Gord

2014-08-12 12:00 am

In jealousy they salt the earth,
An appearance for my demise,
I die and no tear falls perched,
A fitting design for a tyrant.
In jealousy you all despise.

Hypocrites stall the trade of curd.
Poetically their dreams are poor,
No science behind an abstract score,
Chipping in a two cent piece,
When the wishing well is already full. 

Gord

2014-06-24 12:00 am

Founded in response to clamor,
A missive written by cowards.
I found it couldn't be read aloud,
Without the sound of laughter.
I also found it dismissive,
Critical issues are clear.
An attack on my character,
Expound from the rear.
I respond with kisses,
The critical issue is context.
So it appears, they fear progress.
They fear a progression of issues,
So it appears, they clearly want this.

Gord

2014-06-16 12:00 am

Those with arsenic bedfellows, exposed.
Due to the TV show they gained exposure.
Closure to a chapter of chaos and rapture.
Posturing to a new hope, classically,
In hope that he masters poseur culture²;
How dramatically he captures folk,
Beards sip wine in¹ balcony of their brother.
It's the framework of laughter;
Silently I laugh as they excuse them both³,
Rendering their will less valid, excusing oath;
Adopting a framework of passtimes,
Instead of finding, lying among those guilty,
Chastising the filthy for soiled torn clothing.
Discarding carelessly the heart of an oak,
Instead of seeding they favour blind hope;
Sans man, would the trees still grow?
Forlorn will animals flourish?
The hands of man conceive the future, though,
Often he lacks the means to nourish.
The man will scream of price of grain, though,
Often he just lacks the means for omnipotence.

Footnotes:
1. latin for 'on the'
2. i.e. hipsters
3. unnecessary explanations given

Gord

2014-06-11 12:00 am

I dander,
To her I cling tightly,
In her I find me.
In me she finds her;
So clothesline or a ligature,
Is just a state of mind being.
At least, that's what I'm seeing;

So I pander,
I find the back end of a hand,
Which leaves me more filled with anger.
Yet everyday I manage.

Until I found out the sun is dangled,
So perhaps too, the moon is dangled,
Leaving me in anger.
My love in the clutches of another,
My whole life fandangled;

Gord

2014-04-09 12:00 am

A moonlit night,
The perfect time,
To play my guitar,
While my mirror shines.
Wholesomely,
I build my melody,
I win my fight.
A shooting star!
I play for her heart,
Still I find no departure,
I still long for my woman.
To die beside her.