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.
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Gord
2014-09-04 12:00 am
No void ever felt more like home. No survivor of the pipe ever wrote, So white stars filled the sky often, Orchestrating slightly bizarre concepts, On equally bizarre table of conception.
Gord
2014-09-02 12:00 am
I transform retribution, I collide with an enemy, Destined for fusion, Corroding my memory, Crashing the computer, That is me. I open on pretense false, In hopes to gain my loss, Yet no fate goes uncrossed, No face goes on unmarked, No bullet grazes, They self aim and kill marks. In honesty, I hope for their retribution, Not believing what you do, I find no institution for truth, Investigations reveal soot. To conceal boots under sock. Truth should be implied, Secrets shouldn't even be whispered, When no secret knock is employed. Among Imperials, two faces clash, Destroying the child middle, Purpose born was to protect class. Among the tyrants, A sleeping dog, His brother opposite, A sleeping god, Purpose forlorn and meaning lost. Shoot the gun across, regardless, Trees grow from the river, Implying a garden should exist. Yet at the bottom I find no solace. No mythical beast of which to conquer, Nor mythical flower of to tame beasts. So no feast among mythical followers. Sewn feet no longer bother to move. Brooms no longer even bother to sweep. I see Cost front by the citizen, Expected which are also to clean. Past participle's partisan cuts so cleanly, No partisan is left opposite to thee. Clearly, No god laughs, Sincerely, No god falters, And no human shots cast, Except into human carnage. No gain for loss, No pyrrhic victory, Due course. No force of sympathy, homeopathy, anthropology, from the horse. No, mostly poor choices. Voices ringing with phones dead. No voices in his head, Scream morality. of course. No soldier gains a victory. sans cost. None recognize the courage, of Hailey's comet. So the gunfire blazes onward. Amongst the slain, are the slain. Those who shoot have bullets same. My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza, Which I modify to fit in holster, As exactly as I imagined her, Far above a reasonable caliber. For a man who lacks resources, For as a woman he lacked chorus, Pestilence amongst the formal courtships. How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible. I stand purportedly screaming peace, Screaming bullets purportedly corpse. I stand in face of uproarious force, Screaming should-haves, Scoring for would-have, Who now will manage. Tired, I cast aside, Casting stones seems now juvenile. Especially in a world this finite, Who needs to choir for killing time? Button press' jest as being less vile, Truth as masked chide, Who now will bandage?
Gord
2014-09-02 12:00 am
I stand purportedly screaming peace, Screaming bullets purportedly corpse. I stand in face of uproarious force, Screaming should-haves, Scoring for would-have, Who now will manage. Tired, I cast aside, Casting stones seems now juvenile. Especially in a world this finite, Who needs to choir for killing time? Button press' jest as being less vile, Truth as masked chide, Who now will bandage?
The Sophist
2014-08-28 12:00 am
My mother thought that being silent was smart. This is why I spent days in the dark, bed-crazed and my heart sobbing. I was ignorant of light blocked by goblins of my mind hoping to keep me trapped in the land of forgotten. Now I'm plodding; plotting my escape daily to find peace whopping, lock it with me in a coffin and die flopping; watching my life pass before my eyelids drop and my chest begins rocking. It's like trainspotting or going yachting; either way it's going to cost me, and either way I'm rotting. I like to believe this is my personality popping, but I also believe that everything I do's common. I'm not smart, I'm not witty, in wealth I'm not sopping. I'm not silent, and I pity the poor for their problems. I'm not here to cheat people or shit on their knowledge. Prithee a moment where people aren't thoughtless; prithee a moment to claim a few losses for a man who silent misfortune made solemn.
The Sophist
2014-08-28 12:00 am
A generation mugging for the camera, Ban them, Have all their shows cancelled. Fight their right to put life at a stand still, Investing in communes of every-day shills, Pushing brands in their hands while they're dancing on pills, What have you to say if they're killing themselves? Porcelain dreams putting dirt in the well, Laptops so hot they deplete all their cells, I believe this is better than hell, A step above; Below everything else. I believe we can rise above self. Rather than die just help everyone else; Setting up systems to help after death. I'm reading from cues I'll admit. There's someone else there; He can't write; I can't think; I'm too dumb; He's too quick. A perfect man split. Think, think, I need another answer, Before this beauty becomes burden, An innovation longing for the grammar.
Gord
2014-08-28 12:00 am
How do we create such a melody? Such harmony of utter melancholy. How do we classify such insanity? Such discourtesy on our society. Such, bullets access and exit quickly. Thus is the mark of beasts. Thus a heart no longer beats. Almost lack of mention was lack of faith. Remembered and forgotten to become same. All lost the castles of old days, Only sandcastles remain standing, Reminder of temporary management, Of how well that pays. I depart to vent, Find myself post-traumatic, I start to mention, Find myself post-dramatic, I mark myself bent, Find myself post dragging. Hoping to move forward, Forgetting that lost in battle. I sigh, I realize that's not possible.
Gord
2014-08-28 12:00 am
No trills pursued are let out. No skilled musicians left around. No, I cannot live without, Nor can I live with, so how? So now no sow is milked, No free man is guilt'ed, So am I finally free to kill?
The Sophist
2014-08-27 12:00 am
What differs us; Introspectively we diminish complexities of our forms. This is why we have technologous inventions, Rearranging norms. We apply our new conventions, First to rich and then to poor, Not this our main intention, But complex enough for sure, To be the aim of this erection, Before we put it in a whore, Let's reflect on resurrection, It is you you're fighting for.
The Sophist
2014-08-27 12:00 am
To accompany a symphony of strings; Vibrant sounds for vibing kings; I play the timpani and you sing. This sitch just ain't our thing, We just don't have what they want us to bring.
Gord
2014-08-27 12:00 am
My hero lacks discourse, Decisions made lack loss. My hero lacks mustard, Dry bread lack lustre. Meat tastes like horse.
Gord
2014-08-26 12:00 am
Let god know I denounced. Have it be first word of mouth. So his command can cast doubt, Provide shelter, sans house. Let angels know I pray ascension, Prithee be the small good remaining, Ironically the faith of god wains, His couch no longer provides training, Only a paper trail of patronizing.
Aharon Yosef
2014-08-25 12:00 am
Silent time reveals, Beyond the winters passing, A light forever wanders, Yonder others dancing. Of nautica they sing, Navigating nothing, Fabric of all space and time, Dark as oceans lovely.
The Sophist
2014-08-25 12:00 am
If you're called queer, but you aren't a gay, If you rub beards with the same fag, Maybe my lips are cleft, Might be my lazy eye, My sexuality is wild. Pharrell: Come dirty it up! I take off all my clothes, Prepare for masturbation, Acting all casual, Prepare an invitation, Ask her for licks and spanks too, No, No, No, Don't want to rape her, No, No, No, Men satisfy my anger. That's why I'm giving gay life a whirl, Not genderphobic, But you wouldn't know it, I'm afraid to show it, But I want girls, But I let guys blast me, My face gets nasty, All covered in man skeet, I'm talking bad times. Not genderphobic, You wouldn't know it, I'm afraid to show it, But I want girls, But they won't grab me, If I do they slap me, Gave up and got past it, Pharrell: Come dirty it up! Why do I dream poor? My life never screams fun, I spend nights on YouPorn, Used to all this dick in my face, Somebody fuck me, Oh, oh, oh, Who wants to fuck me? Oh, oh, oh, Smoke dimes, Come fuck me. I take off all my clothes, Prepare for masturbation, Acting all casual, Prepare an invitation, Ask her for licks and spanks too, No, No, No, Don't want to rape her, No, No, No, Men satisfy my anger. That's why I'm giving gay life a whirl, Not homophobic, But a little bit dope sick, AIDs epidemic, Got me all butt hurt, On which sex I should marry, Not based on who loves me, I'm talking a party, I'm talking bad times, Not homophobic, But a little bit dope sick, Let's hope I don't get, Stuck without girls, Or without laughing, At a guy that's jacking, Me off in his panties. Pharrell: Come dirty it up!
The Sophist
2014-08-25 12:00 am
New day intrinsically. Prone intrinsic sleep, A world so strange, It mocks the sane, Or so it seems to be, As two arrange for three, Plan the day, Hours wane, So one can live in peace, Intrinsic wake so suddenly, Search for cables in a rage, Time is locked away. Twenty minutes after three, Moon falls soon from the trees, Longing for to stay, Now not time for play, I clean myself and peace, Work for eight or so at least, Bike home, Bus if there is rain, Smoke a bowl then meditate, One by one prepare the feast. Deranged I aim to vaguely please, People bitching in my face, Keeping up a steady pace, Intrinsically return to sleep, New days for eternity.
The Sophist
2014-08-21 12:00 am
A Letter For A Dumb Cunt; That Slut. Honk your horn and yell "fuck, Fuck, Shit, move on to the sidewalk" on Bayview Avenue. Suck my dick; Long deck is muscle power. Like that face covered muff. So Fuck you; Fuck your poon smeg also. Piss off back to hell; Take your jizz twat. Slut shoo. Make prey upon some four-some. Jism over your butt plug. Arse full like some wank show, You race to get face fucked, I glide as my bands flow, Fuck your dumb cunt shit, Bozo.
Gord
2014-08-21 12:00 am
No gain for loss, No pyrrhic victory, Due course. No force of sympathy, homeopathy, anthropology, from the horse. No, mostly poor choices. Voices ringing with phones dead. No voices in his head, Scream morality. of course. No soldier gains a victory. sans cost. None recognize the courage, of Hailey's comet. So the gunfire blazes onward. Amongst the slain, are the slain. Those who shoot have bullets same. My Deschamps is but modified Spinoza, Which I modify to fit in holster, As exactly as I imagined her, Far above a reasonable caliber. For a man who lacks resources, For as a woman he lacked chorus, Pestilence amongst the formal courtships.
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