Gord
2026-09-08 05:21 pm
I love you, There are no other words, Like gold and silver, Shine in the distance, Water finds less resistance. Eyes of blue, There are no other girls, I am in love with you, There are no other words. In awe when you visit, I'm thinking of home, children, And you every minute. There are no other words, So I admire, and listen.
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Gord
2026-02-07 03:00 pm
He persues love, Hapiness and a son. Three to two, two to one. Free to choose, One persues their roots, Freeform blues, cute girls, Until ruin, until dust. But upon the soul a velvet rust, Temples burnt to smell of blood. Umbrella terms, settlements, Lemon curd over skeletons. Free to choose, They choose but one.
The Sophist
2025-11-01 02:58 am
Who's number 1 in all the world Who's get the laughs and includes girls Who's number 1 at sawing bones Who never lets you leave your home Unless you're going to the festivals Who's number 1 at selling oil? Who's number 1 at selling guns? What's the best city for having fun?
Gord
2025-04-08 05:26 am
Easel, muse, what is fate? My eyes no longer meet it, My hands no longer make. Like a glove conceals a ring, Kind words, greater schemes. I must run like we were kids, I love drugs, love the feelings, I love the girl. Sober realism... Stare into the distance, Eventually you see the same, Tomorrow, is a little late
Gord
2025-01-30 03:50 am
Remember that night, when you came out as gay? Well I remember you saying you victimize women, Saying your ex girlfriend's pussy stinks, Knowing we might be a common friend. Not that you care, it's not about yourself, That's why you have domestic violence charges, That's why you have domestic violence charges, That's why you will hang yourself in a closet. Remember, when you talk to me, you talk to an artist, Remember that night, you talked to me hostile? Well I remember that every time I saw you, Saying your ex girlfriend's pussy stinks, Knowing we might have common friends, Knowing this is something I'm going to address, Not that you care, it's not about yourself.
Gord
2024-08-14 07:15 pm
Like Sepia, Despite what I see, Also some yellow. Color the frame retro, Like scene girls, afterward, I think, where do I go? Despite what I feel, Altos bellow. Also her form, Lace, and leaves, Never ending war. Storybooks, Where are you for? Made bedrooms? Despite what I see, Euphoria. Despite the blue and orange, I see yellow. Like the whole world is sepia, And made in her form. Despite what I feel, About capitalization, ownership, I see shadows at home, Because I see by myself, alone, Despite what I feel.
Gord
2024-06-28 06:38 pm
In Her Dreams Everyday she grew more cynical, Forewarned in the way he spoke. 'What makes trees grow? Speaking indignantly? Lazy, form english is what bees know. Maybe there is more, maybe not. Leaves, and lace upon her form, Leers and mistakes on a forum, Leaves and paces about a home. Lady Clare, is this what you wish for? Mais oui, upon meeting, she says, but may we not once she sees him again. She begs, making peace, but, maybe not. What is under the stars, outside of the bar, Yet above us all? In her mind, her. But, actually, God. And he sees her like I see her: Alone by herself, just of her mom. Lo, girl, grate your feet, arms to nothing, Cognizant, you can see what's coming. So, use a word to cut deeper, I mean, Maybe there is more, maybe not... Say please, and release the lions... If a cognate speaks of alm, as always, Bet a fool falls, autumn again, as always, Winter follows. Bees, on their belly, in a playful sense. Wallows about woods and streams. Striped appearance, demeanor, feelings, He exits the scene with grace and dignity. Asking the same, but bees scream, race, As always, it's just the way things be. Swallow a mouth full of eggs, and honey, Forward, fundamentally things are different. Not just you and me, for everyone that sees us. The courts just take up space, mostly useless, And friends never show up to court you, bee, They treat you differently. You are less than me, because you are less than nothing, She says, and places her hands to the sun. Youth burning away at her bloodied stumps, Speaking in fear of a beast that runs, jumps, Eating the bunnies she dreams about...
Lynn
2023-05-12 09:32 pm
Sitting outside the shop on a cloudy May afternoon, my hand scrawls on the back of a receipt a list of the aspects of myself: - the moles in morse code down the side of my face ($4.99) - the scars on my leg in bumpy braille ($12.76) - the skin covering my knuckles, shining where it has split so many times over ($29.97, sale price) - the soul filled with self-loathing, boiling, bubbling over the rim ($10.19) - my spine, doubled over and bent backward ($17.22, CLEARANCE) - the effort I put into eject all but the smallest parts of myself as a collection of trinkets, an amalgamation of dust bunnies ($0.99) I must have picked these up, absentmindedly, through my time in the shop. Where can I put these back? I didn't want them. Why did I pay for them, pulling out my wallet in a daze? I never knew they existed. I must have entered a girl and left a much older woman. How long was I standing underneath the humming lights? I crumple up the scratch paper and toss it in the bin as the sun waves from the overcast.
Gord
2022-11-09 03:21 am
Head full of ideas, webs, spiders. When you see the light fled from, Like paycheques full of diamonds, Like lions, saying their cash is final, Is being right worth all the fighting? Met the right girl, at the wrong time, Never mind huh? Move on in life? Plagues for the day, Pestilence for the nights. You are the lion, You are the tiger, You are the decider, designer, Provider of delightful things, Fragrance of oil and spices, Sweeter than any type of trees.
Lynn
2022-03-23 11:45 am
I smear vaseline in the corners of my mouth with a cotton swab to seal the cracks that are carved there from smiling too wide from laughing too loud from speaking my mind. I smudge the nails on my hands with paint, pearlescent and pink to keep from moving to keep from creating to keep from fully living. I confine myself to an apple and egg whites each day to mold by body into what I see in waiting room magazines into what it was when I was a child into something impossible. how futile, it seems, to meter my joy, to suppress the wind. because, when one tries to obstruct what rightfully will pass, it gains strength, channels down one slim canyon, and blows everyone away.
Knoble Kaller
2021-02-05 02:06 am
Rise oh sun oh immortal flame to wake the soul to play again. To run and dance and jump for joy and warm the hearts of girl and boy. Beam down your rays of healing light confirming natures pure delight and bringing forth more glee than blight no winter yet in this souls sight. May brilliant joy and exaltation be your gift and coronation leading toward the beach of plenty makes one feel like being twenty. Wish upon dream upon starry starry night. Let your spirit take its flight to one you’ll hold extremely tight. Embrace your dream with passion free exposing all intentional glee for daylight breaks and dawn reveals lovers heart… eternally.
Innasense
2020-10-04 11:21 pm
I miss that girl who wore the moon on a chain, The one who found happiness in solitude and rain, Who wasn’t smothered by the endless need-to-dos, But instead made simple moments her muse. I miss the girl with the honest, unforced smile, The one who could always stay for awhile, Who took endless photos of sunsets and trees, And spent time, just being, under canopies of leaves. I miss the girl always seeking out the new, The one whose blue days were ephemeral and few, Who spent her Sundays, childlike, taking trips to playgrounds, Instead of as an adult, pushing expensive mops around. I miss the girl who wore pink bandanas and braids, Whose undercurrent in life wasn’t always “afraid”, Who wasted away hours in make-believe lands, And felt no guilt with book or controller in hand. And I miss car rides with no destination, Enjoying the lilting song of a clock for pure relaxation, Not feeling enslaved by my own procrastinations, Making last minute plans, happy deviations, I miss yesterdays that happened years ago And I miss the me that I used to know
Gord
2020-01-24 07:18 am
She says with her eyes: I am gone, Evil days begone though. Friday I am home, Peace be with you, they say some words; "Does a partridge purr? Does a catalogue write itself?" Words themselves can be like a cone, Until one meanders about the dwelling. Lonely girl, what do I know? Is not the world yours to sell? Would Lucky keep a sword or bow? Would she emblazon her chest, With Lions, giants, family crests, Sayings of young exuberance, No room for the later lessons. Spear and shield, All you need is God's help, Divine wealth, stature, Time and a long winter, Along those lines, I feel you'll get better. No sous vide or fried Kelp.
Gord
2018-11-14 07:13 am
Wisdom, do anything for love, One cannot administer feeling, Smoking trees and tending buds; Ashore a flood, Amore my love, Shores complain not of fumbles, Nor bees of bumbles. Horse contained not by hurdles, Nor flees or humbled. No fleas or bugs, or jungles. A girl, reserved forever, supple, Personal, plain, non functional, Is she a butt joke, or punchline? Regret, or spend time a spindle, Two too many, to twine a stick, Rope simply frayed on four ends. Portend of trouble, Poor tend to nothings, Their lovers forever troubling, Who casts shadow twice a valley, Humble?
Gord
2018-11-09 04:40 pm
Railing, mirth like nail files, Failure at the last mile, paling, Valencia mailing, orange letters: "Hello, my love endearing, Are you not hearing my words, Cello, or Othello reading." Orator deceiving, apportioned more, For boys, they are but fleeting, Foreign peering at another girl. Teenage to be, card or palm reading, Do my feelings mean nothing more? A chore on your list of meetings, Suit, Tie and your railing grasped tightly. I might be a fool for lies and deceit, Ununique like an onion, carrot or leek: "Choose me please, you need to eat. Color me pink or beat me anew, kneed, Until I am bread, so says the meat." Your railing a crutch, always needed, Like carrot bread has disgusting features, You have disingenuous dealings with realism.
Gord
2018-09-18 07:29 am
She won't relent, Heart of paper, stone read. Western hero, composing feelings, Zeal formulaic, deceit ceaseless. Eastern, kind words repentant, Unlikely to spend life waiting, Ferment, offense, to be condemned. Sweetheart, If one only dances, not for scent, Lance just for chests, Language, port for gents. Madame, another supplement, For what drunken mess is other, Than more time misspent? To see the end, would we prevent? Could we? All I see is a girl, a vent, Policy diverse, absurd, dissent.
Tina Marie
2018-02-20 03:12 pm
As I looked into my mirror one day, I could see, that a sad little girl was looking at me. I said to this child where is your smile? Through tears she replied, "Can we talk for a while? Your mommy is dead. They took your daddy away. I don't know how you face your mirror everyday?" Besides the lump in my throat, I also felt, a tear trickled down as my heart begin to melt. Sweet Child you see, it is hard to explain, how people can hurt you and cause you such pain. but if you believe that God sent us Jesus his son, you can face everyday and you won't have to run. So smile little girl there is a whole new world of love and happiness and a brand new start, the moment you ask Jesus to come into your heart. Looking deeper yet, into my mirror I could see, that this sad little girl looked exactly like me.
Gord
2017-07-13 01:16 pm
Past tomorrow I see no lecterns. The horse speaks, lack luster, Words worthless, and everyone taking pictures; Girls wet as many pitchers, Barn doors close windowless; Blissful peace again, Silencing planes overhead, Standing tall as clouds, Power small as a child, Foreign tongue, power bottom, University educated, Now you've got 'em. Maybe whispered tomorrow, Today lives in industry, Claws large as the gut, Staged imagery for one; Paper mimicry of a doll, Feigned apathy of a sun;
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