Gord

2015-01-16 12:00 am

Seeking refreshment,
Dire wolves present,
Ready to gnaw.
Gnu society is buried along.
String pulled taught,
Ropes around throats,
Strings play onward,
Despite what they're taught.
An uproar of laughter occurs,
Society of horse-eaters,
glue-makers, wearing fresh wigs.
Pigs remaining adorned in powder,
Guns pointed, son anointed, 
Appointed afterward as God,
Society of brow-beaters,
As if word meant nothing either,
Society of Shakespearean clods.

The Paraffin One

2014-10-02 12:00 am

Upon the throne, no one will falter,
No deeper prose, nor dragon exalted.
Asia proceeds onward in laughter,
For the west has loans now defaulted.
Conceding mass fortune to misspent wealth,
Preferring concert above eating well,
Discoursing doctors say priority on health,
Referring to a disease that fell,
Not preventative well being.
Nor representative of the well read,
For mass appeal is just seeing.
The senses infinite within a small thread,
Only known to those rolling with laughter,
Callused so thick they survive the rapture.

The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

Everyone is so depressed,
Though no one likes a downer,
As such casts frowns upon the Frowner,
And thus becoming frowns themselves,
Lusting after laughter,
Mad and frown obsessed,
Coat the world in spite of love or hate,
Diethyl Ether,
If I entertain the hatred one more hour,
I may get a bullet in my chest.
If I entertain my love for higher power,
I may still get a bullet in my chest.
Though no one likes a downer,
I'll admit that I'm depressed,
I wish I could be smart and know it all,
But I'll confess;
I'm not, and I don't.
Thus I walk unto another test,
Often times my thoughts are downers,
This is why I acquiesce.

Gord

2014-08-07 12:00 am

I traverse the dark of the caverns:
All I find is bottoms and laughter.
Palaced me within a circular pattern,
I find no gains,
And no means to make with.
Yet I find no pain,
So is it easier to make wishes?
Than to actually fulfill them?
Is it easier to scale a building?
Or easier to commit this build?
Maybe it's even easier to stand idly by.
Planes fly into buildings, make six billion.

Gord

2014-07-31 12:00 am

My magnum opus produced at my alma mater,
The laughter is too great to justify release after.

Gord

2014-06-24 12:00 am

Founded in response to clamor,
A missive written by cowards.
I found it couldn't be read aloud,
Without the sound of laughter.
I also found it dismissive,
Critical issues are clear.
An attack on my character,
Expound from the rear.
I respond with kisses,
The critical issue is context.
So it appears, they fear progress.
They fear a progression of issues,
So it appears, they clearly want this.

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

The Sophist

2014-03-10 12:00 am

My God that dumb-wrecked bitch;
The meaning of a hoe;
She tries perforce for her forget;
Her thrice exclaiming "no".

Her lips are chapped and rapid;
Face smooth and mar'ble;
Her mind a vapid wasteland;
Of her words unknow'ble.

Her bod' a sun-soaked beach;
By fear of under toe;
She tries perforce for my forget;
But hers I can not, no.

And thus some minutes pass,
And thus some minutes pass thereafter,
Pissing in my pants,
Dying forth in crippling laughter.

Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

A Week Away

A week away
A cottage in the Cotswolds
Solitary single socks
All in a line
On parade

Hands like hooks
Feet that throb
Barms and breezes
In Blackpool

Fortunes found and told
Tramlines
Scarring the seascape
Soaring seagulls
Hawk-like hands
Flaying feet

Seagulls that screech
Mayhem in Mablethorpe
Being Stumped in Boston
As to which way to go
Kiss me quick
Squeeze me slow hats

For edible orifices
Wonka's Willies
Trams travelling
Towards the Tower
And down the Golden Mile
From Fleetwood

North and South Piers
Sandcastles
Big and small
Towards Town
Postcard pictures
Picture postcards

Pencil drawings
By computer
The Mere at Marton
Limousines
And lycra-clad mirth-makers

Mobster's metal machine
Made from a Mini
National Savings & Investments building
Blocking the breeze
And the light
Standing in it's shadow
Comfortable caravans

Laughter from Leighton
Jokes from Jamie
Sparkling grape juice
All the way from Grimsby
Via the M18

Panoramic views 
From the highest motorway
In Britain
Deep dales
High Pennine peaks
In Yorkshire

Rain and sunshine
Traffic build-ups
In Blackburn
Blues in Burnley
Families fighting

Four-pint pitchers
Of foaming ale
Mussels and whelks
Oysters and orange squash
Cockles and crabs

People driving
Dangerously long miles
Without falling faint
Of fatigue
Passion in the Pennines
The castle moat

Golden sands
Tilting telegraph poles
Going up
And coming down
Steep steps
To silver sand

Shorelines stretching
As far as the eye
Can see
Whirling wind turbines
Whitewashed windmills
Scattered over the Northwest frontier

Unfurled flags
Flying furiously
In a westerly wind
Cod and curry sauce
Pen'orth o'scraps
And pots of mushy peas
Wrapped in writing

Mablethorpe Messenger
Blackpool Gazette
Cotswold Courier
Yesterday's news
Today's chip wrappers
Tomorrow's waste.


Dusti Rodes (2006)