Gord
2026-08-03 07:29 pm
Why is it, that time created distance, And why from persistence, this time, Came great suffering, and pestilence. Given tongue, and often structure, In return: local, but of foreign work, Until laughter, then giving up. Why is it, that you have so much? And share little with anyone else. Why is it, that you hate so much? And have love for only yourself... Given love, and given supper, And little of anything else. Envy itself, has deadly effect, And little of anything else.
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Gord
2026-06-30 05:35 pm
Carefree, on hemp seed, A puzzle, along with hep C, Treated like edge pieces, Touched first, then only seen. 26 ounces to freedom, Buried under flowery teachers, Empty encounters, and fools either. Cartoonish freedom, Act II, Scene I, Julius Caesar, You learn through teamwork, To hate what you love, To harm your equals. What, beyond commerce, makes poorer people? Judgement in the form of evil, Husbandry, broken femurs, Leaders, in court of reason. And probably threesomes too. But when Gordon hears a who, I never leave a room, In fact, I totally approve., Like I was told a deeper truth.
Gord
2026-06-04 10:00 pm
Little bug: Little pigs, Little frogs, Little slug. Finger work beneath civil tongue: Fish supper, friction with drums. A little brother, too big for hugs, A little bit of dust, bits of rough: Personality, but's and cynical plots, Digital work beneath a given tongue. What would you say to me honestly? That you wish I was crushed? Well, I'm not. I lived never thinking of you much. Where is your response? Little love for little bugs, Simple things, inner calm, bigger cause... More concern for grudges, Than writing another song. Give a little time, you give it up... A little pain, a little age, little fun: Singing about doors that are shut, Invisible cuts that the makeup covers, For a while, until the stage goes dark, Then begins your performance, Entertainment to little bugs.
Gord
2025-12-08 08:38 pm
Disdain of flesh, Decay of sense, Working late, again, It remains unsaid. Burning bayonets, Arms, upon a chair, I, long to embrace myself, Instead of remain unsaid, Undead and lifeless.
Gord
2025-11-04 06:58 am
Every artist has a last work, Cherry blossom fall to earth. Scary monsters have last words, Respectfully, mostly bollocks, Withdraw the sword and worth, It's nothing after all you've done.
Gord
2025-09-17 06:41 am
May I judge? The chaos comes, Under veil of doves, not weight problems. May I judge? Love is based on trust, Something you know nothing of, Like plain hard work and using gloves. Broken promises, safe guarded, Imitation artist with an imitation father, Imitated marble walls to floor, How are those games you play at home? May I judge? The chaos comes, Not in the break ups, it's there all along. Eighty dollars for a game cartridge. May I judge? Are the games you play fun? What about friendship, was it there all along? Under a veil of doves, a veil of darkness, Changing promises, a raging monster.
Gord
2025-06-18 03:16 am
Fist, upon brickwork, in repetition, My impression is the stigma persists, It's an effect of my symptoms... In reminiscence, problems were clear, Upon a cliff, above the tar pits, I think of a picture with scribbles on it, It's funny, small things, in the end, Even left in place, I would jump to my death. Vodka Tonic, Kalamata olive, My impression is the addiction persists, It's effectively my existence.
Gord
2025-01-09 03:48 am
Hell is where bones conjoin. Fell into boys, resin oil, foil... Paranoid terror, disappointment. What was worse, Your disease, or my point? Multiple choice questions on the medical forms, Your network connections on cellular phones. Joint ventures, a voice credits feminine for, But between the temples the evidence shows. Goodbye are the days, Yellow presence, White, like breast or loin, and yet, still like poinsettia, Red on the inside. Compare your sickness to mine, Hell is where bones conjoin, There to which the feathers fall, Quality of life destroyed, Vaporizer oil, foil, credit card, Paranoid terror, disappointment. The spider bites with sting of poison, Whether on the page or from an arm.
Gord
2024-11-26 07:08 am
I see yellow, blue in disbelief. Spiritual sterility, misdeeds, Financial instability, tricks, Affinity for weed. Advocate for your beliefs, Maybe, about that, you should sing, Not wordsmiths, suicidal tendencies, And bowing, Hands and head about the strings. Red is the color of blood, Red is the brickwork at home, Red is the byproduct of cones, Red is the color of love, Cleft lips, crushed bugs, Insides of lungs. Scry from that what you like, But Toronto has a darkness, That should be red and white.
Gord
2024-08-04 09:27 pm
Like the sun heats sand, Marrow, lemon, butter. Yellow begets yellow. You can get by, off nomenclatures, You can get off of your oral favours, High horse and compare your god. Yellow teeth, shallow gums, fallow claws, Yellow is the sun that follows you home, Yellow is Chicago, Toronto and New York. Kill fellow flowers to see if he loves you, A selfish color that swallows you whole. Reach the threshold for silence, clap. It takes not much for violence to start. Although, you know that. So, like the sun meets the sand, Grassland or temperant meadow. Yellow begets yellow, Green, brown and red. You can get by, off those things you said, Oral favours or fine works of art you posess. I see the yellow for what it is.
Gord
2024-07-21 08:49 pm
Yellow, and a bit of blue, Both, I, and you. Purple, Lilac, I just care not for it. Just like you never cared for me, Or any of the things that I thought. Fetch mother, friends, for comfort. Tell your co workers, or consort. I, no longer for dramatic concert, Agriculture of the hallway, march, July, august or months of autumn, Yellow, burst into skies of orange. See If I toss and turn about it. Like, he drives a porche, owns gold, Fire and opal in his coat pockets. Like, the eyes of horses see god, They see not much beyond carrots, Understand little of soap, clothes. Like, maybe you cared for poems, Little for poets, less even for prose.
Lynn
2023-05-12 09:46 pm
Dear [insert name of co-worker or supervisor here], It was [insert positive noun or adjective here] to work with you. I always admired your [insert dubiously positive quality here, be snitty or passive-aggressive if you so wish]. My favorite memory here was the time when [insert vaguely positive memory here; if none, insert successful venture here; if none, indicate that there were too many positive memories to choose just one; or if that even feels too disingenuous, skip directly to next paragraph]. I wish you [circle one or more: prosperity / health / joy / all the best]. Sincerely, [sign name here] [remember: be POSITIVE! your time here was WONDERFUL! you gained SO MUCH experience! you made TONS of friends! you leave on GREAT terms! the BEST! ]
Gord
2022-10-26 02:34 am
Alone, he works, A loan, he works, Alone he works his loan off, Alone of course. And alone in the dark he hopes, For a road that leads north. A lot like a microphone, like a diving horse of war, Spoken to, of, admired so, By eye, tongue or sword
Lynn
2022-04-14 10:00 pm
away from work is time for family away from family is time with myself away from myself is time to write away from writing is time to work
psyaviah
2021-12-07 08:58 am
Trackside, the engineer twists and turns Back and forth - on the chair Tapping feet Biting their lips Clenching fists The balance must be right Between performance, between life Focus, forthright In every tiny decision Every design to make Weighing off the balance of winning Versus the life one could take At light speed, the pilot twists and turns Every lap, committed in the highest of G's Back and forth - shifts and learns Working wrists Operating feet The balance must be right Between speed, between sight In every corner A decision awaits Weigh the balance of life Versus the passion to race
Gord
2021-04-23 09:07 am
I write of simple, financial issues, Career moves, Careening doves living. Writing of her dimples; I can forgive, no substantial dispute, Education isn't a standard issue, Like flies striking a civilian, What little I know I know little of, And even that I misuse. An Odyssey of nonsense words, I write, Simple, my peers peer my finger works, Writhe in vigor, like flies in flight.
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.
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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