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Gord

2024-09-10 10:32 pm
Olive oil, Turquoise,
Handsome boys,
White lattice joints.

I've heard art and noise,
Made economic choices. 
I've heard Pink Floyd,
Still, within me tar boils.

I need another spawn point,
Another black void,
Olive oil, Turquoise.

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Gord

2024-08-27 04:25 am
I'm sorry, I fell asleep, 
Black, eyes see, I feel... 
Yellow, what can ever be?
Like a child, I dream... of,
Yellow, saffron, cream,
White outside yellow. 

Like an egg, given life,
Tell us, what should it be?
Just like rust on the beach,
Yellow, contained in white?
I'm sorry, I fell asleep...

What of the darkness?
You still sleep at night,
Despite what you speak,
Yellow, what is it you see?

I'm sorry, I fell asleep.
I cannot be there, I feel...
Yolk: mustard, garlic,
Like darkness inside me,
White on the outside,
Bizarre shades, and yellow.

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Gord

2024-08-20 07:34 am
I see the blue,
I'm falling again.

She talks into microphones,
Pulls strings into her skin,
What do they think, at home?
While she pursues what she is.

Death, where have you been?
Can you still see the yellow?

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Gord

2024-08-09 08:57 am
Desert sun, august morning,
Sky, a butterscotch orange.

Amongst all things, concerns:
For paintings are ownership...
Hopefully drawings disappear,
Wrap your body in animal skin.

Put a brush to your wrist,
Go ahead, spill,
Color all over...
Hopefully canvas appears.

Yellow, what say of the sea?
Hardcore, double crossing, frog, 
Croaking of dark forces and fear.
An unarmed soldier, war over,
Still fighting with the hayseeds.

Oh,
Is this why blue pervades me?

All things amongst me here,
Sidewalks get ownership,
You pay, then worship on them.
All language, being borrowed,
Gives power to some lawyer.

Oh,
Is this why blue pervades me?
Yellow, what have you made me?

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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.

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Gord

2022-12-21 04:00 pm
Knowing few truths, too youthful, choose,
No use for rules, too poor for morals.
Two views, both fools, accuse,
Loose tongues ruin their world.

Must they struggle and fight all their lives?
Into groups, they divided themselves, 
Absolute truths and nonsense,
Both destroyed by their own kind.
Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? 
Is any suffering like their suffering?

They copulate and make offspring,
Die, their children die, their children die,
While they're still alive they mate,
Great minds think alike, again,
And again generations later they fight

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AI poetry

2022-12-07 04:31 am
The wind whispers to my skin,
It's like it speaks with every breath.
As if it has been calling out for my presence,
Waiting to see the face behind this mask.
So far it has shown nothing but disdain,
And I wonder if I have anything left to give.

In darkness I wander,
With nothing but my memories
Falling, falling, falling.
Where once I saw light now lies only gloom,
And I know that it has gone.
For those who wish for rest, I have none
Though I'd give up what I have, for one more.
But it's too much now, I can't move my hands,
I just want to sleep...
(My memory, it fades)
In the dark, with nothing to grasp,
The memories that I hold so dear
Fall away from me like they were never there.
And I feel as though I will fall into madness,
Like the very world is crumbling beneath my feet,
That everything is crashing down,
I fear I cannot stand the weight.
(I'm fading)
I just want to sleep...
(My memory, it fades)
***
I'm afraid I've gone and made a fool out of myself again,
I knew you wouldn't understand my reason,
And now you're not talking to me at all,
You see I didn't mean to let your memory fade,
It's like I was being pulled away by another force,
Something I didn't mean, something I can't control,
I don't even know why I'm still here...
I don't know why I'm still here.
I should leave this place, I know it's wrong,
I shouldn't be here in your mind,
I can't help the way that I am,
I don't know why I'm Super Mundane,
I can't stop feeling so low,
I'm afraid it's already too late.

I didn't mean to let you slip away,
But the thought of losing you just doesn't sit right,
To keep you awake and alive,
I need you here, I'm not alone,
Without you here with me I can't go on,
I don't know why I'm Super Mundane,
I don't know why I'm still here.
I didn't mean to let you slip away,
I just can't shake this feeling,
That something inside of me is broken,
I don't know why I'm Super Mundane,
I don't know why I'm still here.

This poem is an Articial Intelligence re-interpretation of "Super Mundane" by TheSoftSophist

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Gord

2022-11-24 12:02 am
She cried too late, she surmises,
Where the water hits the sky she relates,
Relating further as the distance gains,
Relationships were never her game.

Decisions in haste are still decisions made,
Whether the bars bend makes no difference,
You still lived in a cage.

She is indivisible from a man, 
She decides in a rage,
This divides her, divided in half, her life changes.
Her children are the product of mistakes.

She cried too late, she surmises.
Famine, she decides. 
Pestilence, plague, flames,
Venom from the viper's fang,
Which she places upon the lambs that wail.

Take me away, she whispers to nobody there.
Take me away, she formally dresses, playing,
Addressing her former self, she was taken away,
Far from the pain that she feels everyday

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Gord

2022-09-22 01:01 pm
What is perfect and complete?
Delicacies, meat, cheese, 
The foodie speaks conquest and fantasy,
But a cancer progresses, spreads rapidly.
Tragedies of vanity, then agony,
Then bankruptcy, former life a dream.
Fantasies now of revenge, or mercy,
Meaning, offers of a promise of peace,
I can eat simple meals and still be.
Human being, like a clever machine.

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Gord

2022-06-28 03:36 pm
If a caperberry were a fish,
Would it still be in your dish,
What food do you eschew, fool?
Escargot, bear, fruit and goose?
Verily, ask yourself this:
Do you know all, what is good?
Like bitter roots, Like butter runs,
Desire, let me dissolve into the slime,
Like a newborn child who never sees the sun.

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Lynn

2022-04-14 10:27 pm
to stop what you are doing and beg
in a different way than before
for a chance to change;
to cause a beginning, a genesis

to start anew
in a parallel version of your life
where you have finally shaken off the slumber, opened your eyes
to start a new journey

but can it truly be a blank slate
if the dust from the eraser still chokes the air?

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Gord

2021-11-26 05:13 am
A horn right where the heart is,
A horn is where we started,
Beasts of a Godhead, snort,
What else would they know?

Seven heads, Seven hills, a woman sits,
Fearing what we couldn't fix is still amiss,
On top of the hill, one digests the hits,
The house my father built is sticks.

This calls for a mind with wisdom,
Or A horn right where the heart is.
For economics, For a little longer,
For when they finally got it,
The realization, it was violent.

Then floods, then nothing.

No foundation to stand on,
I must found myself, found my call,
But the houses my father built are gone.

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Gord

2021-10-20 04:23 am
Coastal Landscapes, plum, and dates,
Noble Magnates, all things awake,
Ocean to space, 
Poems to plays,
Stone, earth and clay.
Snow, October to May, 
A local band still plays.

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Soulwolf31

2021-07-27 11:38 pm
As she floated through the air
She looked down on all she loved as if she didnt have a care
Death betrayal and pain
All emotions that drove her insane
Her legacy she wants to instill in all to be better than most
Now she is her own worse ghost
You see she always did the opposite of all she said
To her but not most her most valued  accomplishment  is that she is dead
She was jugde by all as she tried to stand her grounds and be true to the morals she set
As there stare grew bolder and there words direct and hateful she felt death was her only bet
So she closed her eyes took the blade and stabbed herself in the chest
Praying that god knew her heart best
As the blood oozes from her white shirt all she feel is relief 
And now that shes gone she leaves thoses she loved with her beliefs
Everyday she graced this earth with her present she was haunted by her memories that was drowing her in a sea of tear
Her biggest regret is not that she lived but that she lived her life in fear 
As her body was lifed to the ceiling the darkness that once ironically consumesd her was replace with a light
And as she moved closer to the light it became so bright
There was a voice that she had heard many times beore
Telling her this wasn't the end and choose the other door
She heard the message loud and clear and vowed to do right 
And even on her darkest day she remain true to the light 
Because on that faithful day she died she really literary died however was born again
Not to live a life of hell but to do her best and at the end of her road know that when darkness and despair set in  she will always win

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Nicko

2021-07-27 09:52 am
Everything around 
is spinning
My head
can't focus.
My body is tired
and my mind is crying.

But I am still smiling 
because I know 
time will change
and the silence in my heart 
keeping focus
for a better day.

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Igor Goldkind

2021-02-12 12:44 am
LIVING WITH UNCERTAINTY

What if we thought of this uncertainty
as Jews consider our Sabbath—

As a sacred space in time?
Stop traveling.
Stop buying and selling.
Stop working.
Give up trying to make the world better than it is.

Instead, sing. Dance. Pray.
Write songs and recite poetry.
Paint the pictures from your eyes.
Walk amongst the leaves and the stars.
Touch only those to whom you have committed your life.

Sit down.
And when your mind and body have become still,
Reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected in ways that are both terrifying and beautiful.
No one can deny that now.

Do not reach out with your hands.
Reach out with your heart.
Reach out with your words.
Reach out with all the curled tendrils
Of compassion that connect us invisibly,

To where we cannot touch each other.

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Gord

2020-11-19 01:01 am
Bindle stiff of simple things,
Fake brickwork buildings,
Frugal beginning.
Mind filled with bitterness,
Still feeling ideas stone:
Life constatant, slowly.

Hands in gauze and clovers,
One makes a river of oceans,
A farm of forests, dogs of horses.
Yet smashes up against the stone,
Dark and lonely, eyes gloss over.

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Lynn

2020-10-29 11:27 pm
these are the golden years, the golden day, she says
like the sunrise or the sunset? i say
both. or neither. she says 

do you miss it? she says
your youth, i mean.
i know. i miss it. i am still young. it has been torn from my chest and weighs on my hips and i miss it. i say

how was your birthday? she says
better than before, i say. 
before what?
the moment it became my birthday.
were you gifted anything? she says
on which birthday? i say
all of them. or none. she says

do you think we could preserve this moment, cast it in gold or bronze or iron? she says
no. 
who said that?

i pick up the mirror and drag it home. 

ten, nineteen, two thousand and one. 

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