Gord
2024-07-29 10:13 pm
Vermilions, Amber, Vermin, red, in anger. Verily, yellow dances, Keep dancing, he says, And slaps her. Verify me a fact, liar, Orange becomes vermillion, So what will yellow become, Tallow or cum on the skin? Life, wears thin, and dives. I think upon green, yellow presides, Beyond the goddess worship, lies, Anger. I think a lot about their side. I think they lie about their sides, I think a little red should suffice. Vermillion, yellow, a bit of pride, Call me coward, feed those ideas, A million bits, red and canvas mine.
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Gord
2024-07-25 10:38 pm
Shine bright, diamond, Beneath the veil, skin. Brimming, a stage kiss. Iris, it irritates, The yellow exists. Blind, tulips remiss, Four lips but a mess. The beauty, she says, Is when you miss me, she says, Things about empathy, grace, My other exes, she says, My friend, she says, In the end, she says goodbye, But that was her intention, She says.
Gord
2024-07-22 12:49 am
Egg Yolk, turmeric, rare. Mostly about appearances, Vitamin b12 and Riboflavin. Such is the fellow person, Complex, whole in concept, Definitive, yet unborn. Kinfolk, rhetoric, fare, Mosly about appearance, Enlightenment, revenge. Mild, is the field's air, Be someone, she said, As she left, I yelled: "I'm certain".
Gord
2024-07-21 08:49 pm
Yellow, and a bit of blue, Both, I, and you. Purple, Lilac, I just care not for it. Just like you never cared for me, Or any of the things that I thought. Fetch mother, friends, for comfort. Tell your co workers, or consort. I, no longer for dramatic concert, Agriculture of the hallway, march, July, august or months of autumn, Yellow, burst into skies of orange. See If I toss and turn about it. Like, he drives a porche, owns gold, Fire and opal in his coat pockets. Like, the eyes of horses see god, They see not much beyond carrots, Understand little of soap, clothes. Like, maybe you cared for poems, Little for poets, less even for prose.
Gord
2024-07-18 04:48 am
Forewarnings, foreboding, more, of the same, More... For: wants, colors, change, can mean more, Foreign from yesterday, and for tomorrow. For you, though, it meant ropes, choking, No more prose, or poems about fucking, Though, for you I wrote a few of those. To cast a shadow like Gord's gamboge: Wars at home, wars at the coast, Wars over gold, wars over posts, What is war, when you fight it alone? Yellow mustard that stains your soul.
Gord
2024-07-16 01:39 am
Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange, But the yellow never changes in you, Does it? Thorn forest, there grows roses. Though tulips, begonia warn you, The world is full of your kin, Thoroughbred horses, Who rub their backs in shit. You are a squid that inks, then drinks it. I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit, Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing. You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias. So, though two lips beg on, like au jus, You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze. I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools... Whose blue oceans brown in pollution, Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion. You are a fun person, is my conclusion, Maybe red can change to an orange, Blue, though, can never be less blue, You can never really be a better person, Just accept yourself, I love you.
Gord
2024-07-09 12:26 am
View from Toronto, others, also. Best seen, like without follow. A shadow, born of a shadow, How can it fathom less hollow, Habitual patterns in a modern world? Coming tomorrow is gun conflicts, Cult worship, communion with objects. The coward screams like an apostle. Future prospects, like luminous stars, Lay dinosaur bones in scarlet houses. Bloodshed so widespread and obvious, Like polearms in the side of your horse, Desire and goals become simply doors, Where do theirs divide from yours? Like ingots, in fire or war.
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