The Sophist
2016-12-28 12:00 am
Bird sings low Everywhere it goes Solo Volume decreased Old Crow can't hear Intricacies Flyin' from old notes Higher than most tho Song ain't loud Used to be Bird's quiet Crazy Speaks Feathers in beak Live Vibes to the beat Heat Released Birds flapping their wings Squawking their beaks Bending their knees Leaving their feet Lotus grows pink Cutting through deep Low melodies Low sounds of the songbird Played on repeat
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Gord
2016-12-20 12:00 am
Pastures dry, the people see, Move on and feel their freedom, Seldom hearing people eaters. Creature seeking not being a career, Having not done it for twenty years, Seeking all monsters to be sought. Tables turned, the people rot. Yearning on for cannot be. Informed thoughts cannot read, Nor breed cattle to buy bread. Masters of a humble rest; Grow their own bread, Farm their own cattle, Fight their own battles, Propagating views to their peers, Which idealize each other, Making careers of judgement.
The Sophist
2016-12-14 12:00 am
Whatever I did I did it myelf Fucked God and the Devil Miserable Accosting young rebels When I was a kid I sat on a shelf Hiding in darkness 'til I piss'd myself Not fearful of Argus A game where amid We sought and dispelled My mother found these Piss covered shelves No brother beside me She helped when I hid She'd hear if I yelled Instead she heard beveled Breakfast cereal Make music of rainfall Taking blame for the good Forsaking myself Fuck with God and the Devil I play songs as well Drawing crosses in trebles All over the grid I marvel at how When I look at these crosses They offer some help
Gord
2016-12-12 12:00 am
Tomorrow is nothing but an intervention, Yesterday holding the true intention. Yet spend to stay powerful at the station, Your people power toward a cowards end, Politically investing on a shorter scale. Marking with pen and paper, clearing chambers, Tomorrow's makeshift inventions tooled on sale. As if someday a unicorn escaped their stable, Marked the day ideally we first fought in anger, Then paid extorted reparations as a gamble.
Gord
2016-12-06 12:00 am
Feather aloft, with folded wing, Birds gliding as the summer sings, Turning only to check the fitting. Bastion of the great lords, Last swinging his great sword, Breaking bones he sees fit. A life in three parts, As though it was, And so it is. Life lays it's judgement, As one tries to live.
Gord
2016-11-26 12:00 am
My mind idyllic, I lye beside a follower, So follower am I. A flower grower, tending to groves, No leader am I. No army can I raise. No raze can justify. So I roll a joint, Get real high.
Gord
2016-11-24 12:00 am
Once great poems in the form of epic, Tragically short was my bite of danish, Therefore I re-post a poem from 2012. Current relevance being to a shelf.
The Sophist
2016-11-17 12:00 am
It's you I want I just mean Do it Want me I'll scream Drown them More feelings Of wanting Longing For something Aloof Trot of the hoof Fall from the floor Land on the proof Smile at the whore Missing her tooth Trying to score Good times with the roof Ease to cool her Down and pass out Songs of abusers Speaking of peace Echo through darkness Then she falls asleep For something Standoffish I just mean It you whose the problem Not me I just solve 'em I can't be wrong 'Cuz I'm peaceful And honest And a really chill guy If you don't mind me talking At lengths just to show I'm not racist I'm mocking Their race 'Cuz it's funny Not Angry Just Loving That Pain From Above Automatic Dark static Creatures of habit Throwing outrage around Myself I won't have it Outraged at myself Myself never planning To be holed in a cell Living under you bandits You won't have it yourselves Yourselves being outraged At all of yourselves For all of your work Education and health Yell at your brothers Strangers Mothers Escaping from hell By throwing dirt At the world Insurmountable selves By the billions All with a version of self I'm doing it now Laying a seed To expand And develop I mean I just want to scream These guys I girl dog about I'm mad 'Cuz I'm me
Gord
2016-11-15 12:00 am
Classical antiquity in his eyes, In the future he sees nothing. No hummus made of pain, No main containing animal. How will his likeness continue, With same vein, similar virtues? In the mind propaganda becomes true. Selling Kerchiefs with his likeness, The future becomes today, Yesterday's pathway impassable, Except for by train. A smile in the rain.
Gord
2016-11-09 12:00 am
Dreams aloft, desires of the sky, She dreams for me clouds and rain, Misplacing my characters, Rewriting their pain. Then chastising me again, What is their trade? Perhaps destined by fate, What is their patriotism made of? What happens with the sky at night, Do clouds disappear and birds not fly? Do the stars not shine? Does the moon guide, Even if forgotten by society, Too ignorant to find it? It stays aloft, as my dreams and desires. And she keeps for me only mockery, pity, conjecture upon a lectern of pure disdain, Judgement passed by the clouds and the rain, For everything she dreamt of she was. And everything I evade.
The Sophist
2016-10-26 12:00 am
Waiting for a miracle to save us, And we have saviors, But they're controlled by secret agents, Waiting for a miracle to save them, And they have saviors, But they're controlled by secret agents. His father wrote his epitaph, I know. He captured the hearts of the young and the old. God given talent given highest awards. He was yesterday's child, So the day he got old... Like midnight's stars he disappeared. Fagments of influence rapidly spread, Directing the youth of the afteryears, But the man wasn't dead, I can prove it, 'cuz dead mean don't sweat.
Gord
2016-10-19 12:00 am
Continuing to writhe in pain, As the water runs through me. Hopefully one day they find a cure for being. For being alive most days can be aside, Or sutured as the village Miser, Who found his wealth in similar lies: The bones and arrows of similar lines. Propelled forward by similar desire.
Gord
2016-10-14 12:00 am
If the American government told you, life over death, Would you just believe them, and choose to live? If the American government told you, We're just having fun, drawing lines in the sky, Would you believe them? If your president warned you, Of the coming apocalypse, Would you believe the Americans? Or choose to live?
Gord
2016-09-21 12:00 am
One imagines themselves mighty, Brightening the sand green, Perspiring with the people, Irradiated as it may be, It feeds the mind, for free. No future winter seeming fair. Porous players will evolve, With sinister gods favored. Last of a virtue, Patronizing and redefining the former earth, Denying that which lies between our worlds.
Gord
2016-09-08 12:00 am
I would probably just tell her, I miss you, and let her know I still think about her. I would probably let her know, that I was doing much better and thank her, for the strong advice she gave me years ago, and I would let her know it helped me grow.
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