Phnks

Just your average computer programmer amateur poet, except I call myself Phnks instead of Phoenix and so you may or may not find some interesting stuff here ;)

[phnks]

She Became a Superhero

She Became a Superhero

Fractal death, dying within the dead, Nobody could anticipate the crash, It was all on days of honey but for one metal stash, Stashed in bodies of nectar and bees came for the harvest, Pollinate the remains from flowers of the other side

Photograph the flowers, beauty memorized, in shades of pounding horror and cold iron... Should she remember? Would you do better? Or would you also forget her?

So... I'll be honest, I haven't posted a while so I just wanted to post, something, anything. Went through my poetry backlog... and I thought why not post a scrap I did a little while back? And by scrap I mean a piece I didn't finish, I wrote in one sitting, with some emotion in mind but never got there. And so... we're left with a scrap. It's strange I'll admit, not sure how much sense it really even makes to a reader, but you know, I think it's a worth while piece just because it's a scrap. Maybe it was meant to end where I ended it even if I didn't plan that. Maybe it great all on it's own, maybe it was always meant to be great scrap Enjoy! -The one and only Phnks 

[phnks]

If You Twisted

Happy belated Valentine's Day everyone This is not a Valentine's Day piece... or is it? Perhaps if you twisted your mind the right way... -Phnks

http://www.phnks.com/writing/FirewallBurnout/IfYouTwisted

If You Twisted

Twisted struggled fought to witness, Your words bent warped down with a grimace You trained with the resistance, They moulded you; shaped a clot from a schism, They broke faith with their methods, broke faith with their art and ran to fields soaked from the blood, caricature from the blood, deformed from the blood, refigured and mourned from the start Yet squished your mind into a cart, Coiled correctly cornering your carapace, Crushed constantly; caring carnivorously, Torn tarnished trapped and twisted... If only you twisted and struggled and fought to witness, The beginning of the end of their sickness

[phnks]

Terminal Velocity

This is a recent weird prosetry thing I mocked up. It's a conversation, and really, if you read just the parts in quotations, it is just that. In between I spice things up a bit with "commentary" really, but it also adds rhythm and rhyme to the whole thing. The conversation bits I guess count as more prose like, and the lines between: the poetry. Or maybe I'll call it conversational poetry... not the first time I've tried something like this with mixed results "The Train" is a similar style, "Out of Time", "Mind, Body, or Spirit", just some examples of when I tried this style before. Hope you enjoy -Phnks

Terminal Velocity

"If I should give up declare my life forfeit" and let me fall stumbling struck smashed. "We won't. You won't. I won't let you fall" terminal: the end and life renounced. "If I only lived to succeed... what's left now" if death is a vector and life a scalar, "Hope and spirit, the science of try forever" the human spirit will be the differentiator? "And if we don't make it? I cannot live life so fake" so you'll shake down the culprit, but you mistake, "We never die till the day we surrender, so let us swear together..." it's not your enemy it's you-you must not forsake; "Announce we will never break, for terminal velocity is something you make" something the human spirit can engineer, build, change, even break: one must fight for life's sake

[phnks]

Come to Life

We are going to die and that makes us the lucky ones. -From your friendly neighborhood Phnks

Come to Life

Passion fruit reigns king of my mouth, Deliberate sacrilege leaving my taste buds in drought, Kindling for flames and torrential storms: Passion wrung through fire bringing seeds of euphoria And now doubt, Of a feeling so bitterly fought for and so suddenly found, So haphazardly it drops as embers in one's lap, Catch it's flares and feel warmth travel past... Then why a sour betrayal follows me on this path? Deconstructed destroyed this angelic feeling, Born of a passion's final righteous ripening, Was my lack of belief the fungal spore of this darkening? Perhaps passion's successful coming was but a cruel ruse, Or perhaps it was never meant to come; only bother torture leave me lost and bemused

[phnks]

Marathon

Life can feel like a real long tough marathon sometimes... and not a physical marathon: no, this will be worse. Stay awesome, -The one and only Phnks

Marathon

Weight of mountains crush legs of fire, Each step closer to the pyre; limping with broken appendages, All bones break, most bones break OUT leaving tunnels of flesh, Actions of crawling in your own pain, swimming in it until your brain breaks But this will be worse. You will be worse for this will not heal, As flames in your mind flicker, loss of sight will claim you, As a babe walking through on legs anew... So will your memories stumble-shattering skull unto Unto the end marked crimson And ripping down, out and around, Born to be lost then melted down, It is the lightbulb over your head, The loss of space in a haze of a maze, Grey matter no matter in this land you'll shed all nostalgia of song in life's dying craze

[phnks]

Wherever Wanderers Will

Well well, it has been quite a while since I've posted to dA. And whoa whoa, a much greater time since I last posted a short story of any kind. Well, I thought, let's make up for all my time missin...

I know short stories can be kinda long, sometimes hard to put that much time into reading some else's work, I don't usual post something this long after all. So here's some back story to it, and then go ahead and read it afterwards if it sounds interesting. 

It's fantasy, a mostly medieval-like setting. It a small tale about a group of adventurers, has some comedy (I hope), some action. It takes place in a large fantasy/sci-fi world I've been building for years now. 

So feel free to give it a read. This was written a while ago, but my fictional world is always expanding. I've got plenty more stories that I may post one day in the same world.

Enjoy and happy continuing holidays!

-The one and only Phnks

Stay awesome ;)

[phnks]

Welcome to the Crush

Well hello there. Thought I would do a real description and stuff this time, been a while and my past few posts have just like one sentence descriptions. Thought I would post a slightly different piece than the usual. Well, still very much my style I think, lot's of not the happiest words but this one is definitely meant to portray a message bigger than a single person or emotion. Been a while since I wrote anything strongly about society. Stay awesome everyone. -Phnks

Welcome to the Crush

Load bearing railings splinter and shatter, As the crush becomes overbearing, Twisting and turning; bones cracking, Convulsions betraying the truth: As the diaphragm is torn loose I watched criminals collapse, Old men and women crushed to dust, Hard working people throw their hands up in the air, Even children cower in fear: As anvils rain from the sky seeking pleasure upon human crust Torn open we are by metals of hate, By shrapnel pieces we are all cut level, All summoned by life's bait, We are all but livestock for some type of devil If only he spoke to me of the devil we knew, How I wish to see a monster pound us to mud, But instead he showed me reality, limped across to all of humanity, Even as gravity pulled out our skeletons, as the earth screamed in it's glorious rush, We all shook hands and welcomed the other to the crush

[phnks]

How Many is Enough

"I wish I could stay in this moment forever. I guess I actually can now, but then it wouldn't be a moment." - Max Caufield -The one and only rare Phnks

How Many is Enough

Heaving hacking the heavy heavens, Trickle trembling tear therein time, Scourging the populace-trapped in a moment, An instant abandoned, in three parts divided it's crime Black flag, black coffee into veins; surely he would commune, Chiseled marble bust, passing down titanium sarcastically, It's lighter than stone, lost love leaves its weight behind, Spinning metal locked to the wrist, as the stone man runs amiss Taking a ticking arm back... shattering all limbs, Salvage for another wrist-this one's metal crushing with loneliness, Non mechanic it's hands don't move, forever stuck never forget, Tighten the noose, tighten the strap: both metals empty but for timely scrap But the rapture wasn't done, we're all still locked up somewhere, If lonely were a verb I'd be it's adverb: till the day we got money, Compulsive nostalgia, we pocketed memories to keep, Memories as forbidden apples left to rot, even maggots bond more deep Present the present... four times in four cases, Pain for paralysis physical and meta-more moments cannot turn back time, You used to sing me to sleep, but pain paralyzes both parties in more ways than one: What would a fourth one even have done?

[phnks]

Fail Forward

Hey everyone! So this is totally different than my usual. I was reading "How To Be Me (a slinky)" by @xlntwtch2  (on dA not Tumblr) little while back and well... turned into a funny conversation there of what if someone wrote a "slinky" with some really difficult word (slinky is supposed to be a sixteen line poem where one word is repeated on each and every line). I chose "Eiffel Tower", mainly because I thought it would be very interesting to write something with Eiffel Tower repeated over and over again...     I wouldn't say this is my best work, has the strangest rhythm with Eiffel Tower repeated over and over lol, though I took some liberties and cheated a bit  It was lot's of fun to write though actually, turned out better than I thought, and I decided to make it even more interesting by well... making it a bit of a double acrostic as well Enjoy! -Phnks

Fail Foward

The shadow of the Eiffel Tower bent Heavy the glare of Alexandre Eiffel's tower, though Eiffel Tower has but quaint purpose ...but purpose BUILT-the Eiffel Tower's iron stands still... Emancipation of my own creation only Eiffel's towering visitation came I, as Alexandre's namesake had lost my Eiffel Tower: veni vidi vici Friends proclaimed, even now Eiffel towers above myself Flung from the Eiffel Tower losing my iron ring in that shameful jumpoff Everyone ran from my aura to the fair Paris grounds of the Eiffel Tower's make Leveraging lethally my love's languish, I laughed, leaving Eiffel's towering level ... A champion created countering Eiffel-towers threaten that trained theatric... Today no delay, I shall climb above Eiffel, towered bewilderment Onward! I'll catch my own iron ring from this Eiffel Tower. No Was Eiffel's tower wrought as he wore that same ring? He was no such fellow Eiffel's towering construct was born through will alone, no pointless symbols did he own; perhaps we misattribute Rings of iron are made not given, proof in Alex's ambition: the Eiffel Tower

[phnks]

Post Traumatic Storm Disorder

Haven't posted anything in a while, thought I should do something about that. This is an interesting thing I conjured up, like a sequel to "The Storm" I wrote. Probably makes more sense if that is read first. Hmmm, I might actually do more stuff based on the storm, maybe more sequels, a prequel, could be very interesting then. -Phnks

Post Traumatic Storm Disorder

Wake up every morning to snow.

A blanket so graceful, inviting sleep, Just a rest in bliss forevermore: Full of nightmares from which you shall wake up no more Watch yourself smothered as if a lobotomized man under a pillow, Crushed under an infinite blizzard death becomes pleasure, Even while demons haunt you in hell, You'll beg an end to the storm just so as to shrivel in your cell Did you ever give permission to this storm of noise? The snow is but a symptom; sleep an effect, The storm is baked based on one defect, Based on the fact your life automatically provides permission for everything it destroys It is done, hurricane finished and gone, Foundations of your home in smoke, It's time to rebuild, from the ashes grow, Does it have your permission to do so? Even the storm laughed as you spoke without control: "no" 

[phnks]

Well, haven't posted or written much in a month but here's a thing. And how strange a piece it is, I find myself rereading it multiple times and it almost sounds like it wasn't written by me, it just feels so savage and raw... Maybe I actually enjoy writing in this way, hmmm. Voices voices in my head, the taunting sounds of the walking dead. -Phnks

Finders Keepers

Let's play a game. Genetically impounded, rusty garage my game's board, love wrapped destiny my play cards, imagined: a role play, where play intersects humanity, start the clocks; smile, predator and prey are not imaginary-the hunt is it's name, scream out the game: it's time to proclaim, who is predator and prey, love smeared butchery my hand, what's yours? EMPTY Are the rules not plainly writ to see? Confused are we? Urgh, let me spell it out stupidly, Finders keepers: I care not if you die lonely Can you not read, ha, perhaps stupidity is too clean for you, Perhaps I shall dirty things up for you... perhaps I'll play this impossible game with you, let me whisper it close to you Tear down your hands, slap them down, break face: begin the crying like hail in summer... now's the time. Lonely rot, cordyceps confound you, come closer-let me taste you, feel the touch... before I leave you, bones cracking in your brain, shards of flesh only for you, not even pain to share Let's play a game, Finders keepers: I care not if you die-

[phnks]

The White Frost

Even the phoenix turns cold near the end of it's life span, though it may struggle and fight; though it may inevitably be reborn... at what price does cold ash once again become warm? -Phnks

The White Frost

Sworn in solitude, frozen solid completes you, Even as your limbs shatter-pieces of cold dead screams wound about, Avalanche of rotting white: swarms, holds, continues lethargic, torpid, Seeps in on a wild hunt thriving on knives, Bodily function slowing... Motivation deteriorating....... Mind's strength el ap sing . . . until it steals your heart. Explosions of pain bolstered further with a profound loss of shame, Heart broken, arid tears, the ice scatters, Even the white frost now fears: the heat of your bleeding heart sheds this pathetic icy skin Though I would venture out thoughts questionable to you, know that though you may quite literally break through walls of white in rage, though you may feel freedom in these holes you create, though relinquishment may shelter your face from rain, know that you are a double edged sword in this state, a bane to the frost as much as you are to your own gain

[phnks]

Hunger

Well... life has been rough and busy so had almost zero time for writing. This is a piece I found in my archive, wrote a few years back I think. Not necessarily my best work I think, but I try to at least post something once a week no matter what. It seemed interesting enough to post, long sentences almost prose like but some rhyme apparent. I also found the message behind it interesting. Strange how much of a different perspective one get's when they look at their own work years later. As always, I'd be glad to discuss the poem in the comments, even if I reply late I always reply eventually Thank you everyone, -The one and only rare Phnks

Hunger

Artificial struggling of the mind never fends off the beatings of this place, Primordial rage born of humanity enslaved is the only cure that can straighten one's face, Burn beyond a tormented maze of sorrow and pain to build again but inside an iron case The wall of dust crumbles down after ages of howling winds beating upon it's rust, Speed past it one must on an insatiable run thirsty for victory's lust, Burning the ancient desert while holding one's head as an unbreakable bust It seems another side souls do not need but always stop to ask, Bask in the glory of all that is won and all that will ever be a part of their task, One sometimes forgets but will always remember alone in the rain, One must sometimes take off the mask

[phnks]

Tuned to a Dead Channel

A short piece, just didn't feel the need to add anything... so here it goes to the public (yes that's you dear person reading this sentence). I'll sleep when I'm dead, or so the saying goes. The permanent sleep of death... but what if I'm already in a permanent sleep? Lost in a trance, my mind simply watching a dead TV channel; my mind already dead.   -Phnks

Tuned to a Dead Channel

wake up stuck, imagine self lost somewhere, somewhere where torso does not go, mind floating above a sinking fortress of gold wake up open, see television screen with melting characters, reach out and touch them empty faces, hit wall with thirsty anger only to land amongst pixel shards wake up gears, mind works out geometry, human being left behind by symmetry, walk the plank of mimicry, leave them behind a wall of meat wake up shadowy shape loom before me, let me widen mouth for I am not controller, SCREAMED I am awake... awake in a permanent sleep

[phnks]

Shell Shock

Also known as simply "Nostalgia" or "Memories" when I read other drafts before. I do try to make better than just boring one word titles. This one is not nearly as cryptic as my recent The Quest Giver, but I love having discussions in the comments about what people interpret from reading. So I'll gladly respond to any and all comments -Phnks

Shell Shock

He hides in his shell the teacher did tell, Family shrugged-maturity crosses wisdom, Smile scarred onto his lips, a turtle locked in death grips, A tortoise on its back, shell buried in wet sand, A trapped, caged, screaming band, shell shock from hell Tank not cocoon-weaponized not marooned, Ammo vanished before nuptial battles, What was a clash turned to slaughter, As the chrysalis burned in fire Heads above and down between; two, Strikes to vulnerable twins brought the end to, As quick as surely penetrating, shell rot spreading through Mind above and only one there too, Flip the animal onto a back tattooed with words, Awestruck aren't you? Desperate words unable to hold back the laughter crew Turtle, tortoise, tank crawling through closed down shells, cocoons, chrysalides cracking, Sure words-they are meant to open, Flower, butterfly, freedom, Opened at the cost of a kingdom with castle moats of scar tissue, But as the family said earlier: no issue

[phnks]

The Quest Giver

Let this poem speak for itself, I like its cryptic open ended nature. I'm curious what other's think about it, I'd be glad to discuss it in the comments Have a nice day, -The one and only rare Phnks

The Quest Giver

They awoke one day spotting the stitches. Metaphorical or literal it seemed no different, Harsh processing was what actually made the illness

They told the story in the future of course, Family, friends, beggars, and empty rooms, Yet none could recall the cyclic truth, What was at the end healed... created memory loss in all those near

Back to healing, a loop again, a spiritual machine-were they reaching their end? End of brain strife embedded needles of pain, such repugnant disease, the end of one's self, which one to please?

Like I said before, they told their story many more, I see them often, I've seen them before, They flowered beyond their simple form, Yet I see the scars written, another to give its due accord, So many patches, no one can longer recognize their norm

Circles of edges infinite they walk, They themselves are the ones they stalk, Fix one glitch, or patch them all, They'll come back again... with life's withdrawal

[phnks]

Gaia

I had a few longer more interesting poems I wanted to post yesterday... but I didn't. I'll just leave this here instead, its short, simple, hastily written, but sometimes I just want to get some emotions out on paper. Happy late mother's day everyone, -Phnks

Gaia

Mother, Why did you pour your love into me? Poured tears born into rivers, but dams I built in front, Drowning before your onslaught... my sole reaction a raging shrug

Mother, I discarded your baggage, ruthlessly sacrificed you as garbage, Love I put in the shredder, what came out-I shudder, Mother, oh mother, I wonder what became of our time together?

Mother, Reconciliation: I tried but failed, It seems I only hugged your corpse, what remained; rivers no longer flowed, Tears gone, seems I'm the only one left to make them go

Mother, The pain I feel will not repent, the guilt leaves nothing but the dams I built, Fast asleep, will you never awaken? Scars I have left on you, I cannot retake them, But perhaps you'll return somewhen, for I fear we'll not meet in hell's after show...

Mother, oh mother, Where did the love go?