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

2014-07-22 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

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I am with my peers.
Although you forge careers,
In favor o' honing craft.
It leaves them bereft, of talent.

Dreamers dreaming dreamscapes,
Of dreams they never even had.
When will they part with inaction?
Or finding meaningless meanings?
While meanwhile the bridge burns backward.

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

2014-07-04 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

2014-06-30 12:00 am

I advise,
20 some-odd years of life,
To adhere,
To live for four more years,
And the reason to live for;
Four more years.

Do I love you?
I refuse to answer,
So the answer's no,
I walk home heart-broke,
Coat-less in the cold,
A propos of the wet snow.

Carving names in cave walls with a bone,
I plan a life before me in stone,
Four more years for us all,
And if the fall doth happen,
Four more years for us all,

I rise,
Rags to riches and homeless again,
No fear,
In the four year plan.
I devise,
To never be homeless again,
My reason to live for;
My own device.

If you want to run,
I will take you there,
Somewhere beautiful,
Eclipses everywhere,
Full-on inscrutable,
Just live for four more years.

The Sophist

2014-06-25 12:00 am

I swing about a bauble,
I scream about all belief,
And claim it to be fallible,
I run to where the light doth scramble,
To a place where all the truths are false,
And dreams are able, and soar about my bauble,
Radiant light of torch-lit dragon stables,
I sing in fable, and swing about my bauble,
All the dragons burnt alive by gas,
Spilled off tables knocked and set alight.
The old king has no ace to punish strike,
Now that dragons are not able to end life.
A workforce overthrows the king unable to know why,
A mutiny by accident with baubles as our knives.

The Sophist

2014-06-18 12:00 am

Abeyant for the fall of man,
Obeyant utilitarian,
To be killed by robot tanks,
Brought to life and killed again.

To turn the world into a sun,
Instead I'll long to own the moon,
No muse but she, the only one,
Her darkness tears my skin of gloom.

Bottled pride,
A drunk misuse,
Beauty whore'd out to the masses,
All could be in bliss without,
Fragile multitudes,
No doubt, 
My love is better glass-less.

Gord

2014-06-16 12:00 am

Those with arsenic bedfellows, exposed.
Due to the TV show they gained exposure.
Closure to a chapter of chaos and rapture.
Posturing to a new hope, classically,
In hope that he masters poseur culture²;
How dramatically he captures folk,
Beards sip wine in¹ balcony of their brother.
It's the framework of laughter;
Silently I laugh as they excuse them both³,
Rendering their will less valid, excusing oath;
Adopting a framework of passtimes,
Instead of finding, lying among those guilty,
Chastising the filthy for soiled torn clothing.
Discarding carelessly the heart of an oak,
Instead of seeding they favour blind hope;
Sans man, would the trees still grow?
Forlorn will animals flourish?
The hands of man conceive the future, though,
Often he lacks the means to nourish.
The man will scream of price of grain, though,
Often he just lacks the means for omnipotence.

Footnotes:
1. latin for 'on the'
2. i.e. hipsters
3. unnecessary explanations given

Gord

2014-06-11 12:00 am

I dander,
To her I cling tightly,
In her I find me.
In me she finds her;
So clothesline or a ligature,
Is just a state of mind being.
At least, that's what I'm seeing;

So I pander,
I find the back end of a hand,
Which leaves me more filled with anger.
Yet everyday I manage.

Until I found out the sun is dangled,
So perhaps too, the moon is dangled,
Leaving me in anger.
My love in the clutches of another,
My whole life fandangled;

EQ

2014-06-03 12:00 am

Statement to what. 
State What. 
I am not guilty of the charge of capital murder. 
Steal me and my family's money. 
My truth will always be my truth. 
There is no kin and no friend; 
No fear what you do to me. 
No kin to you undertaker. 
Murderer. 
Go to hell. 
Get my money. 
Give me my rights. 
Give me my rights. 
Give me my rights. 
Give me my life back.

The Sophist

2014-05-29 12:00 am

For you my love, 
A katana and five white chrysanthemums. 
The highest honor in a land of comfort women;
Bukakke warrior yellow cabs.
For you my love,
Crazed stalker and a madman,
Advance radionics will make you love me too.
Or see how I love you,
For you my love,
Peacefulness,
Awareness,
All of this was made and arranged,
For you my love,
Tiffany

The Sophist

2014-05-28 12:00 am

From dying lips was told,
A tale of winters melting wax,
Turning summers cold.
Stranger tales we will betell,
I'm sure,
Stranger sights we will behold.
Forever we will speak the truth,
Except regarding days of yore.

The Sophist

2014-05-20 12:00 am

"Perchance to make music to move them.
Your music is blandly, boringly, gruesome."

"Your attitude's gruesome. Perchance to make music to sooth 
them of their hideous minds lost in loathsome confusion. Let 
me be eaten by dogs if it means not bowing to the flogs cast 
by unjust retribution. Perchance to be cat's paw; to flog 
yarn worlds strewn loose by melodic volution."

"Your mind's in dilution. All these ideals are depraved 
convolutions."

"My mind's in Confucians. I seek absolution while you seek 
out a stage to pimp tone prostitution. Fucking air pollution 
is what it is, no good contribution in the vast 
distribution of data and discs."

"You're best substitution; you just add trills or a long
resolution."

"I swear I do more than just posture and bull shit with 
forms and techniques, curse your persecution!"

"Curse us. Goodbye, writ of execution!"

Gord

2014-05-16 12:00 am

I screw up, just before the exit,
Re-schedule my days upon lighting torches,
Renewing an old love for delightful corpses.
See to it that the girl is pleasur'd.

No golden god summoned will even touch her,
No other lover to serve under,
I sure shit the bed on this one.
Previewing future proves absolute doom.
My wife loves the taste of blood, 
I spend my life providing it to her.

Gord

2014-05-15 12:00 am

So low, I write solos. solo.
No hope, no dope, no jenkem,
To inhale into my lungs alone.
No friends to inhale with.
My redemption will be none.
Album sales will resemble past figures.
One.

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.