Gord
2026-09-17 05:23 pm
Of hope and trust, Love more than love, One more person, Then flow of blood. Motion, to matter, As forest are to rooted groundness, People feel hysteria and madness, Children, to laughter. As chorus is to cheers and chatter, Love, from you, Is everlasting.
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Gord
2026-08-03 07:29 pm
Why is it, that time created distance, And why from persistence, this time, Came great suffering, and pestilence. Given tongue, and often structure, In return: local, but of foreign work, Until laughter, then giving up. Why is it, that you have so much? And share little with anyone else. Why is it, that you hate so much? And have love for only yourself... Given love, and given supper, And little of anything else. Envy itself, has deadly effect, And little of anything else.
Gord
2026-06-22 09:34 pm
Table between bonds, Prayer shawl across the arms, I think you've nodded off... So upstairs and criss-cross, Stress balls, stretch marks, Leading to ex marks. I wish things weren't the way they are, You and I could finish what we started, But everything is decided by economics, Including the birth of a daughter, And the laughter that comes along with it. Fables between health bars, Self, like her chess clock, Untouched between punches. I wish things weren't the way they are, You and I had finished what we started, Two people who never fell apart, Including the birth of a daughter, And the laughter that comes along with it.
Gord
2026-05-25 09:20 pm
Macho dancer, nacho boy, Follower, borrowed language, Patterned, upon another land. They call you boy, not a man. Hollow laughter from the distance, Borrowed valor, from deep sadness. Thirty seven candles later you visit, Sorrow, passion, anger, business, All over a taco salad? I thought you had charisma? They say your life, not your plan... Also talent, not what you had. Abscence, between smashing. Not pathetic and sad, Crippled by lattice fences, Under another mask. Actually? They call me often, I'm in demand. Another sunset and other bands, People are as carbon is to plants, Commerce is to banks, Son is to a dad.
Gord
2024-05-19 10:33 pm
All the things he wants, the things he loves, Of all things, he flaunts, to fools in the bar. He feels his playthings belong at home in a box. Amongst drawn straws, he stands like the water, And so does his daughter, and her daughter, They will never know a child without a scar, Who will never see an adult full of laughter. The sweet smell, is all the gardenia in the yard, Despie his greed, they keep growing tall. Despite what he sees, and is appalled by, Between the mirror and the wall, Is Athena and Cordelia, and appearances. She is nonheterogeneous, considerate, So, like lavender she stays with the wall. But really, these are just things he thinks, Knowing little, choosing again, rolls dice, He lost. And she takes every piece of his flesh from the bone with a knife, like god.
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.
Gord
2022-02-04 04:03 am
A cypher for poets and authors: Simple science, titled novel, A game, decoded by tyrants, After speaking, what is laughter? A bird sings to his father: After flying, what is higher? Looks to the sky for answers.
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.
Mary Steffen
2020-10-13 06:25 am
As I see World's fire No end soon Together We are strong Fight fire Arise now Golden light Great beyond World of hope Happiness Full of love Laughter here Forever
Gord
2020-09-23 08:19 am
Single planet of written language, Little matters of bigger battles: Mirror dragons, bitter captains, Speaking lingua franca to a pier. 'They see not what is near' Between fits of passion, screams, Film seen backward, guarantees, Hears nothing but laughter.
Innasense
2020-09-20 08:33 am
Third time was the charm A tormented soul bled out Life worth loving, lost Lonely surrounded,/ A house filled with laughter, but/ Today I feel blue Under darkest shroud/ These green eyes find no sunshine/ Not today at least Force another breath This impenetrable funk And me stuck in it Static in my head/ A sound no one else can hear/ And I can’t escape It’s a feeling blue For no good goddamn reason Sucky kind of day Disconnected from all Desperation rules my head The world seems too small
Gord
2018-10-03 12:14 pm
Tribe, should I fight? Sunder wood, my life took, Can I have another? While wife cooks, Thunder looms. White, she relies on tools, Not the lies in schoolbooks, Taught too to sophist fools. Identity, laughter, a memory looks, I would be a king if I were a rook, Or switch places, if I were a crook, Knew rules well, or sting of the hook.
Gord
2017-12-27 10:00 am
Amateur poet, ultimate, Heroic, stoic, slowest, Everything rhymed about, Hopeful of inchoate. Chum of the lake, think, Who is the wake for? Dead men living pale, or those living, Mouth agape, ailing, Flailing their limbs, Scene akimbo, Fare unanswered, Meter fake. So they take what is mine, Question pondered, What is life plastered? Humanity mastered, Time honored, or is it a last laugh, before dying afterward? Poets lie yet find alms, Measured footsteps bald, Words lifelessly clever, Heart hard to hold palm; Old arms to old arms, Adages stolen loved upon; Bard holy, arch golden, To carve lonely, Barns beholden, Nothing nobel. Par normally, like poultry, To starve colts. Ark art, Swan gone, Dark garb, lark fawned, Opposite of his mind, He finds laughter, Chapter after chatter, Chancellor gone; He defines pattern, An afterthought.
Gord
2017-09-20 04:07 pm
So sits a homely giant, Face sagged into manic, Stone eyelids and mask, Seeing the world as past, He undoes his passing; Leaving literal caves, Only breaching a cage, Mitigating his laugh, He upstages his own fate, Teaching pupils who stay afraid, Egg on his dress, Stag of the forest, Unwashed, unclean. Walls silver and platinum, A giant horse still gaits, Walks circles then defecates, Sleeping soundly until dawn; Enemies however struck down, Their laughter an afterthought, Justly he can run far, fast, Never figuring in absence, Filling him with maxims silly, Father pays the bills, He lives simply. Simply living a masquerade, To hide a face so pimply.
Gord
2017-03-08 12:00 am
Only tragedy of the pen, Everything self penned, Self authored. Cherishing the gift of god, but with silent laughter. Floating dynasty upon the water, Field my dreams, take my island, Let me spend my days a wander, Looking for your prodigal child, With no time for spectacular novels, Cobblestone violence or love chided. Machiavellian influenced religion, Post irony, Post music, Long, long, into the future. Where no human exists, Only Nature.
Gord
2015-01-30 12:00 am
Voice 2: If I tax not the husband, I laugh not upon the sun. I task not the daughter. I ask not of nonsense, but honor. To ask men of skill-set stoic, Who is the one to dance prophetic? They say skill-wise I circle cone, Shall I play so remarkably alone? When shall I finally wax poetic? Voice 3: Do not fret in worry, I fight a fool, truly. If we fight horseback steel, His men will have no drink, All ship that be shall sink, If they think upon the sea, I foresee not a shot upon me. I foresee not a shot upon my men. However, I foresee dead men of opposing color. A sea of red for a coward humble. Two dawns we march upon him, Squalid condition disregarded. An offer of an ultimatum: Convoluted death or instant slaughter.
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