Gord

2026-09-30 02:39 am

Irony being lost, 
Like a child talking.
Cronos, to gods, 
Phobos, to mars, 
Either way, 
Inside, we lose who we are. 

Women in bands,
Drumming of hands,
When did the doldrum begin?
By the future, to the past, 
Like a life in idle hands.

Gord

2026-08-26 03:58 pm

Vast, like oceans, 
Endless, like addictions to opiates.

Nobody cares where you're going,
Past, child soldier,
Nobody cares where you're going,
Feather across the face,
Then under the eyes.

The night is dark,
Sun fills the sky.

Gord

2026-06-18 05:35 pm

Atop the spire, wizards, white,
What is obvious, like this type of writing, 
or the ways it affected our minds.

Liberty spikes,
Into the eye and past the socket:
Images of fucking, and violence,
Consumed with many libations. 
Like an infection, it stays inside...

You would rather fight about race, and riot,
Like liberty spikes upon the statues high...
Why wouldn't you say the opposite?
That upon the point your virtues die,
That you would rather sit at home and watch it,
Than go out and stop those pedophiles.

Gord

2026-02-03 08:08 pm

Berries, on a plate,
Berries, stay in place,
Barrie, by the bay,
Very much the same,
Painted by numbers,
Same as yesterday.

Terry Towel upon the face,
Cucumbers, and potatoes,
Over white and yellow paste.

In the street, expensive things,
And nodding off on heroin,
Near a tesla by the beach.

Gord

2024-11-19 10:04 pm

A look at the steps, 
I look past the flesh, 
Yes, says the books.
No, when I look at your texts.
If one pulls a rope far enough, can they pull past the end?

When you look at yourself?
Do you see past the hair?
Dogs are like wolves,
More inbred and inept,
Live in distant woods,
Beside the caves, bears.

When you look in the mirror,
Do you see yourself?
I took glimpses and saw red.

Gord

2024-09-20 09:01 pm

Have dreams,
That's how you achieve them,
Not bat ears and canned heat.

Billy Bragg says 'freedom is' ,
But whiskey is softer on ears,
Randy Blythe pushes people,
Carried off as he prescribes.

Chlorine, yonder, sapphire dyes,
In your heart you can see their eyes,
You never fully extinguish a life. 

Murderer, she says, most immodest,
Mostly chlorine water in response,
Yonder, the noble's calling,
It turned her to stone on the inside.
To me, like sapphire and diamonds.

To her, being pushed from a stage,
Down past concrete, into a grave. 
Into the maze, blue, into the grey. 
Now you are mine forever.

Gord

2024-08-20 05:38 am

Hair falls, past shoulder,
Down halls into the hedge moss.
Rapunzel, was it tulips you wanted? 

Yellow, and the part lips?
Yellow, pears and olives, 
Yellow, stinking cartlidge.
Snow yellow upon a sill at home.
Allegro forms enforced,
Yellow, fitted sundress.

Rapunzel, was it tulips you wanted?
Is that why your closet, is a garden?

Yellow, fear of darkness,
Yellow, pears and olives,
Yellow, and their offspring,
Though yellow, sit at home,
Concerto forms enforced,
Yellow, freedom destroyed.

Yellow, what was it again you wanted?
A garden? Why not hide in the closet?
Yellow, barrelled shotguns.

Gord

2024-08-02 12:12 am

Pastel crayon, divine me.
Quite a lot of yellow fears...
I see.

I asked where are they? 
Inside me? Behind?
Corn, cream or citrine?
Honey, they see white...

Gleaming, unsheathed knife,
Streelights, divine me.
What is fear like?
White with yellow?

I think I could but part ways,
Let the meat meet the knife,
See yellow inside their face,
Toenails and eyes.

Again, define me,
Against this chaos I fight.

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

2023-01-05 06:49 am

Sickle swing into the grass, 
Thinking of pictures, gifts,
Hoping they still persist,
Hopes for more than past.
Head in the clouds, riddles,
Under his cap, a fickle thing.

Sickle swing the earth and drag,
He touches her breasts and legs,
Permitting his heart fleeting
To consider something risqué.

AI poetry

2022-12-19 04:47 am

There are chunks in that soup, and cubes,
Mashed potatoes in there somewhere too.
All around me, the café's chatter:
The onion has a story to tell
And the broth, of course, is not merely gone,
It has been completely transformed.
In the shadow of the dark glass,
I see my friend's eyes smile at me.
 My sister has written this poem
 As a way to explain something
 She cannot easily say aloud.
 After the last stanza,
 She writes the line "We never lose our past selves."

This poem is an Articial Intelligence re-interpretation of "Flesh, Pt 1" by Gordon Haggerty.

Lynn

2022-10-13 01:36 pm

It was cold & the sky was too red as the sunset came too early - my brain was spinning with those letters & numbers & they were falling out of my ears. I looked at the asphalt and I saw my past and future yawning out - both in the same direction on the one-way road but my ears were too cold to listen, to learn. It was too austere in the building & too frigid outside & too glacial in the car picking its way home through the ice and old snow. It was too much too few & not enough of anything at all. & it swarmed. Threes with wings and velocities out with compound eyes buzz & sting & leave me paralyzed, there on the curb.

mtspoet

2021-07-11 10:52 am

The time has come to pass.
The hours sound the chime.
How do you write such pleasing words
that our time has come to rhyme?

The smiles that show your heart.
The eyes that calm the sea.
How do you find the time to love
all of the things that rhyme with me?

And just like me your bird is free
to spread your wings and learn to fly.
What is the cause that makes you flee
each time that life comes passing by?

We are just a plan that life is making.
The first romance that’s ours to share.
The time has come to rhyme what matters,
within the heart that bleeds despair.

Come to me now and follow my dreams
that uncover the pieces born of the past.
The time has come near to make a new change,
and untether the slave you have held in your grasp.

With each moment I write I am thinking of you.
And every word that I rhyme you are near.
It is my hope to rekindle a time we once knew,
before the heart of true love disappears.

Michael 7/10/2021

Gord

2021-04-16 04:35 am

Last living lemming,
No house to live in,
No Chandeliers;
Next exhibit, Next exhibition, 
Spoke of past tense in English,
Fluent in other languages;

An Eccentric Mystic, 
Poetic Lyrics,
and their beginnings;
One carves caverns,
Of all manner of rock,
What matters of master?
The afterthought. 

KilltheDistance

2021-03-02 05:40 pm

Often at times, I find myself at war with my own mind,
Unable to accept that that I'm unable to accept that I am but a speck of dust,
Wandering aimlessly,
Crashing into everything that I'd eventually grow to love,
Then wandering off in search of someone who would eventually break my heart into a million tiny pieces until I'd convince myself to just give up,
But our species,
For better or for worse have an unwavering ability to persevere,
So I tuck myself beneath this dirt seeking only solace from that which left me questioning everything,
Until one day I push past the debris and rubble, a stock with a shadow,
And with each and every passing day,
I feel the life and love growing and shaping me into a stronger version of the person I abandoned in the grave I call these sheets just the day prior,
For no pain will silence me,
No discomfort will ever extinguish that which sets my heart on fire.

My3Verz

2021-02-25 01:26 pm

Once I Was 
Was I Once 
Whom I Am 
Am I Whom 
Whom I Was
Once I Was

Gord

2020-10-21 02:05 pm

To claw and claw,
Writing of natural law,
Barracks and arches,
Scientific approaches;
To be driven ashore,
Hearing of chorus,
Fairs and archfiends.

Only death can stop me,
Friends and colleagues;
Stems, large leaves,
Cigarettes, coffee,
Footsteps and then leaps;
See my craft on screen,
See their past as I see.
Consequence on my freedom,
I feel men are not sheep.

Gord

2020-10-20 04:08 pm

Is my life but a minor arc?
Mirror dark, a nine of hearts,
Why walk into the distant fog,
Past miles of silver boxes,
Simple props with silver foxes,
Waiting for their turn to balk.

I could write ironic of a pen who talks,
Night-time bombings, a man who moved on,
Wildlife watching.
'Will I be fed to dogs'
The pen responds:
'Terrified by conflict you write a law,
But will the dogs obey? I think not.'