Gord

2014-08-21 12:00 am

No gain for loss,
No pyrrhic victory,
Due course.
No force of sympathy,
homeopathy, anthropology,
from the horse.
No, mostly poor choices.
Voices ringing with phones dead.

No voices in his head,
Scream morality.
of course.
No soldier gains a victory.
sans cost.
None recognize the courage,
of Hailey's comet.
So the gunfire blazes onward.

Amongst the slain, are the slain.
Those who shoot have bullets same.
My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza,
Which I modify to fit in holster,
As exactly as I imagined her,
Far above a reasonable caliber.
For a man who lacks resources,
For as a woman he lacked chorus,
Pestilence amongst the formal courtships.

The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

Everyone is so depressed,
Though no one likes a downer,
As such casts frowns upon the Frowner,
And thus becoming frowns themselves,
Lusting after laughter,
Mad and frown obsessed,
Coat the world in spite of love or hate,
Diethyl Ether,
If I entertain the hatred one more hour,
I may get a bullet in my chest.
If I entertain my love for higher power,
I may still get a bullet in my chest.
Though no one likes a downer,
I'll admit that I'm depressed,
I wish I could be smart and know it all,
But I'll confess;
I'm not, and I don't.
Thus I walk unto another test,
Often times my thoughts are downers,
This is why I acquiesce.

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

2014-08-01 12:00 am

Out in the doldroms, it's just a cold world.
Winds of change brew but die in a wave fold.
I'm incapable of change, 
You're incapable of the same.
So it must be predetermined, 
Hard determinist actors mimic a proper stage.
Lately I've been looking for a cage,
To preordain my life to hide from slaves.
Complacency locks people in a cage,
Claim preordain is to lie of the blame.
Out in the cold world, you make your own.
Ride the wind or die in a wave fold, 
If you're incapable of change,
Often your life is predetermined based on status,
So if the last thing I see is a image phallic,
Last thing they see from me is one right back.

Gord

2014-07-30 12:00 am

The illumination now seems like magic,
Flashing fights amid darkening background.
Giants no longer able to wish to fight,
Only to die to be back among the pack,
To re-ignite, to fight from higher ground.
Ironically battle is lost by those with the foundry.
Their heaven lacked the fortifications necessary.

The Sophist

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I hear a voice,
A voice that is screaming,
Words with no meaning,
From lips I can't lean to,
If I try.

By chance or by choice,
By passion or comfort,
One or one hundred,
Sounds you can run through,
In your mind.

If you give it a try,
You can accidentally bike out onto the road,
Get hit by a car,
You can get drunk and die,
Body falls on a button,
Makes the world explode,
It isn't that hard.
If you're not young or retarded.

Theseisms destroy,
All classical meaning,
Those labels you're dreaming,
I'm going to eschew them,
If you try.

Sit back and rejoice,
I'm not trying to free you,
Nor'm I trying feed you my truth,
View beauty in tandem,
Anytime.

Life isn't a crime,
Keep your mind on a lovely abode,
Eyes watching the north star,
You can get drunk and not die,
Live all that is written,
'tis the will of the poet,
La palmure! J'am trop tard!¹
Soft sophist; sophisticated hardly.

Footnotes:
1. La palmure...tard "The web! I'm too late!"

Gord

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Soul searching, to quench my thirst.
Burning coal. Dense smoke. Smouldering.
Yearning whence, we control the hearse.
Returning self-control and sense,
Only to those left shouldering.
Soul surviving artist dreampt the worst:
All of my love to her,
All of her love in return.
All for I have yearned.
Once dreams do I now incur,
Nightmares embraced with au revoir,
Left to die without concern.
Simply to never again be reborn.
Chorus Sings.

The Sophist

2014-05-15 12:00 am

Prithee those afore me,
Leave or die away,
If only for a moment,
Prithee chance to meditate.

The Sophist

2014-05-10 12:00 am

Education in some countries is just pure sophism,
I decree to stop this,
This writ from the wrists of the Sophist,
The Prophet of Modern Economics decrees fatwas,
I decree a fatwa on stockpiling gross product,
A fatwa on Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabanna.
I decree a fatwa on the arms race and the misconduct and
 misappropriated actions committed by the powers meant to
 help us.
Or at least help make shit less like a world of make-shift
 shiffs chaotic,
With less false promises to put less narcotics,
In the streets, our food supplies, and antibiotics,
All these soup lies make me vomit,
World spirit will not die,
But it crawls,
Dragging body behind hands,
Counting months in brief mnemonics.

The Sophist

2014-04-29 12:00 am

I'd strike out the sun for harming sinews,
This service I'll pay myself as a fine,
Enlarger of kingdom if ever I die,
'queathing my soul for the roar of a lion.

I giveth thee lukewarm blood of a newborn,
God my appetite; I hunger for power.
Shrew Lord of perpetual night liveth nigh,
Covered from danger in half-lighted fog.

Co-sign and write before bloodlines congeal.
Our magic will bring desolation to smog.
Fill the lines afore 'why?' and 'oh sigh'
Flog grace and damnation 'till three parts combine.

The Sophist

2014-04-25 12:00 am

Self circled in dirt,
Drawn via stick,
To conjure Lapland giants,
Keeping them sic,
Self free from hurt,
To conjure vagrants and larrikins,
Doing battle in mine eyes,
Cain's mark upon my lamb skins,
Letters in twine.
Speaking names in droves of demons,
Melodic tunes 'twixt thought and time,
Emblems of the saints and spirits,
'Mephisto, please, appear and rise!'
Ut appareat et surgat Mephistophilis!
A basilisk thus clouds mine eyes.
'Switch form you beast, but please don't die!'
Smoke appears to change the guise,
'Return to me Franciscan Monk!'
By magic I am blindly drunk,
Mephisto doth appear to me,
Apparently, he says, with ease.
But apparently his own volition,
Per accidens he blessed my wishes.
'I charge thee wait upon my life,
Do what Sophist shall command,
Be it moon to fall from night,
Oceans all to swallow land,
Orient wife with adjunct girls,
Harvest the seas of opulent pearls.
Surgat nobis dicatus The Sophist!
Pray devoutly to the prince of hell,
Confounding home with Elysium,
The Sophist;
To Whom Sophist dedicates himself.'
Conjuror laureate beyond control,
Mephisto a piece;
Mystery whole.

Kodyboi

2014-04-23 12:00 am

I remember when we broke up the first time.
I remember trying to do nothing.
Saying "this is it", like a Jackson hit.
I remember not seeing you for about a month.
I remember waking up,
I remember remembering a punch in the mouth,
Reminding me to chart future relationships out.

I'm calling it off.
The wedding and the dates you liar.
I'm telling you off this time.

We'll never, ever ever get back together.
Go talk to your friends. Talk to mine.
Waste your time,
Spend your time playing pretend.
End up like Islam on the Balkan Island.

I'm really going to miss writing.
Miss writing is miswriting,
Misleading my idols into the trivial.
Hiding the infinite potential on vinyl.
Throw on the CD, it's more indie than mine.
More John Frusiante than girls from Niandra.
So for another month I'l find peace of mind.

So you called me up,
To talk about like love, but no luck.
Because I was like, and he was like.
and they were like.
Even his parents didn't like him.
So he was like, ugh, boring.
and I'm always touring, so like, fuck him.

We're never, ever, ever, getting back together.
Your friends balk, and my friends bawk.
So the whole thing is pretty complimentary.

The Sophist

2014-04-22 12:00 am

The Ninety Nine Percent?
Represent yourself and fuck majority,
Fuck sitting in a tent,
Fuck sitting in an era,
Where lives are fucking spent,
In jails within America,
The Other One Percent.
They rot while you prepare,
Let it die,
And try again.
Go get high,
And find a pet,
In the whole world's seven bil',
The Land of Free's three fifty mil',
The Liberated Five percent,
Something there disturbs me still,
In jails there's ten times seven mil'.
Metal barring concrete tents,
The Captive;
Occupying One Percent.

The Sophist

2014-04-21 12:00 am

In the name of women's rights,
Two young men get pissed and die,
By the blade in his own hand,
By the rope he himself tied.
In the name of women's rights,
To never find out why,
To never hear converse opinions,
A mental homicide.
Bitches screaming loudly,
'til their voices touch the sky.
A lot of them are guys,
Barring men from their own brethren,
In the name of women's rights.
Hoards of them unite;
Birds in search of civil war,
Spread their wings in flight,
Planning only in the sun.
They tear away the night,
Blocking doors and bearing torches,
Forcing entry via fight.
As such, I fear I might,
Find my way to unknown speaker,
And be confronted via knife,
By fanatics without wives,
Or fanatics without husbands,
Living stark perverted lives.

The Sophist

2014-04-15 12:00 am

Is staff all insubordinate,
Or management defunct?
Will anybody fill the holes,
Of corporations fucked?
Busy-bodied filthy moles,
Art of ethics trumped.
On cliffs she has me climbing poles,
'Till brain's a bluish funk,
In defiance of their shallow souls,
I tie my rope and jump,
Economically concordant soul,
Laughing, I spelunked.

Kodyboi

2014-04-15 12:00 am

A spark of excitement,
The riot van quietly rolls silently.
A flash of light, A firefight ignites.
Tonight is night, and it seemingly flies by.

To wake up in a daze with beauty deified,
In an illusion, or a pool of your own blood, useless.
Truncheons let loose and looser yet the coppers too.
Two men's fates hastened to a slate,
One an enemy, and one of the state.
One to die in his place,
One to die as a lopper, name in disgrace.

The Sophist

2014-04-10 12:00 am

It's not easy being green.
It's not easy helping people make their own disease.
My name is Unimportant; 
I carry scopolamine flowers,
And I pay nothing for it.
My name?
I'm Confused;
I carry scopolamine flowers giving greetings profound.
Playing God of the hour,
Fleeting bodies abound.
Falter and fumble and fall to the ground;
Witnessing light of a paradise found.
Leading the blind,
With my feeble eyes,
Misplaced moral outrage,
Attempts to rewind.
To see druidic days,
Where there's bodies unfounded.
Peat bogs set ablaze,
Simple murders unsounded,
Lacking cause,
Mental haze killing thousands,
Our future disgraced,
Pelves smashed and heads pounded.

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.