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?

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.

Gord

2014-08-22 12:00 am

Mine Girl: Slut.

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.

Gord

2014-08-21 12:00 am

I innocently sat sidelined,
While sidewinder missiles,
Blackened and filled the sky.
They saw no oversight.

Then calamity, personnel,
Call out and rome fell,
The claim don't prose well.
Well, I suppose they don't.
But I never was no poet.

Gord

2014-08-18 12:00 am

We stand upon nothing,
The precipice of canon,
Software of happening,
My floppy hardening,
Female ports plugged.
Shrugging I continue plugging,
Is this thing even turned on?

Gord

2014-08-15 12:00 am

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.

Gord

2014-08-13 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.

Gord

2014-08-12 12:00 am

In jealousy they salt the earth,
An appearance for my demise,
I die and no tear falls perched,
A fitting design for a tyrant.
In jealousy you all despise.

Hypocrites stall the trade of curd.
Poetically their dreams are poor,
No science behind an abstract score,
Chipping in a two cent piece,
When the wishing well is already full. 

Gord

2014-08-11 12:00 am

Alas, you make like critics predicted.
The marathon runner now needs no glass.
Condensation enough for a victory.
Shock has found equivalency,
Just adopt this piece of shit dog.
Type? Don't ask me.
It would be a vain attempt at breed,
Trivializing my identity.

Gord

2014-08-07 12:00 am

I traverse the dark of the caverns:
All I find is bottoms and laughter.
Palaced me within a circular pattern,
I find no gains,
And no means to make with.
Yet I find no pain,
So is it easier to make wishes?
Than to actually fulfill them?
Is it easier to scale a building?
Or easier to commit this build?
Maybe it's even easier to stand idly by.
Planes fly into buildings, make six billion.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

I'm sorry,
She called me,
amateur poet,
Who is she?
To question the merit,
of an artist?
I mean,
Is she marxist?
Does she study philosophy?
I mean, 
It seems like her carpet,
Would be stained cheese.
I mean,
Where was her fedora?
The Woman should insulted be,
Why? Equality.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

Complacency, 
A transformative lyric.
Appear differently,
Every time you see it.
Feel questions,
Appearance less glee,
It just gets to me,
Questions my career:
Rhyming a chair,
with chairs a little less green.

Gord

2014-08-01 12:00 am

Out in the doldroms, it's just a cold world.
Winds of change brew but die in a wave fold.
I'm incapable of change, 
You're incapable of the same.
So it must be predetermined, 
Hard determinist actors mimic a proper stage.
Lately I've been looking for a cage,
To preordain my life to hide from slaves.
Complacency locks people in a cage,
Claim preordain is to lie of the blame.
Out in the cold world, you make your own.
Ride the wind or die in a wave fold, 
If you're incapable of change,
Often your life is predetermined based on status,
So if the last thing I see is a image phallic,
Last thing they see from me is one right back.

Gord

2014-07-31 12:00 am

The wings and bonds of summer upon us,
The warmer months warm up on us;
Summer denounces winter, for lack of trust,
The lack of faith in its cold heart disgust summer.

W'ould bring upon us a greater bond,
Causes desperation euphoria then falter;
To fly upon the ocean, with lack of knowledge,
The lack of which is its fold into carnage.

Gord

2014-07-31 12:00 am

My magnum opus produced at my alma mater,
The laughter is too great to justify release after.