Gord

2014-10-28 12:00 am

A million stars align to begin nothing,
Can truly the best begin insulting?
A test of love becomes benign offspring.
A gentle hand caresses a face softly,
Yet with the other casts aside a spade.
Cannot the hands of god be unloving?
Those wish for pain receive cavalcade,
Thinking prayer for cake, not for absolving.
Best rhymes touted as insults,
Trying to be what they aren't: wise.
True rhymes timeless be, no beauty sulks.
No man plays games to receive a prize.

Cannot you write of greater things?
Or still is life consumed with frings?

Gord

2014-10-27 12:00 am

Trysts seem so juvenile,
Society seems so obsessed,
Piling on, cracking tile,
Possessed gods false dressed,
Never again to remark.
Quiet piety trumped,
They never said to hark,
Only to trumpet forth.

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;

Gord

2014-09-05 12:00 am

A cell is the only home I've ever known,
Ad hominem, myself, let you down, I know.
A child dreams of life in a home, with love,
Only way of attaining goals is selling drugs.
My father was a bad influence growing up,
His father was a bad influence,
  when he was growing up,
Now that I've grown up,
I've decided to be one myself.
The Phoenix Rises again,
To be condemned to a cell.

Gord

2014-09-05 12:00 am

Slane Girl
I wish I were
Giving head to my peers
All these feelings ecstasy brings
Lack of self control teenagers portray
No ecstasy feelings linger
No hand from my peers
Wish I weren't
Slane Girl

Gord

2014-09-05 12:00 am

I write oral histories,
Stories, opened on lies.
So everyone else a liar.
I'm not of their kind,
Though, I seem like-minded.
I seem to like it tough,
So your head and cough,
I've gotta do my job.

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?

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.