Gord
2026-06-18 03:27 pm
Never look a fish hook in the mouth, And never have any doubt, I'm fighting my way back home. But, Like radiative waves, I'm mostly out... And I'll never own a house. And I'll never have a spouse, And I'll never upturn her frown. Like oceanic waves, I'll mostly drown, And I'll never bank on being saved. And I'll never look at a fish hook another way, Like the metal corrodes my face, I slowly resolve and stay, And as it pulls me under, I'll let it take me away.
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Gord
2026-06-04 10:00 pm
Little bug: Little pigs, Little frogs, Little slug. Finger work beneath civil tongue: Fish supper, friction with drums. A little brother, too big for hugs, A little bit of dust, bits of rough: Personality, but's and cynical plots, Digital work beneath a given tongue. What would you say to me honestly? That you wish I was crushed? Well, I'm not. I lived never thinking of you much. Where is your response? Little love for little bugs, Simple things, inner calm, bigger cause... More concern for grudges, Than writing another song. Give a little time, you give it up... A little pain, a little age, little fun: Singing about doors that are shut, Invisible cuts that the makeup covers, For a while, until the stage goes dark, Then begins your performance, Entertainment to little bugs.
Gord
2026-03-07 03:51 pm
Where are all your pyramids? You stole my stones... Took my providence. What is a question for? Social dominance? Well stole upon my virulent, Conspiratorial penis and balls. So, stay as born, fisherman, Given, you play with your rod. No limericks or inwardness: Gibberish over impulses, Sickness, et al. Toward the emptiness I fall, Spheres and phallic symbols, Cheers, and then applause.
Gord
2025-05-13 05:39 am
Split lunch, near touch, Dim bulbs, ringed dove. Tired of the pressings, In books for protection. Heightened senses, high centrism, Hybrid ethics, sighted, selfish. Ringed dove, signed confession, I wish love just lasted forever.
Gord
2025-02-14 08:46 pm
Cannot you write of greater things? Or still is life consumed with frings? What do vegetables in a garden say? That they are selfish, wrong, gay, That the old ways have gone away? Carrots are obsessed with sex, Consumed with greed, and peppers, What does sausage on a skillet say? It sits, writhes and screams in pain. Life isn't an arcade machine, You don't put coins in and get to play.
Gord
2024-09-26 09:15 pm
Blue, green, In between, To me? It's everything. But they only see through me, Shield to shield, grit teeth, Never can I achieve peace. It never appealed to me, Supposedly. But, little does, Just a few blue themes. So, to routine... For you, more meaning. Cold reading: "horses, leeches". Vernacular dances, In between: Lavender, Lapis, Cerulean. Javelins, catchers, In between: Distance, anger, Foolishness. But, that's not how they saw me. Target practice, fresh meat, Free of lines like double basses, Yet to see it's own selfish strings. Yet, upon a blue sky, I fly and sing.
Gord
2024-09-25 09:27 pm
Blue, pale sky. What did I miss? The sale price? The halfway line? Brick by bloody brick, They desalt mines. Did you just move away, Get killed, then live again, Just to shiver in place, Wither and die? Were you better off hunting diamonds? Forgive my writing, And erotic sins, For which upon this wit I build. Always right, Above, they fly, Always white, Always wine. Blue cranes from blueprints, Selfish, and high.
Gord
2024-08-13 03:13 am
Yellow, above, I wish you were more blue, Less discussed, Like fish of the third month, It takes two to be true, Hairpin curves take but one. Yellow, above, Consider this goddess worship, But, please don't discuss it. Like the days say to the month, It might take thirty to be you, But things we cherish, we love. You would take a setting sun, Color it blue, that says enough. Diamond, yellow zircon, Gifts in the twelfth month, Yellow above.
Gord
2024-08-04 09:27 pm
Like the sun heats sand, Marrow, lemon, butter. Yellow begets yellow. You can get by, off nomenclatures, You can get off of your oral favours, High horse and compare your god. Yellow teeth, shallow gums, fallow claws, Yellow is the sun that follows you home, Yellow is Chicago, Toronto and New York. Kill fellow flowers to see if he loves you, A selfish color that swallows you whole. Reach the threshold for silence, clap. It takes not much for violence to start. Although, you know that. So, like the sun meets the sand, Grassland or temperant meadow. Yellow begets yellow, Green, brown and red. You can get by, off those things you said, Oral favours or fine works of art you posess. I see the yellow for what it is.
Gord
2023-10-30 05:49 am
Stares across the sheet of ice... Ningen, it lives! My fear subsides, Human eyes, inhuman smile, alive... it's alive! A light, like a flight, is a trial... Neat circles and straight lines! Figures, like a flight, need a pilot, Skies above have no time or pride. A night, like an iron spike, island, Eye's iris, thick thighs or curtness, Always keep a place and purpose. Unlike the Ningen, which flies... Just hopes to last another lifetime, Like longing stares into a glass of rye, Fish in the ocean or the turning tide. What falls from the sky? What god divines? What god provides? What father decided? Despite what he tries, like a Ningen child, Like looks across tables at what he despised. Like a fucking guy who likes to get fucking high, Although he decides, he decides, he decides... His mind often trailed nonsense, then he cried, Like a little baby, Ningen child that he hated inside.
Gord
2023-10-04 04:58 am
They say, love is fair, But then, what for free? Birds and bees, they explain, Saying mostly ends, Giving little means. A friend, dear, a branch, tree. When they speak they talk of weight, Everything they feel. Then they say, live laissez-faire, Paint the walls of red and greens, They hope you speak their language. Incentives and dreams, hopes of things. But what divides boxes and squares, Fishes and streams, them and me? Is it a line or the right to be? Speak freely, breathe freely, Easy, people say it should be, From a mouth that releases, Full of pleased flesh and teeth. But if they had one wish left, It would be for me to never be. Well, that's sweet. But I know what that means, Go ahead, feel your feelings. Just know, there is no you and me.
Gord
2023-05-31 09:02 am
Compare deceased, compare diseases, Civil registry, never ending dreams. Quiet, discontented tree: Questions vex me silent, Why do we drink of selfish need? Why do we eat to reddish green? Why do they scream your scaring me, While I achieve new levels of self deceit? It responds, about roots and leaves, Tools and people, fools and fees. It's beyond me to understand. Again indeed. Only man writes with a pen, Ire infinite, to the final syllable. A point most misunderstand: Life is not miracles, appearances, Science fiction or analyzing images, It's mostly the wheres and whens, Indeeds said again, friends you miss. Like all the pyramids get built, You'll find they went brick by brick. Like kids, chimes in the wind, Ideally they play without worry, Not re-examine life endlessly, Like a firing squad that never hits. Like a chime without another, It takes only one to be lonely, Two people to live. Hair recedes, favour leaves, Ferris wheels and screams, Once again, the tree speaks, This time about seasons, Blues and greens, Views and seeds, You open your own mouth, freely, Someone else's dreams. Again indeed. A mirror responds vaguely, Instead of self reflection sees, Things that terrify, Even when they close their eyes and they sleep. One could compare their life to a sheep, Sheppard, or favoured elite. What one eats someone decides, Where one sleeps someone else decides, Who one sees is limited, they cry. But they compare to a bar too high. Then with their time, belies, nevers, freezes. Feelings of timidness, cheapness, lies, Triangles you hope to avoid thinking, Inevitably though you need drink. You need some chips, think about it. You need a horse to ride to the store, Because you're lazy as shit. So I guess just hope for the best, But also go for it. Again, Indeed.
Gord
2023-01-11 06:09 pm
A rabbit runs free, in the past, Toward nothing it finds meaning. Fish of streams, pivot teeth, Laughter, tongue chatter, sea. By the brine they find peace, And man, king of beasts. Man forms groups, Parts in two, like lips, The bartender and you. Glass tightly in a grasp, Like a woman's clasp, Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Like man, cash advanced, Wiggle dance, calls, Calls, nobody calls back. That man can run like a rabbit, Dance like a rabbit, Hears like a rabbit, Fears the language of diagrams, Candles and passwords. He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps, Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger. He tries to understand, too foolish in banter, Expanding his mind with standards that matter, His reaction barely examined, rather managed, Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins, What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing, Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.
Lynn
2023-01-07 08:58 pm
Octopus language— a liquid whisper to fish. You would never know. Artificial dream made for a lonely machine. Logical blunder. These glimpses of you, neither invention nor collapse would be more lonely. Condense your rival knight into red and a warning under your shoes. Plasma forms a line. Boundary between light and liquid given up. Turquoise milk mixing into my porridge. Daily occurrence.
Gord
2022-06-28 03:36 pm
If a caperberry were a fish, Would it still be in your dish, What food do you eschew, fool? Escargot, bear, fruit and goose? Verily, ask yourself this: Do you know all, what is good? Like bitter roots, Like butter runs, Desire, let me dissolve into the slime, Like a newborn child who never sees the sun.
Gord
2021-09-16 08:48 am
Truffle, my gems are gone. All bets are off. Swan, water, ruffles, Trouble underwater, The fish will balk: Death march talk becomes bubbles, They beg off, shot in the stomach, Test nothing, swim to the bottom. Lord, I spoke to God. Soft, I sodded off. Man, laughter, shuffle, Trouble in the park, People just forgotten: Talking until nonsense, Their tussles long, Of consequence and knowledge, Then replaced by logs.
Gord
2021-07-01 03:45 am
Should one be horrified of nothing? Hook, shore, line, cheeks blushing, Sorry I lack a lively career, Goodbye, deary; My life is lovely. They say no rush, Speak nothing of time and boxes; Wishing they were ski jumping, Even if it begets evil things. One hundred years fishing. Whether or not I am punished, God, brother, life, iron will, I watched the flowers flourish. Like drumsticks desire a skin, Find, then are tossed aside: Tomorrow is unprovided, Yet I will.
Gord
2020-09-01 04:48 am
A little boating, hidden motives, Net cast far and wide, rod and line, Bits of fishing where the hook is life, We are the bait and our path decided. A single holding, hot and high, One's Lifetime amidst the roses, A river flowing, ascots and wine, Single toll trip last night, no guilt. No guild and no scrill. No landmarks or sites. Gifts of civil clothing, Met with concerning eyes, In the yards at night, Burning, the whole thing. The inner coding of my heart of little noting, A bit of doting, conflicts of the coal bin, Am I composing, or composting with silicosis, Wasting away my time with simple nothings, Served of cold beer unnoticed with business going.
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