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