Gord
2014-09-02 12:00 am
I transform retribution, I collide with an enemy, Destined for fusion, Corroding my memory, Crashing the computer, That is me. I open on pretense false, In hopes to gain my loss, Yet no fate goes uncrossed, No face goes on unmarked, No bullet grazes, They self aim and kill marks. In honesty, I hope for their retribution, Not believing what you do, I find no institution for truth, Investigations reveal soot. To conceal boots under sock. Truth should be implied, Secrets shouldn't even be whispered, When no secret knock is employed. Among Imperials, two faces clash, Destroying the child middle, Purpose born was to protect class. Among the tyrants, A sleeping dog, His brother opposite, A sleeping god, Purpose forlorn and meaning lost. Shoot the gun across, regardless, Trees grow from the river, Implying a garden should exist. Yet at the bottom I find no solace. No mythical beast of which to conquer, Nor mythical flower of to tame beasts. So no feast among mythical followers. Sewn feet no longer bother to move. Brooms no longer even bother to sweep. I see Cost front by the citizen, Expected which are also to clean. Past participle's partisan cuts so cleanly, No partisan is left opposite to thee. Clearly, No god laughs, Sincerely, No god falters, And no human shots cast, Except into human carnage. 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. How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible. I stand purportedly screaming peace, Screaming bullets purportedly corpse. I stand in face of uproarious force, Screaming should-haves, Scoring for would-have, Who now will manage. Tired, I cast aside, Casting stones seems now juvenile. Especially in a world this finite, Who needs to choir for killing time? Button press' jest as being less vile, Truth as masked chide, Who now will bandage?
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The Sophist
2014-08-28 12:00 am
My mother thought that being silent was smart. This is why I spent days in the dark, bed-crazed and my heart sobbing. I was ignorant of light blocked by goblins of my mind hoping to keep me trapped in the land of forgotten. Now I'm plodding; plotting my escape daily to find peace whopping, lock it with me in a coffin and die flopping; watching my life pass before my eyelids drop and my chest begins rocking. It's like trainspotting or going yachting; either way it's going to cost me, and either way I'm rotting. I like to believe this is my personality popping, but I also believe that everything I do's common. I'm not smart, I'm not witty, in wealth I'm not sopping. I'm not silent, and I pity the poor for their problems. I'm not here to cheat people or shit on their knowledge. Prithee a moment where people aren't thoughtless; prithee a moment to claim a few losses for a man who silent misfortune made solemn.
The Sophist
2014-08-28 12:00 am
A generation mugging for the camera, Ban them, Have all their shows cancelled. Fight their right to put life at a stand still, Investing in communes of every-day shills, Pushing brands in their hands while they're dancing on pills, What have you to say if they're killing themselves? Porcelain dreams putting dirt in the well, Laptops so hot they deplete all their cells, I believe this is better than hell, A step above; Below everything else. I believe we can rise above self. Rather than die just help everyone else; Setting up systems to help after death. I'm reading from cues I'll admit. There's someone else there; He can't write; I can't think; I'm too dumb; He's too quick. A perfect man split. Think, think, I need another answer, Before this beauty becomes burden, An innovation longing for the grammar.
Gord
2014-08-28 12:00 am
How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible.
Gord
2014-08-27 12:00 am
My hero lacks discourse, Decisions made lack loss. My hero lacks mustard, Dry bread lack lustre. Meat tastes like horse.
The Sophist
2014-08-20 12:00 am
Left-hand turn, Going 'round it widdershins, Seems absurd, If going 'round's done by a prince, Without a girl, A kingdom where two men are kings, Oh, what a world, Full of gay and shiny things, And yet we curl, And limit what we see in dreams, Oh, what a world, Fuck man and girl in sets of fours and threes, We're not worried, We'll get married to our companies, The fucks insured, All sure we're fucked contractually, All sure it's pure, Consummation makes the fuck complete, Seems absurd, You're raised so that your mind competes, Submit to words, Love for nothing, Twiddle your box; Accept defeat.
The Sophist
2014-08-08 12:00 am
First I make suggestions, Then I make demands. With my hands I teach you lessons, Beat you with affection, Bleed in my perfection, Military dance. I've never felt so much, Bliss in my life, With my knife cut a grudge, Head off with a touch, Headlong in my hutch. Present for my wife. I call this self expression, Pissing in my pants, With my rant cause indigestion, Racist in intention, Hostile when I'm questioned, A laugh I think is grand, Apostates cut in sections.
The Sophist
2014-08-07 12:00 am
Don' be 'fraid just don' come back. Don' plan attacks on modern days. They don' like us 'cause we're free, If "free" means happily enslaved. Raped every day but with a smile, Hostility like Abu Ghraib, Graves stone but a worthless trial, We might as well carve frowning faces, Omit names and write words only in dirt. There just write "fags". "Junior pupil at a private school nailed by nerds." Then just laugh at it. Muslims aren't depraved, Lennon even spoke at large of living in a bag. It's freedom in a way, Think about it, Living without caste, Judged only by your spoken word sans judgement 'pon your face. They sort of make a case, I'll even take it off if you can find a private place, It's just less of a disgrace. To think my mid-pubescent beard could not effect my fate. Ignoring shit we hate, We could probably find a pace that we can all relate. Chill music but still rocking in your face, Fat bowl of potato dill salad I created. Personally, I like war with lots of laughs; It can be great. Nothing personal, but I'll crack 'spic and nigger jokes all day.
The Sophist
2014-08-05 12:00 am
My Nicomachean ethics dictate every day, Every day I sleep until I'm late, I place blame on my friends and family, Regarding problems I create, Leading all our lives astray, I pay friends to rape my fiance, Go to church, kneel down, and pray. I waste my life away, Raise my kids like JonBenet, Rotten melons in Easter hay, So well my part I play, Shadows fades, the suns awake. Used socks left a-hang, Stinking up the atrium of the Global Chalet.
Gord
2014-07-31 12:00 am
The wings and bonds of summer upon us, The warmer months warm up on us; Summer denounces winter, for lack of trust, The lack of faith in its cold heart disgust summer. W'ould bring upon us a greater bond, Causes desperation euphoria then falter; To fly upon the ocean, with lack of knowledge, The lack of which is its fold into carnage.
Gord
2014-07-31 12:00 am
My magnum opus produced at my alma mater, The laughter is too great to justify release after.
The Sophist
2014-07-30 12:00 am
Yawn, A boring thought, Moving on. Blah, The time we've fought, Force mignon, For nei' were strong. Plod, Reason/not, Such are battles, Which we ought, Discard to dogs, Trained to chew them. Humdrum, Through coral caught, Stone filled satchels, Path danger fraught, Mind's a fog, Not mad at you though, I'm only mad duly. Doldrums, I wish it would stop, I'm mad at myself, For letting this rot, I'm not just licking frogs, My croak at the moon shows, I only care truly, If you care about you. Pedestrian, Living life at the top, Panopticon cell, And fuck is it hot, But we sit writing songs, I croak at the moon slow, We make a pair fool-ly, Sympathetic, Two lives out of tune, At different ends of the spectrum, Beauty ensuing. Apostates to our parents' dreams, Too old for pride, But maybe peace. We'll love in long strides, A boring thought, Despite defeat, We still move on, Lows bolstering highs, Finding new regimes.
The Sophist
2014-07-23 12:00 am
Law makes obligatory, More than one Nation, To waste business hours, Achieving more profligation. You shall not pass, The whole world may perish, From Brahma to a blade of grass, But you are still here. All uninhibitory, Lord of Creation, You are in all things, You are in every location. View darkness unmasked, The whole world you cherish, Will dissolve in a flash, But still have no fear, Knowing self world dissolves, Ignorant it appeared, You are the heart of awareness, No less, end of story.
The Sophist
2014-07-21 12:00 am
See depths of apathy, In lengths of hair, Like half of me there, Other half in'other room, Gaping blankly it stares there too, Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off in my mind, See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas, 'splayed 'round the front of my being, All this beauty is mine, Even you are in the bounty, You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath my feet. You move me. You are a seed that grew toward this ever-falling tree. Freedom gnaws at nature, A crutching being what's need.
Gord
2014-07-16 12:00 am
Dill pickle chips, I find them delicious. If I could find a fault, a little more salt. Then they would be where sweet chili heat is.
The Sophist
2014-07-15 12:00 am
Belly poked by intrauterine demise - infanticide - now I can poke her in her thighs. I fantasized that maybe the baby would have cried, or that I would have stopped it, crazy by the pain I feel inside. Now I swear there's nothing there. I lost the key to the divine. I dreamed a life of orgies but my sex life is austere. Who cares? I drink nightly, and dream of an affair with a tryst. I jot prose for love not there and recite them to the one that I declare. I'm sick from life; to levy death is fair. I'm too sick to spread my sickness. Give them death, who fucking cares?
The Sophist
2014-07-04 12:00 am
He speaks in subterfuge, He makes myth from animal bones, 'scribes visions of mothers viewed postnatal, He calls them "future you". He claims Caesar's final breath found you. He sees a subtle use, And has you build his thrones. He's too busy to view. He gives you your fill, You attack at his illusions, 'til your confusion is ill. I write folk songs for fools. Without steps I reach your homes, Crying disses of another's views most fatal I call them "false truths", I hand out bauble knives to the Fountain Youth, I burn the stable spruce, And make off with the stones, I take the dragons too, I live just to kill, I attack at your confusion, Pushing your illusions downhill.
The Sophist
2014-07-03 12:00 am
Another victory means I'm undone, Wars are lost where battles won, I can no longer fight with spirits dead, The bards asleep, the songs are done. Pyrrhus produced a record for fun, Ruined industry in one fell swoop, Breaking critics' thumbs, Sounds of cyanide group hit number one. Perhaps best to join the opposition, For fear that death becomes my own position, My army met attrition, Attrition proved a worthy foe. But if they come, I must not go, For I doth know, sky hide not sun, Nor drums, moon, cloud or snow. I'll shine bright 'til my gallows strung, I saved the Kingdom; Now I'm scum.
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