Gord
2026-07-28 01:02 pm
It's not about loneliness, I have partners to boast, It's not about holy text, I have no offer of hope. It's not a state of the world, It's the people, you know? Corresponding with Rome, They are taking us over, I have no offer of hope. And it's not about race or homelessness, It's not about great sorcerers, You see on screen at a show, It's about weakness of soul. It's about what you're willing to do, To offer them hope.
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Gord
2026-07-27 01:51 pm
Fuck me, then hold me tight, Trust, as in the form of twine, Money, in the former tides. Naked, in my clothes of pride, Closed an eyelid, time passes, I feel I'm running out of line, How can i tell you I am dying? Nothing gives me solace, Honey, as in for the flies, Envy, in the form of desire, Already in the poem writer, Nothing leads sorrowful eyes.
Gord
2026-06-28 11:30 am
Spittle, gnash and remorse, Little passion for chords, Online sporadic posts, Of course, dog bites come, And I beg them for more. I did, did I? No, it is opposition, Competition that wishes to destroy, And if it does so be it, I'm willing to play the foil. Distinctions and awards, Suspicion of words, Position as hero: Division on discord. I did, did I? I guess you would know, My life, and palindrome.
Gord
2026-04-02 04:48 pm
Dauntless spirit: fall to sickness, Hard decisions, job descriptions. Starter pistols, starlight pitchers, Starch, upon a talking picture. Despite ego and wanting children, When all accounted, long divisions, Robert Browning, wrong religions, Accomplished townie, unpolished fingers.
Gord
2026-04-01 09:22 pm
What matters most, When paddling boats? Loneliness, A partner to boast. What matters most, When seeing a coast? Hopelessness, Nowhere to go home. Eternity, being alone, Mercury, being exposed, Attorney, being ignored, Even in war, theatrics unfold, Even when seeking reform.
Gord
2025-08-01 06:26 am
Shadow cast across their skin, Romance, Allow me a dance along thin, White lines with darker ends. Value passed through generation, Thank you, and oft veneration, And off to the races, White lines drawn to darker ends. And Why is it, he beats me still? Alas, Answers, White lies to darker ends. Romance, allow me a dance, Along lines, dark wide expanse, Around what lies in my bed, Along legs and under hands. I watch as the white lines dance, Eyes: water, shut. Demands... Then an end to nice guy acts, I'm not the one, but for now, I am.
Gord
2025-07-09 10:11 pm
On canvas, paint, Faint inner lines, One day, help will arrive. Fox to maggots, sages alike, Not passion, lies, One day, help will arrive. Small matters, aside, Lay awake in the night, Doorways open, Like man and a knife. All that matters is survival, Today, protection of life. Black magic, paint, What makes things mine? Fate, or time? I can't say faithfully, Hopefully, one day, help will arrive.
Gord
2025-06-06 07:03 am
A chore upon a list of meetings, My feelings mean nothing more... Relationship falls into rondo form, What does she have the condo for? A floor exists beneath a ceiling, My needs mean nothing though. Relationships, and outercourse, A chore upon her list at home, In the sky on the fifteenth floor, A eye, declines to answer the door, She says, goodbye, cries to a score, Why would I? By the by, she never loved me. By the by, why should I? By the by, by the by. By the by, she never loved me. By the by, why should I? By the by, by the by.
Gord
2024-10-30 11:58 pm
Red coral, white bands, Windmill motions, Arms moving forward, If you get in the way, I'm waiting for you. Healing potions in both my hands. Pink coral, line graph, One day the ocean... For now, whatever passes. Yakub like arrangements, Only I divide you in half, Led Zeppelin she says, Is her favourite band. But she loves Taylor swift and Robert Plant. Red coral, white bands, White flags, white magic. Let go of my hand, she says, She needs a wise man, Not one coveting red. You'll get in the way, I'm moving forward, Text messages sent. White Coral, White mask, While to dress, only black. And all the red is gone, I guess...
Gord
2024-09-26 09:15 pm
Blue, green, In between, To me? It's everything. But they only see through me, Shield to shield, grit teeth, Never can I achieve peace. It never appealed to me, Supposedly. But, little does, Just a few blue themes. So, to routine... For you, more meaning. Cold reading: "horses, leeches". Vernacular dances, In between: Lavender, Lapis, Cerulean. Javelins, catchers, In between: Distance, anger, Foolishness. But, that's not how they saw me. Target practice, fresh meat, Free of lines like double basses, Yet to see it's own selfish strings. Yet, upon a blue sky, I fly and sing.
Gord
2024-09-25 09:27 pm
Blue, pale sky. What did I miss? The sale price? The halfway line? Brick by bloody brick, They desalt mines. Did you just move away, Get killed, then live again, Just to shiver in place, Wither and die? Were you better off hunting diamonds? Forgive my writing, And erotic sins, For which upon this wit I build. Always right, Above, they fly, Always white, Always wine. Blue cranes from blueprints, Selfish, and high.
Gord
2024-09-19 08:15 am
If fights ensue, It's not of me, delights, or truth, So why stand beneath? At least in my mind the blue is me. What of peacocks in the spring? What of cheese in the crumbles? What of resolve and my shivering? Certainly, I can feel these things. It's not beneath me, Like red sees croplands, Like rubber and tarmac. Like green sees the sea: blue. Ironically, foolish for free verse. Traverse the world, but ask me, Just remove lines, write peace. Irish flute, life renews, Fights needs two, Then favour winning, Like red says to greens. I wish inside, though, blue remains. Enticing eyes, confusing wings, Flying, seems a bit childish to me, As does to peacocks in the spring.
Gord
2024-09-10 08:56 pm
Rolling stone, Bragarts, and frauds, Divorce, over blowjobs. The most moss, gathered, Place it in a line, toss it up. Azure and cobalt, I understand what goes on, I assure you, I see it all.
Gord
2024-07-16 01:39 am
Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange, But the yellow never changes in you, Does it? Thorn forest, there grows roses. Though tulips, begonia warn you, The world is full of your kin, Thoroughbred horses, Who rub their backs in shit. You are a squid that inks, then drinks it. I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit, Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing. You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias. So, though two lips beg on, like au jus, You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze. I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools... Whose blue oceans brown in pollution, Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion. You are a fun person, is my conclusion, Maybe red can change to an orange, Blue, though, can never be less blue, You can never really be a better person, Just accept yourself, I love you.
Gord
2023-10-30 05:49 am
Stares across the sheet of ice... Ningen, it lives! My fear subsides, Human eyes, inhuman smile, alive... it's alive! A light, like a flight, is a trial... Neat circles and straight lines! Figures, like a flight, need a pilot, Skies above have no time or pride. A night, like an iron spike, island, Eye's iris, thick thighs or curtness, Always keep a place and purpose. Unlike the Ningen, which flies... Just hopes to last another lifetime, Like longing stares into a glass of rye, Fish in the ocean or the turning tide. What falls from the sky? What god divines? What god provides? What father decided? Despite what he tries, like a Ningen child, Like looks across tables at what he despised. Like a fucking guy who likes to get fucking high, Although he decides, he decides, he decides... His mind often trailed nonsense, then he cried, Like a little baby, Ningen child that he hated inside.
Gord
2023-10-04 04:58 am
They say, love is fair, But then, what for free? Birds and bees, they explain, Saying mostly ends, Giving little means. A friend, dear, a branch, tree. When they speak they talk of weight, Everything they feel. Then they say, live laissez-faire, Paint the walls of red and greens, They hope you speak their language. Incentives and dreams, hopes of things. But what divides boxes and squares, Fishes and streams, them and me? Is it a line or the right to be? Speak freely, breathe freely, Easy, people say it should be, From a mouth that releases, Full of pleased flesh and teeth. But if they had one wish left, It would be for me to never be. Well, that's sweet. But I know what that means, Go ahead, feel your feelings. Just know, there is no you and me.
Gord
2023-09-17 07:37 pm
Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Like gawkers, ponders what they saw... 'Would you describe me, inside of a bar?' 'Must again, you make things be so hard?' 'Wasp, like I bumble about the pollen, Following a humble belief seems wanton, When you believe in things so violent and wrong.' Bird, quickly describes in simple songs, Big cities, things it saw in the puddle, Colors of war, bees that talk. Freedom, it sings, is also simple, One really needs not drift apart. The big screen, another big scene, It was mostly a facade... Balk, talk is talk, feeling in the dark, But most of what a bird said, lived on, Proper relief is upon the soul after all... So they write less of evil on the walls, In the sky, on maps or village carts. Against nothing, see the days beyond... I suppose those concepts are behind us. Was it like this all along? A bird wonders... Is the city like a swallow, or like to swallow, and will he be the next one gone? Cause for alarm, make calls upon, Anything, but you lost the one. You love... Like a dog watching another sun set, More talk, another sun will rise again, Life for this bird is but more dogs. So like a coward, survives the storm, Shivering as they make their calls. Inevitably, to face the power lines alone.
Lynn
2023-01-07 08:58 pm
Octopus language— a liquid whisper to fish. You would never know. Artificial dream made for a lonely machine. Logical blunder. These glimpses of you, neither invention nor collapse would be more lonely. Condense your rival knight into red and a warning under your shoes. Plasma forms a line. Boundary between light and liquid given up. Turquoise milk mixing into my porridge. Daily occurrence.
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