?
Sunder wood, my life took,
Can I have another?
While wife cooks, 
Thunder looms.
White, she relies on tools,
Not the lies in schoolbooks,
Taught too to sophist fools.

Identity, laughter, a memory looks,
I would be a king if I were a rook,
Or switch places, if I were a crook,
Knew rules well, or sting of the hook.

The Sophist

2018-10-02 07:38 pm

Whatever they do find
With whomever
I don't mind
Though I don't believe
They must be alien
I lost time
Swear I'm not blind
I look and see
Words in the breeze
Tongue-tied
They oft-lie
Telling tales of talking trees
Ghosts will moan
Beg and plead
Selling rhymes
But not this guy
Not Today
I don't got time
Not for pizza
Not for pie
Not for holding others up
Just to drop them when I die
Today I built a shelf
So they can sit there when I'm gone
Thinking about nothing
While they listen to my songs