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.
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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.
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