Gord
2018-09-19 06:50 am
As poet, aspire, assume desire, I wrote for poets, declining, Prose for poetry, I grew designer. More spoke, iron, strewn aside, Cycle heroic for biking true, Though as porch, her mire I knew. To sit in snow, still forever, cold, Gladly to mix into a sill window home. Lover's letter, one pens from notes, To end on soles, or in bags of herion, And never spoken, lovely, but phoned in, In drunken speech, early in the morning. As men, we aspire, and assume desires, I wrote for Odin, always refining, Notes for nobody, I grew aside, Man of the world, I knew her ire.
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Gord
2018-09-05 06:07 am
They write light of my writing, Erudite Facebook, liars' rights, Poetically I am but humble, Penning comedies of tribe. Unlike, Unlike, Unlike, Unlike my peers, I replied. Despite fears and sighs, My stride upright, austere. Alas, long grass, an axe, Tomorrow fills, fellow actors, Craft jazzy, played by amateurs, Demanding average. Eyes glassy and skills assay, Alas, follow mass, a bass, Screaming of typeface, in your face.
The Sophist
2018-08-23 11:54 am
This morning's protocols Beginning pondering What to do with people on the web. Thus with a deep resolve Maintaining promising Again untrue We will meet again This time she has evolved Now loving squandering Dreams anew Then dreaming to forget Sometimes I can recall Accepting sombering Time wasted In following a trend This time he feels involved Now loving squandering Has a few Then lives in the regret You ever feel withdrawal Oncoming vomiting Bid adieu To all of your old friends I can't say I'm appalled Forgetting honoring Lives wasted Unfollow them in death
Gord
2018-08-21 11:26 am
Friends spoken to be millionaires paid, Mind hopeful, experience bar full, I'm hoping to get a millionaires pay, Friends along with, interiors vague. Though rhymes alone do not denote caste, They are like paste, or a paper, Clinging to the things we wish to frame. Like metal rods with a magnet lace, I walk back to my original place. Pens broken and arms folded in front, Mind hopelessly lost of useless knots. Life like a lark, but come too soon, So hopelessly lost, inside of dark, Heart fought and hard fought, And eventually the daybreak comes.
Hazey
2018-08-14 03:50 am
The thing that hurts the most. You calmed my storms. You helped make sense of the chaos. You plucked me from brokenness. Helped me find strength. I don't know what it was. But just looking in your eyes. Filled my soul with peace. I miss it. I miss the quiet. The calm. I miss us. I'm starting to feel broken again. Empty inside. Trying my best. Not to let anyone see. But there are days. Where control escapes me. Do you think of me? As often as I think of you? Do you remember my name? What it once meant to you? I look back on that day. March 10th. Where I lost you. Where every image I had of you. Just shattered. You were no longer a refuge. You became a source of pain. You still are to this day. I blame myself for it. For my losing you. It's been three months. Realizing it's true. I don't cry as much. Though my heart still does ache. Try as I might; I can't bring myself to hate; You. The situation. Us. I want to throw it under the proverbial bus. I can't. Because the sky still reminds me of you. It was our destiny. Our sky. The world was going to be ours. Accept it. It's over now. These dreams just won't come true. I need to accept that what we are. Is through.
young
2018-08-11 04:51 pm
Someday I'll forget you, That day I'll be free from my thoughts, That day I'll accept that I don't have no one, That day I'll be happy being alone, It won't depress me. One day I found someone, Though I won't hope that it will happen, We never know what happen next, I just need myself ready for it. But for now, I wish you were doing well, I love you from the bottom of my heart, Even though you don't care about me, And I don't know if I exist in your life.
The Sophist
2018-07-27 09:32 am
First there is clay No meaning to a name Strangers will pray Friends prey on their loved ones Some things will change Some feelings can last days Some people say Sometimes it's the rainfall Feet upon the asphalt Back making friends Now who gives their own heart? Hatred instead
Karabo R
2018-07-15 03:03 pm
I am not my Faults I am not my Darkness I am not my Fears I am not my Chaos I am not my downfall I am not my Failure I am not my Regrets I am not my Mistakes I am not my Wrongs I am not my storms I am not my Difficult I am not my Sins I am not my Demons I am definitely not my Past but I am "ME" and that's all I am,all I have,all is,all that will..."Me" #Poetic Genetics _Karabo R
Mata
2018-07-15 11:52 am
Go ahead laugh,smirk do or say what you are going to do..i wont and cant stop you..its ok and except that im the fool..you have proved yourself out as the klown..as you thought you were cool,walking around claiming to be down..at the time you knew you bad me fooled,i already had the clue;you never or knew how to be true..but its all good cuz who am i to judge?iam able to at least except tbat i chose to be the fool..and to sit back in the crowd n enjoy the show;rather than wanting to be the ringleader and run the show..while you were in the streets claiming to be down and believing to be on the grind;im the"REAL WORLD" of reality you were doin what a ring leader does...marching around advertizing"the circus is in town"..but its ok in your own unrealistic world to believe in what you see and who you claim to be..so im willing to settle with compromise instead of regret..at least have a lil respect to turn our backs to each other and walk away and live in our own realistic world.. MATILDA MADRID
the1poetess
2018-07-13 01:47 am
only you, my rose more beautiful everyday it will not wither
Gord
2018-04-24 03:17 pm
Poster of an omen, toking, Dreaming by a plastic ocean, Most fast forward, hopeful; King of post, tasks chosen, Still lives Midas, hands golden. Lapland where they dig holes, Smoke weed and dance poles, Kings of the foal, antsy, cold. The older they grow, though, He loses his power, cowers, Curses feeling, eats pantry. Banishes his people of necessity, Carelessly manages feeble himself, Paddles the plastic ocean, relieved; Departs common and flowers nothing.
Gord
2018-04-04 05:14 pm
Poster of an omen, toking, Dreaming by a plastic ocean, That most fast forward, hopeful; King of post, tasks chosen, Still lives Midas, hands golden. Lapland where they dig holes, Smoke weed and dance poles, Kings of the foal, antsy, cold. The older they grow, though, He loses his power, cowers, Curses feeling and eats. Banishes his people of necessity, Carelessly manages feeble himself, Paddles the plastic ocean, relieved; Departs common and flowers nothing.
Gord
2018-04-04 04:02 pm
Style lapland, cola, A black knight broken, All they dig is holes, No pause. I'm tsarnov of the rhyme, I'm Midas of the pot, With time running out, And Race not lost.
The Sophist
2018-03-26 08:06 pm
Sheep are brainwashed fools Blind to truth within the truth Put jade coloured glasses on Undistort the view Saw it in your neighbourhood? Call in to the news Heard your neighbours arguing? Call in for the troops Acting as we're wise and old Ladies on the stoop Nag and nag and nag some more Until all is good Sheep are awful neighbours Imagine if you would To baa and baa and then Be still misunderstood
Verbalised
2018-03-17 05:19 pm
I awake Still tired Drained by hollow ambition Of late I'm uninspired I seek transition Longing to create To be great But instead I wait for tomorrow But it never comes So I follow tradition With a bitter admiration I take comfort sharing Giving, caring For those who just take To let them feel great I carry this weight In my thoughts And my dreams Until I awake
Gord
2018-02-28 12:36 pm
Lyric, I write divine, Chorus determinism. Mind fine but life grand, Guitar a work of vine, For too few seconds, Then bent to sand. Humorous religion, Reception mad alive, Forewards and artistry, A life pious. Mine. Flounder only eaten, Soul aptly designed. Father, I write of lions, But only of your will, Type defined, candid.
Gord
2018-01-31 06:56 am
Letters written of nonsense, Inner conflicts, profits, Constantine of outfits, Proud of their holes. Opposite, of continents, Sinkholes, swallowing, Mere weathering problems, All they do is disclose. Imagine a world insolvent, Overpopulated and cold, Where fistfuls of dollars, Are better off. Plastic like the ocean, Poetic hopeful, Scotland. Politically motivated, Heart emplaced. However honest, lies of fate, One defends an idea flagrant, Upon a hill of nothing sacred, Fairness being the continent. Unless one wishes a life content, In a country of many ferrets.
Gord
2018-01-16 08:10 am
Why, are my expectations so high? Despite my, I rhymes flexible, Lexicon admissible, less factual, Threat level maximum. Stratagem aspirant, Still I mitigate strata apparent, Deference veteran, get educated, Swine.
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