Gord
2026-08-12 03:43 pm
For all my efforts: Still not together. Constant pressure, carnal pleasure, About successes: 'Still... I lost forever.' Like a stock trader thinks of affection, First place thinks of second, Penguins think of grasslands, Dryness, is to wetness. I don't think we belonged together, Like how a bass needs pedals, or your face needed makeup, Crimes, need a witness.
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Gord
2026-07-20 06:56 pm
Advancement forever, Like standing to stomping, Spying to friendship. Beyond process: Beyond measure. Behind me are the days of leisure, Hot temper, involvement of parent, But you, I see are still there. Covet beyond edges, White lattice fences. Void, in contentment, It can destroy forever. You're right about nothing, So spare me a lecture, Our neighbours are different, Mine don't talk in direction, And they ask if I'm still here.
Gord
2024-11-15 07:05 am
Thinking of exposure, orange, Are you coming over? Oh... From emotion to hypnosis, Light comes from the phone. Talking frozen yogurts, awards, Terrifying rollercoasters, poets. Light comes from the phone, Orange how the redness shows, Awe, gathering rosebuds below. When I wrote about you it showed, Both you and I know it, What else do I love? Suppose you had died, What else would I have? Hope you might fly home? Well, I paid for it anyway... Light comes from the phone, Blindness from my brain, Tiredness of fate. Like edamame on a plate, Somehow, I hoped for more, Even if it was more the same
Gord
2024-10-01 12:19 am
Blue, vampire bat, I feel like that at times, Lies about my fangs, Silver metallic, Azul and cyan, Tired, of sky high tricks. I guess that's why I am, Grown men cry, surely, But then grown men die, Weapons about their side. Head held high, my friend, Surely, we will meet again, No shame in dying to a man. Right? Azul and cyan, In sake of blue, give me white. Am I doomed, to be a beast? Who bites? Well, then why alongside them, Question the carmine reds? All I want is life, beyond that, Perhaps azul and cyan.
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
2024-08-22 09:11 pm
Tastes of bitterness, Yellow. Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding colors would shroud it, Keep them in jars in my bedroom. Beyond every turn, gentle dreamers, Be not astounded, my equal, Yellow inspires better people. But who inspires me? Fourth? Weapons, either people or god. How long does this rope reach? Pull my long leash, teach me of art. Pleasure seekers, teach me of bars, Present evils, second reasons to want. Granola and oats, less to the fawn. Helpless creature, apparent reason, Lemon squeezers reached the top. In each hand they grab your heart, Tastes of bitterness, Yellow, Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding yellow, they squeeze every drop, Bottle you up, put yellow in a jar.
Lynn
2024-01-17 09:24 pm
though it has been so long, i have not forgotten you. i have searched for you among the crowded shelves of bookshops, the cobbled displays of libraries, the take-one-leave-one boxes scattered through town. i have dug deep in my jacket pockets for the notes and coins needed to take you home with me. i have cradled you close to me underneath my coat while i am waiting for the 6:58 bus. i have found you in tulip bulbs peeking above the soul for the sun, late august thunderstorms that pelted our new apartment, the january wind that brings ice and chapped hands. you have made sure your spine stands straighter when i roam through each aisle, saturated and dewey with books. you have pushed the dimes and nickels into my grasping fingers so that we may spend our time together that much quicker. you have squeezed me hard as we step off the bus at 7:34. you have flung yourself through the sky and earth to find me in the smallest of stolen moments. you kiss my hands and my head and flush them rosy with emotion. you have not forgotten me either, it seems.
Gord
2023-08-13 08:22 pm
'I just wish, with all the time I have left', As she squeezes her fists, laments, Her eyes see ideas she never said, Sadness bookends her existence. She knows what she is, and lies, She thinks she knows what's best, But she is losing her desire for life. I just wish, like all the cows she loves, She would fight and fawn over me for once. The person she sees staring into the sky, It seems she likes, but she rarely sees herself. Mostly other men, me, and occasionally, marquee lights. She thinks it's for the best, I'm sure. The person she reveals herself to be, As the ocean fares, she holds against, My love can only take so many hits, She says, as she sets the table, For two people, but never herself. She says in the end, it's for the best. What happened to the things she liked? She thinks to herself in a flight, Reminded of a dream, desires, Meets someone else and tries. Time is a god of fire, however, So it takes and destroys her, Inside first, then outside. What she does with her life, It's none of my concern, Fans in the crowd fight amongst themselves, Not with players they revere and beheld. I think I know what's best, but in the end, I knew very little of what I said, Even less of the outcomes she had. So, who am I, to wish?
Lynn
2022-08-19 12:46 am
ceaseless, i wait here in my hall of stone. my continuous, meditative, monotonous vigil only broken by the sound of a camera shutter or the scratch of charcoal over rough paper. my silence never ends, since my marble knees do not know the hour when they will straighten and carry me away, nor my spine knows when to crack and unfurl my body tall, higher than the skylight under which i am displayed, nor my dainty dress knows when to settle itself more comfortably over my shoulders. so here i remain, forever more statue than woman. one evening, out of the blue twilight the night guard saunters in, bold and butch and self-assured (her footfalls give her away) without warning, she leans in close, shining her beam in my placid face, and i cannot blink away the yellow light (and never would, just to glimpse once more upon her lovely face) hastily she whispers in my ear, instantly transforming my marble to rose quartz and slowly then, she kisses me, soft and earnest and fleeting and suddenly i am more woman than statue.
Gord
2021-12-21 04:53 am
In the car, cutting corners, Misnomer, or misfortune; Of emotion, a disclosure All I feel is the moment, Brushing motion and smell of burning horses. Of importance: Kings and clowns, With benefit of doubt, One is better without.
mtspoet
2021-08-06 07:20 am
A treasure full of dreams A future wrapped in gold What our indecisions bring Within each box that life will hold Hidden in the square Amongst the corrugated seams Is more than just thin air And the light from distant beams There are memories we have known Within the box that cannot part Like the flowers that have grown Just to touch a gentle heart Upon these feathers within a box I shall sleep on them tonight And to the ticking of the clock I shall dance the angel’s flight Says the label dressed in red, “Never touch what’s in the box” So many thoughts run through my head Of all the moments we have lost Michael 8/5/2021
miherseed
2021-04-27 11:03 am
the santan dew crawls out of the stalk if you break it apart from the bush suddenly it burns brighter than dust small grand doors tiptoed to kiss their frames held by hinges, but try to reach north alas, their fates are back and forth there’s a somnolence to homes that are not yours holed with metaphors you never explored to tell your throat is for similes or possibly something else i wonder if wells hear wishes or if they are mere echoes of aired fulfillment perhaps that’s why the well water only gets to see the sky even if i bury my fingers beneath the soil, i am no root. even when i draw lines on the sand, i make no shore.
Petar Kostadinov
2020-11-02 10:04 am
“Writers ———————- Have gentle souls Have a heart of a sunshine The one written word they paint From their lives with each brush in their hands The good times The bad times The treasured of times Their words are best told From its beginning to no ending They paint each season They create each reason They form each line As they stand even at the bus line As they wait for their train to arrive As they drive their car they must stop At the parking stop and quickly write Otherwise they will lose their track of Song they want to sing” (c)10/31/2020 by Petar Kostadinov
Innasense
2020-10-10 09:54 pm
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
Innasense
2020-09-17 05:44 pm
I may have recently found a love of haikus...enjoy a heap of them! Such a small creature A fascination in green Life measured in hops Grading seems endless Constantly processing...sigh, Your work is due friends Bike accident, ow! Purple bruise on my kneecap Tiny tragedy Dead creature, a gift! Spare me your adoration Love in kitty form Humanity ruins Each other, our home, all things The one true constant Build each other up A constant stream of kindness Love creating joy Sleep eluding me Again I’m counting critters Heavy eyes please close This day could be good But only if you live it Stay here, keep trying Tiny puzzles these Haikus pieced together and Shared with awesome friends
Gord
2020-09-16 02:35 am
By tribal elders, Despite wire fences, Highest pleasure, By mine forever;
Innasense
2020-09-13 09:17 pm
“Wake Up” Ahh, the unexpected depression of waking up to greet another day This menial mundane monstrosity Shaded in varieties of gray Sloughing through begrudged routines, Caged in by an endless checklist Punctuated only by commas. Collecting “cherished moments” On your camera roll To say the day was a happy one. Hiding behind the infernal screen, A spyglass to a world you don’t even want But hold onto anyway with white-knuckled grip, Afraid that reality won’t measure up To this life stickered with fantasy labels And you wonder when the dreaming stopped, Probably that moment you realized you still hadn’t woken up a superhero, Or that unicorns don’t exist outside of fairy tales When tomorrows bled into yesterdays And you looked back in wide wonder Questioning how you collected so many rings in your trunk And pondering where all the whimsy went Chasing shadows of what was And what could have been, Gazing into the abyss of what-ifs Unnecessary self-induced miseries. A waste of numbered moments. Time that could be spent counting freckles that bridge across tiny noses, And listening to the relentless chatter Of a little heart that has not yet been broken, And who still believes in the maybes. I see you little souls. For you, I awaken.
Gord
2020-06-18 02:23 am
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
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