Mary Steffen

2017-10-17 12:54 am

Going on
Early morning dawn
Morning glow
People go
Searching among southern bay
Love and happiness 

Gord

2017-10-13 11:32 am

Florian mispronounced completely,
Adding elles and a monarchy,
Standard wordplay misused efficiently.
Soap of the mind, floss of the horse,
Cutting our teeth on useless fleece.
Forgetting their needs, people worsen,
Fleeing to worlds sincere yet fleeting.
Spying, leaving decrying yourself not,
Received to cheering regardless,
Archean and poor as thoughtforms are.

The Sophist

2017-10-06 06:55 pm

There's just 22.5 degrees
Not from the bottom to the top, but
In between
Doing nothing and incomplete
Being at the bottom
Pushing Gord in the swing.

Gord

2017-10-05 09:29 am

No honor or Bravery,
Mulled over too long,
Followers betray,
Feelings astray amongst.
Lay waste upon their pores;
Their universe stainless,
Faces like rust;
No steel to steel,
No virtue of thievery,
To steal regardless;
Complacence unjust;

Mary Steffen

2017-10-04 03:28 am

winter home
pure white among us
time of life

Gord

2017-09-28 04:57 am

Feelings in her heart,
Apathy of mind lost,
The world desired,
Earth forgotten,
Therefore pursuant of swine,
Love begotten.

Reading of foreigners,
Yet her poetry declines,
Like Vines, Fine Wines,
Rhyme lines her mind;
Obsessive of forewords
 and forever afters;
Useless goodbyes,
Given in poor wording.

Forgotten is passion,
For words and order,
A husband mastered,
A wife only borrowed.

The Sophist

2017-09-25 12:25 pm

Today I heard a triad
In a weird way it made me feel sad
Can't wait to get home
Get my guitar
Get the chance
To Try that

Yesterday I heard a melody
In an old way it still feels new to me
Can't wait to get out
Get dancing
Get clarity
Inpsiring

Last week I saw an act of kindness
In a good way it made me feel that
My kind is not alone
Not so far
Not fraud in fact
To try that

Tomorrow I'll write a poem
About all the ways I've felt this week
My blindness in a tome
Day blindness
Moon blindness
Blindness off the dome

Right now there's nothing to look at
Immersed in machinery
Not a technocrat
Not a plutocrat
Stopped avoiding art
To try that triad
But make it flat

Gord

2017-09-20 04:07 pm

So sits a homely giant,
Face sagged into manic,
Stone eyelids and mask,
Seeing the world as past,
He undoes his passing;
Leaving literal caves,
Only breaching a cage,
Mitigating his laugh,
He upstages his own fate,
Teaching pupils who stay afraid,
Egg on his dress,
Stag of the forest,
Unwashed, unclean.

Walls silver and platinum,
A giant horse still gaits,
Walks circles then defecates,
Sleeping soundly until dawn;
Enemies however struck down,
Their laughter an afterthought,
Justly he can run far, fast,
Never figuring in absence,
Filling him with maxims silly,
Father pays the bills,
He lives simply.
Simply living a masquerade,
To hide a face so pimply.

Gord

2017-09-15 08:35 am

Piles until the top,
Flies at the skirt,
Pillars of salt,
 of the Earth,
Turtles until bottom,
Fire wherever we are,
Hide whenever lightning strikes,
Deserts eventully finds someone,
Living flame among life is hard.
There is no benchmark for him,
Spent onward is his life quiet,
A ball aptly palmed by oneself, 
Never failures, tailored farewells,
Jokes of the eyelids,
Mind less apt for aperture,
So he mocks and chides,
Fixated on the comical.

Mary Steffen

2017-09-12 10:24 pm

autumn ends
glory days ahead
fall hope came

Gord

2017-09-12 09:42 am

Swords filed down to soot,
Roses thrown at their feet.
No proof of their misdeeds,
Long Forgoing unlikely heroes,
The Earth rolls on it's shape,
Divides by zero then escapes,
Sequence complete,
Even if it seems short of an era.

Could I program a world so full hate?
Only more divisive,
 with my heart to feint on;
Should I find a brush to paint,
I could not,
Nor would I make clay forms,
And force them to mate,
As Satan does.

Who more lovingly than I,
Is timed less?
I would laugh at the sheer thought.
Cakes of dirt and mud pies,
Fed to a princess,
For the world outside she knows not of,
What a austere world to take from.

Mary Steffen

2017-09-09 09:07 pm

Stallion
Prance on
Throughout prairie dust

Gord

2017-09-07 02:05 pm

Farmer Fred drinks a handle,
To quell his anger,
Slamming ramblings on us all.
Although he sleds like fire,
Down doorsteps into the wall:
To chill out angry.

Aria Rozo

2017-08-28 03:53 am

The coming winter should mark the death of my love, 

yet there is nothing to kill.

For her unspoken words burn deeper than sunlight,
light The Eclipse could not seal.

The torrent is relentless
Shakened, awake is the sea

A sacrifice asked of fate
For every victory

Yet I've lost

And so, you, I've won

only for the smallest of eternities

Gord

2017-08-25 11:58 am

Materialism shoddy, 
Outlook potty,
In a world of rocks,
I wish for a mouth chalky,
Ground filled with chalk.
Curve my bell aptly,
Lord of the shinebox,
Grant me world gaudy,
Ending with gold trim,
Upon a golden hem,
Golden sheets, golden beds.
Golden nails,
Golden boards
Golden floors.
Wife scenic,
Life ironic,
Post Modernism.

Gord

2017-08-21 09:20 am

Words leave lips,
A wall of sound,
Then music hits,
His voice lost,
Words meaningless,
Actions listless;
His love awful,
His verse aught too.

The kids quickly learn to run home,
Anyone who find ideals embarrassment,
Ironically find the end of needles;
Peering into the future, fetal,
Their vision worthless unknown;

Gord

2017-08-16 01:55 pm

Umpire of God useless,
Demanding more strikes,
Life swung precarious,
Batter belies himself,
Bent to Gods of strife;
Fate for ball carriers,
Forever them sodomites,
Snipped their genitals,
Cum on their fingers,
Not dick in their minds;
Not men, Nor fire they are,
Born of stone, tower guard,
Born of the mud, wallow on,
Born of the sun?
Pearls, Diamonds and Harps.
Radar dishes begin, fill the sky,
And forever destroy our heart.
Son of the earth,
Yet nothing but sky he remarked.

Gord

2017-08-10 12:17 pm

Me? I once found love,
It made no difference,
They all forget to sub,
And I made no income.
A marriage valueless,
The class clown flubs;

Bell rings and we run,
Fighters embracing,
They man up, Fast t'was.
Master of the gun facing
 Castles of his virtue,
Backs still to the sun;

Sacks filled with their cum,
Save slaves of ignorance,
To every man is worthless.
Except when smoke burlesque,
And living on canned shrubs.
Maybe it should be, unless,
You buy conqueror's seed,
Then smoke it bluntly,
with cannabis, sunglasses on;