The Sophist

2015-07-13 12:00 am

Twilight of the twelve queers;
So twisted and obscured.
We act as though we understand them;
Though with fear.
Twelve steers led by a steer.
In twelve straight abstractions.
A beast walks without ears.
Travelling wayward through swelled sounds,
Unable to hear.
Walking billions upon billions of miles to see;
Infinitude of the spheres.

The Sophist

2014-10-30 12:00 am

Doll Robert in a sailing shirt,
Ever lurks through souls deserted,
Tall akward leaves a trail covered,
Never hurt but he scared the girl.

Gord

2014-10-16 12:00 am

Poets quickly release material albums,
Teachers equate material sophism as equal:
Knowledge concrete, belief in Calvin.
Topped off dressed in a top-hat and sequins;

The Sophist

2014-09-04 12:00 am

Both sides support reform,
God I feel dumb,
Then I go back to watching porn,
That still too is dumb,
Ah, ugh, I'm wracking my poor brain,
Surely nothing can be done,
If something clearly is insane.

Begone to the pits of apathy,
Where men are fighting to succeed,
Be free from binds which binding me,
Lead me blind to blind society.
Truth be told it would be great,
To record sounds and meditate,
Without hoping to get paid,
Ad space isn't free,
We pity ourselves if ads are sent to peace.

We sent our brothers off to war.
Speaking of the fun;
Fighting for a rival hoard.
Dying in the sun;
Pierced by a brother's sword.
Ah, ugh, I'm wracking my poor brain,
Thieves thieved some time for fun,
Our heroes appearing more and more depraved.

To share the same disease,
Tortured through our dreams,
To decay among the trees,
Torment; a short and brutish piece,
Yet all of it is great,
Bleeding essence every day,
Alderson loop of disjunctive melodies,
Existence sings in remedies,
Never will the tempest ease,
Yet underneath there lay a silent tone,
Arranging scattered harmonies.

The Sophist

2014-08-06 12:00 am

See World will fall when we all,
See a rope in a reptile,
Idealize walls in a jail cell,
Bear witness to false accusation of fraud,
See prophets as wrong,
See essences in every object apart,
Bear witness to art manifesting itself,
Square of a ball,
See ourselves as a witness,
Never abroad,
Forever in transit through cosmos with
 thoughts that material objects transcend even
 God.
"But what if I'm God?"
God transcends all, 
You're an ignorant clod,
Appendage at best,
Syllogistically flawed,
Essentially fraught,
Logistically faulty.
God can be everyone without everyone God,
Frogs are all animals (not all animals frogs).

The Sophist

2014-07-30 12:00 am

Yawn,
A boring thought,
Moving on.

Blah,
The time we've fought,
Force mignon,
For nei' were strong.

Plod,
Reason/not,
Such are battles,
Which we ought,
Discard to dogs,
Trained to chew them.

Humdrum,
Through coral caught,
Stone filled satchels,
Path danger fraught,
Mind's a fog,
Not mad at you though,
I'm only mad duly.

Doldrums,
I wish it would stop,
I'm mad at myself,
For letting this rot,
I'm not just licking frogs,
My croak at the moon shows,
I only care truly,
If you care about you.

Pedestrian,
Living life at the top,
Panopticon cell,
And fuck is it hot,
But we sit writing songs,
I croak at the moon slow,
We make a pair fool-ly,
Sympathetic,
Two lives out of tune,
At different ends of the spectrum,
Beauty ensuing.

Apostates to our parents' dreams,
Too old for pride, 
But maybe peace.
We'll love in long strides,
A boring thought,
Despite defeat,
We still move on,
Lows bolstering highs,
Finding new regimes.

The Sophist

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I hear a voice,
A voice that is screaming,
Words with no meaning,
From lips I can't lean to,
If I try.

By chance or by choice,
By passion or comfort,
One or one hundred,
Sounds you can run through,
In your mind.

If you give it a try,
You can accidentally bike out onto the road,
Get hit by a car,
You can get drunk and die,
Body falls on a button,
Makes the world explode,
It isn't that hard.
If you're not young or retarded.

Theseisms destroy,
All classical meaning,
Those labels you're dreaming,
I'm going to eschew them,
If you try.

Sit back and rejoice,
I'm not trying to free you,
Nor'm I trying feed you my truth,
View beauty in tandem,
Anytime.

Life isn't a crime,
Keep your mind on a lovely abode,
Eyes watching the north star,
You can get drunk and not die,
Live all that is written,
'tis the will of the poet,
La palmure! J'am trop tard!¹
Soft sophist; sophisticated hardly.

Footnotes:
1. La palmure...tard "The web! I'm too late!"

The Sophist

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Ohm, I wish to be Austere,
For if I knew I was her end,
I truly wouldn't care.

Ohm, I wish to be the air,
To float where she has fun,
For truly there is none,
If in life she isn't there,

Ohm, I wish to be the Pleiades,
Forever sailing ones,
Sailing to my maiden's needs.

Ohm, I with to be Pellucid,
An interest in her sight,
To cloud her camera obscura.

Ohm, I wish to be Polaris,
In dark her warmest light,
Beaming through her apertures.

Gord

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Felonious,
Like I flew through the disc.
Understood every metaphor,
In every one of his hits.
Like I stood to an applause.
Uproarious.

Gord

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Felonious,
Like I flew through the disc.
Understood every metaphor,
In every one of his hits.
Poet, who were they written for?

The Sophist

2014-04-06 12:00 am

Now I'm alone,
My plans fall through my hands,
My plans falter my plans,
Ditch-dogging philosophers,
Diurnal bemoan,
Unified spirit,
Plods as it tries,
Not to grovel and heave,
Unable to die,
Hand firmly on heart,
Swear tell not a lie,
Humankind curses nix,
Shant invention decry,
For those who know me,
Easy going guy,
Steed Spearhorse,
A nobody,
Unable to kill a man,
With no body.
Triangles illuminating,
Intercepting, dissecting,
Emanating, reflecting.
Nervously wrecked,
Fuck-up of the hoi polloi,
A boy torn from life,
Tearing back at the tears,
Falling drunken sufficed,
Your plans fall in your hands,
Your plans are your plans,
You fall alone,
Your all alone,
And I'm Alone,
To Die Alone.

The Sophist

2014-03-07 12:00 am

A life pre-mortem;
Death of The Sophist that is;
Dying of boredom.
Deaf ears of the Quietude;
Hear tunes but abhor dem.
Good, there's more for 'em;
In a song they can hate through,
Than the femme de la femmes.
De la silence we dance to;
Scrotal Tongue's creme de la creme;
An online forum.

Gord

2014-03-07 12:00 am

Teach me to breathe again,
Teach me to fish among the bears;
Until boars bearing teeth sheath their wares,
and thus keep secret to themselves, cares;

I care naught, to teach me, teach me not;
Those that let me rot gave me teeth;
and then taught me of freedom through proxy;
Thus keep secrets to yourself, forget them not;

In age I will not be forgotten,
A new age will dawn upon them,
A swirl of value, morality is drawn in;
Only remembered are those who ascend to godhead;

The Sophist

2014-03-07 12:00 am

Hoeryong Concentration Camp,
Saul-ri, North Hamgyong, North Korea.
Google Maps can see it;
The place where he was raised.

Hooks through shoulders dance;
Three generations relieve it;
Crimes against human spirit;
Humanity crazed,
Choose to not believe it.

See Kitty Genovese,
In a nation void of peace,
Cries out for help.

Markets open and diseased;
Meth soaked in teas.
Get high;
Accept defeat.

The Sophist

2014-03-07 12:00 am

Bueller, Bueller, Bueller
Pews faced to view the fooler
Tools taken from the tooler
Put online to try and school her

Austerity, Austerity, Austere
A cry that no-one cares to
Words with fares to blare through
Worlds unfair to tear through

Heaven, Heaven, Above
A thought I think the world of
If nothing comes from nothing
What are acts of love?

Dusti Rodes

2014-03-06 12:00 am

Bringin' it on 'ome

 One minute,
 We're jokin' with,
 The next, Pokin',
 One another.
 Sendin' silly Sunflowers,
 Exchangin' banal banter,
 Fixin' up homesteads,
 In Farmville;
 On Facebook.

 Then in a 'shanty town' ,
 On a mud-strewn hillside,
 In Brazil.

 Or down on the Delta,
 In the bayous and levees,
 On the Mexican Gulf.

 In the centre of Brisbane,
 'The Sunken City',
 In the Sunshine State.

 Out in the suburbs,
 And the surroundin' countryside,
 In the vast areas of deluge,
 Of Queensland.
 In Pakistan,
 And Haiti.

 'Friends', are fightin',
 For their very lives;
 Through no fault of their own.

 Dusti Rodes (2012)

Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

Memories of Menorca

The solitary star
The lone gull
Lack of light
dark and deep
Guarded by the lion-dog
In two-tone green and black and white
Part Chihuahua, part Pekinese.

Sunrise over Citudella
Purple and pink
Blues and browns
Age old ruins
Built of rocks
That are tumbling down.

Out of the stillness
Came a rustle
The wind whispered "Morning"
Gull winging, effortlessly
Sparrows busying in their daily task
Of feeding their families.

No different from other mere mortals
Who stand and observe
Through peephole portals
On life below and above.

Pylons, all in a line,
Taking power to the people.
John Lennon would be proud.

Illuminated cars, kerb crawling
At dawn's half light;
Wondering whether to switch off
As it is no longer night.

To hell with sunrise
Watching the clouds come up,
Shrouding the stars
With their whiteness
From the deep dark blue
Of Menorcan night.

An old boy, reminds me of myself,
Lone party goer, maybe?
One hell of a walk
From Cala Forcat
After our session at Night Fever.
Sun rises over Citudella
And Cala Blanes.

Rabbits running,
Ants busy, busy;
Relaxing perhaps,
For a jam sandwich
Carelessly cast away.
Before the heat forces
Them to siesta,
On a Menorcan morning
At the end of June.

A lone songbird,
Chortles its wakeup tune;
My bag, bathed in Menorcan sunlight
Casting shadows of strangest hues
The old currant bun
Promising a day of brightness.

Painted by light,
In Nature's brightest colours,
The single rock on the lawn
Looking like a monolith
From eons past.

A donkey, braying,
Radio, playing
People, singing,
And speaking in Spanish.
Then, Rick Astley,
In English.
Never going to give you up.
Menorcan memories.


Dusti Rodes (2002)

Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

Postcard from Spain

The deep blue Med,
Bleeding red,
With green seaweed.

Ten thousand immigrant flies,
Travelling in on the wings
Of the Sirocco;
From north Morocco.

The power of the Siesta Sun,
Making the sand in my shoe hot.

Luscious lips, not bruised
Neither battered nor burnt,
Grappling with grapefruits.

Paradise Beach,
Paraded with parasol palms;
Waves breaking
On a wind-kissed shore.

I may be bathing later,
I am still not sure.

A lone bathing beauty,
From the Lone Star state,
Ear to the phone.
Southern Belle;
Listening to Western Bell.

Had to go and see
My mountain,
Standing stark
In darkest Dakota.

Aqui,Casas de Lujo.
Here, Luxury Houses.
Cornish Cream,
Mandarin Palace.

Urban graffiti
In an idyllic setting.
Perfect paradox.
Jet plane trucking
Leaving tyre tracks
In the bright blue sky.

Sun-kissed shingle.
Sitting on a man-made rock,
The sea has shaped
To blend in with the shoreline.
Concrete clusters;
Indistinguishable,
From indigenous icons

Seaweed green, but yesterday,
Bleached red,
By the unforgiving sun today.
Granite granules,
Marble monolinths.
Sculptured saline symbols.

Yellow bouys bobbing,
Effortlessly.
Looking like a line of sweet corn,
Positioned precariously
On a willow patterned plate.

To my right,
A multitude of people,
To my left,
A hundred more.
But I sit here,
Surrounded by the solitude of silence.

Alone, with only my thoughts,
For company.
'Cept for the gentle breeze,
Whispering words of untold wisdom.
Gleaned from eons of eavesdropping,
On its many invisible travels
Around the globe.

The unseen listener of many conversations,
Keeper of Confidences,
Storer or Secrets,
Librarian of Lies,
Treasurer of Truths.
Spreading the gospel of God,
By the Mediterranean Sea.

I went away
And wrote.

Warm winds,
Helicopter hovering,
Gentle gyrations.
Drenched dog,
Bedraggled by brine.
Dappled writing,
Caused by the sun
Through the brim
Of my hat.

Beach-combing bum,
Scouring the shoreline,
With a plastic bag,
because of the hole
In my pocket.

Gone is the moment
For forced photography,
A thousand photos,
But only one picture.

Stranger on a foreign shore,
Leaving only footprints
In the sands;
Taking nothing
But memories.

Beached rowboats;
Wooden rafts,
Made from discarded
Wine crates.

Dusti Rodes (2002)