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Literature
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
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 9 1
Literature
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
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 7 3
Literature
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
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 9 4
Literature
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
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 10 16
Literature
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
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 11 14
Literature
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?
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 6 6
Literature
Born of the Eclipse
Born in the night and blinded by daylight,
Crawling amongst sounds of anguish,
Helpless, broken, and banished,
The spark extinguished it makes no difference
I make my own spark, my fire in the dark,
Mission prepared; my hope on invisible plans made bare,
Countdown is here, the way clear, dropping all fear,
From spark to fire, I send my nightly prison to the pyre
Burn all hidden doubt, step free from your haunting shroud and you shall-ignite your buried powers, become your true self and take your own route clasping the-ember with you warding off mischievous shadows, give yourself time to fully flower as you hold up your-torch against malevolent persons, keep friends who care for you beyond tomorrows...
Let all demons come I pronounce this dare,
Let them come to be denounced, turn them all into guardians of my kind,
Because I was born in the night,
I learned to love myself and others,
I learned how to make my own piece of light
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 18 12
Literature
Summer Never Again
It’s a park
Grass to be traversed, trees for shade, people on paths belonging, leaves dispersed,
TRAVERSED
SHADE
BELONG
DISPERSED
Parks carry roads which are traversed,
By people many,
many of which are hiding monsters refused,
This park is painted in this fresh coat of beasts,
all of them stalking from dark shades abused
The park's tall trees create shade from the sun,
People resting with heads to warm earth...
Power unleashed from darkness unheard, the storm is coming
on the horizon-absurd it belongs in pain filled galleries disturbed
The park belongs as it blends along the concrete of the city's street halls,
Hand in hand,
the people walk willingly-hunters walk willingly...
Blood pressure spiking as the wolves come running,
Stumbling crashing dispersed, they come, they come,
to quench their thirst
Lives dispersed ruined and left dry,
Who was the first and how did they die?
All shriveled in this cemetery-no, a park...
either way, they seem to cry,
Tears flowing down their husks
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 6 4
Literature
The Storm
Bending breaking bloodied baking
in an oven's sickness spreading,
Smeared across a white pure sky,
Teardrop one ink spot and
ripple...
ripple...
ripple...
out until I die
Trapped
in this oven built by life's unfairs,
Permanent colors smudge my retinas fused with welding flares,
Blindly stumbling crumbling through this oven's savage thundering,
A rotten throbbing gasping storm is brewing-is coming
The air no more, the sky though
It swore
I swear it swore, it would never be put out anymore,
Now blazing tempests roam, the oven swallows the sky I used to know,
I beg it, beg it, beg it: show me the sky once more, once more...
once more
I am the ribcage once broken come back in shards spread on your face,
I have mixed your body with human paint I found on the floor,
There is nothing in your times of antiquity that steals away from my sentence,
I am your life's pallet scarred scared wrecked and disjointed,
The storm; a toxic smile come for-I am back once more
Locked in melting iron jaws I bre
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 45 22
Literature
The Train
"Next in line please..." I whisper out loud, before the massive tumbling... dead empty crowd,
The vehicle still empty, the clock was ticking, I must encourage myself to think much much more quickly
"Alright..." I count to four... I take the deepest breath before reaching out once more,
"Forgot the line everyone, please come aboard. We're off to lands that simply none have yet to explore. An adventure amazing, exquisite, bounties, treasures to grab and maybe even life to restore"
I scan the platform in desperation, my mind's shards are not yet crystalline, my vision blurred... and there's nobody listening,
Imaginary friends I have in showers, fake lovers in endless powers, all kinds of sentient beings... and yet even they all cower
"Hello? This train leaves very soon and trust me... its more than just a fancy show. We'll leave this place, find where to go. And I promise-"
"I promise-"
"We'll stay together for as long as forever".
My mind's characters and real others I've found are not j
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 10 10
Literature
The Repair Shop
Spirit machines abound a frictionless path,
A slide external and within,
the shell moves to a new home,
but friction paralyzes this humble draft
A draft discarded-an opening shattered,
The brain replaced, longing yet scattered.
Spirit transferred but beckons unto,
Following the stitches plastered and scars screwed
Its home the shell? The staples too?
Something more the mechanic broke,
While fixing something born and physics stole,
Perhaps the spirit and nothing more?
Disassembling the mind and flesh,
the mechanic scours for the spirit's containment,
Perhaps the spirit moves along paths and spaces unseen,
But then it finds it, a simple slot bringing dissemination
The spirit hammered in and bolted in place,
Trapped in its new shell and panicking within,
Maybe all can be fixed, the body, the brain,
But after the mechanic was done it found...
it was the spirit that it could never perfectly fix,
nor ever in its original form now reclaim
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 8 5
Literature
Exercises in Introspection
Should it be lifting weights and cardio routines?
An exercise so mundane it fits not my purpose,
nor sprung from it the source of blame
Exercise and lift in the morning,
Searching depths of cities unknown,
Try to find the one; from stranger to savior,
Failure a hurtful exercise for everyone
Exercise and lift in the evening,
Lost in the concrete desert of questing,
Finding no one among streets devoid-
tightening my inner void,
An exercise this remains leaving solidarity... destroyed
A coach of illborn hateful prophecies?
A gym of persistent loneliness?
A martial art that we cannot train nor later possess...
should finding one's place in life really require fitness?
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 11 7
Literature
Best Friends Forever
There was a time when I performed lunch alone,
Physically or mentally separated,
My youth was a void best left underrated
This depthless pit they threw me in,
As any struggling animal would I climbed the slopes,
Only to find them digging the pit deeper as I go
It becomes hard to see far above,
As the abyss turns to all you know-
even as hands reach down to help
A storm ensues buzzing around me,
I rise above my hell only to sometimes fall,
Straight down the hole I now helped recall
**********
Then comes along a friend who makes you wish you were not dead,
You ditch your prison, you throw down some dirt,
You run away laughing, you build a new world!
Life spins round as you lose track of time,
You breathe in the air and bask in the light,
The world your own, your new life your home
********
But then your friend…
they’ve changed you realize one day,
Nothing is forever, you fear you will be forsaken,
Left behind, in this lonely life undertaken
Their final words strike a blow lea
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 8 6
Literature
A Cure
You shall no longer in a circle spin,
I have found... a cure!
Seek it within!
A cure my dear doctor,
I beg to inform you once again,
Such a thing does not exist, it is but pretend
Ah! You would bequeath me questions absurd,
A mind so unravelled it can no longer be heard!
Yet your lips produce sounds in plenty...
Abstain you said and so I did receed,
Ingest a quaint package you said, I did precisely,
Modify daily routine you did suggest, and so with changes I did proceed...
Hm, indeed you aren't wrong,
Though I think you ponder this mighty too strong,
Remember the reason, alas, why you spin so terribly long
And now inside I am to search aimlessly forever?
My brain is the problem, spinning in circles my symptom,
What you 'claim' as your aim is lost cursed treasure
Never have I proclaimed it's ease,
But by your own effort and strength will you find,
You have power over the circles spinning in your mind
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 4 3
Literature
Out of Time
"You stay back!"
The man on the bridge's edge did verbosely attack.
"I'm far back. I know I am but a stranger-"
Both men stood far back for neither wished anything greater.
"Yes! I heard you! You know nothing stranger! You know not the pain, nor the hopelessness. You cannot change my mind with WORDS."
Both men stood on the precipice of something neither could afford.
"You are right. I am but a stranger, I cannot sway your mind."
The man on the edge flinched. He took one step forward... eyes closed and blind.
"But you are missing the key ingredient... time."
The stranger took but a step closer in his wordly climb
"What?... There is no more time... This bridge... this fall... my end."
Both men locked eyes as emotions began to blend.
"You've told me your story, I begged of your reason. I'm here right now, let me be your healer..."
His eyes on the verge of tears; the stranger spread out a hand to the man nearer.
"Healer!? I stand on the edge of a fucking bridge and you wish to HELP!?"
His
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 7 3
Literature
Miss Blue
It was the blue that I saw first
Her hair all wild was what my eyes wore second
Blue eyes and blue hair, I had already melted by there
She loved to wear leather, jeans, and a dirty shirt the most
Tattoos to get lost in, boots to complete the fit
If I could see the future I wouldn't care unless I could freeze the present
She was a hurricane,
Of emotions and of rock,
She partied like a demon and danced like an angel,
Always her own person, architect of her rules
At times we just drank, drank and passed out,
At times we just drove, drove far away,
At times we just smoked, smoked everything away,
Most of the times we just blew it all away, leaving only us
I came upon the conclusion one day that her truck was driving the wrong way,
We spoke and then we argued, I could not keep up with her no more
She knew I was afraid and could no longer travel, it wasn't my place even while my heart unravelled
I was left on the road with naught but tears, as she drove away on the road that was her's
I hitc
:iconphnks:phnks
:iconphnks:phnks 6 3

Favourites

Depression by DestinyBlue Depression :icondestinyblue:DestinyBlue 38,857 4,015
Literature
The Sandman
He is coming through the dilapidated alley
slowly he’s coming to your window and watches the prey.
And if you look at his gaze you will fall in never land
for he will feed your eyes with his fearsome dreadful sand.
Shhhh here comes the Sandman.
The world around collapse and you try to escape
but the sound of darkness rumbles ever changing shape.
Opening your eyes is a lost battle and you know
because they are sewn shot for your nightmares to grow.
Shhhh here comes the Sandman.
Blur all around, mist in your eyes and mind
Trying to scream and cry but silence is all your find.
Your lips glued together you try to part them
But your touch fells through as all is mayhem
Shhhh here comes the Sandman.
Sounds are you are coming closer.
Your worse fears humming together.
You know what to do to avoid to face
the one true horror master piece you once embraced
Shhhh here comes the Sandman.
Digging your fingers in your eyes to gash them out,
afraid to see what has been growing from your doubts
:iconWynonaTodd:WynonaTodd
:iconwynonatodd:WynonaTodd 3 4
Realistic eye by Noyilu Realistic eye :iconnoyilu:Noyilu 8 6
Literature
Breath
I long for the darkened sky
Filled with so many vibrant points
Of glittering light that I take a
---breath---
Inhaling the dust of stars,
Glory and night permeating my lungs with serenity
Stilling the rampant disquiet of my
Ever present soul.
:iconLawlessness45:Lawlessness45
:iconlawlessness45:Lawlessness45 4 7
Literature
Bitter
the feel of your voice
in my ears against all sound
pleasingly silent
the descent of your lost lips
Your hand in mine was bitter
:iconLawlessness45:Lawlessness45
:iconlawlessness45:Lawlessness45 5 2
Literature
Diary of an introvert - Glass snatchers
I've been called many names in my life. Mostly bad ones. It's that much worse to get a good nickname with a name like Horrible. I'm not going to translate the nicknames, since that would be way too difficult, but let's just say that they were insults about 80% of the time.
However, there were two nicknames that I actually liked, even though they were insults. Their closest translations would be "specky" and "four-eyes".
Yup, it was because of my glasses.
I've been wearing glasses since kindergarten and back then, even those who would become "fellow four-eyes" in the future, were making fun of me. I was the weird kid that suddenly wore something strange on his face. Also, the fact that I used to wear round Lennon glasses didn't help, since I looked a bit like a nerdy version of young Harry Potter.
My family though had a different reaction. Especially my cousin and little step-brother.
When my brother was very little, he actually wanted to get as close to me as possible, only to snatch t
:iconHorribleWriter:HorribleWriter
:iconhorriblewriter:HorribleWriter 4 5
Literature
June Two
It started out like any other. I got up around 7am, maybe 8, on a Saturday, and asked myself, “Daniel, what were you thinking?”
I got up. I brushed my teeth, put on my work shirt, bright red with that golden arch emblazoned on its crest, my pants, my belt, my socks, my name tag, my boots.
I left with my comforting grey hoodie over the top, apron and cap in hand, and called out to my ride, my chauffeur, my father, “hey, hurry up!”
I don’t have a clue where that hoodie is nowadays.
It was a short ride, with small conversation about how the day would be and other curious things, and as he parked and I left for the restaurant, from me a “see you at 12!”
Walk inside, down the line, an enthusiastic “hi” to the manager I particularly like, another for a cheery veteran, and a greeting to the other one walking around. Walk to the locker room, take off my hoodie and put it down onto the shelf. Struggle to tie my apron; waste time and talk to
:iconBoyoWords:BoyoWords
:iconboyowords:BoyoWords 3 1
depression comix #401 by depressioncomix depression comix #401 :icondepressioncomix:depressioncomix 111 20 The Unconscious Apropos by batjorge The Unconscious Apropos :iconbatjorge:batjorge 71 28
Literature
Panem et circenses
No bread,
there no bread
anywhere
anymore;
besides,
these days
everyone
gets filled with
beer
and
the clowns
on cable and radio
chasing down
whatever size of ball
politicians
can come up with.
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina 3 8
Literature
Distant Lights
Persist me
Each and every
Right and right by somewhere else
If to have me
Sampling brackets
Talked their way up in tense
I would signal
Light and likely
First to forward and back
So you find them
Hanging almost
At night sky’s expense
Far cabins
Loose baggage
And a metal thing left
Like a rattle
For the toxin
When it’s flipped on for rest
Built tomorrow
Fast and final
But I’m not quite there yet
So I signal
Hoping some way
That the light will reflect
One or more of
Know and known of
Long distinctions in the reach
May be mine left
Dangling slowly
As the time takes its breath
If perchance that
In the angle
Our eyes might connect
I will hope through
All the distance
You are brighter for it
:iconMonocephalized:Monocephalized
:iconmonocephalized:Monocephalized 4 2
Not Your Alice WIP by EnysGuerrero Not Your Alice WIP :iconenysguerrero:EnysGuerrero 393 11
Literature
They say it stops hurting when you break...
Still in pain...still not broken
No pain now...Am I broken?
:iconLady-Pilot:Lady-Pilot
:iconlady-pilot:Lady-Pilot 4 4
Literature
Errors...
Error: Social interaction module not found
:iconLady-Pilot:Lady-Pilot
:iconlady-pilot:Lady-Pilot 9 14
Literature
Are We Ready For Human-Level A.I.

Human level AI is just around the corner according to Ray Kurzweil, AI author and founder of the futurist organisation the Singularity University. In fact, he thinks we’ll have human-level AI by 2029, just over 11 years away.

There is no doubt AI offers massive pros in terms of individualised solutions to problems for each person on the planet by potentially designing cancer cures, reducing cognitive decline and bridging genetic deficits. There is the potential for AI cyborgs and humanoids who could replace the need for a companion and in turn, reduce loneliness, or they could accommodate deviant sexual needs, reducing the risk of abuse to people.
The technology itself is neutral but society in our AI future will be both utopian and dystopian. Yes, the potential to lower human suffering is high but what does that actually mean for us, the human race?
Elon Musk believes AI could be our “biggest existential th
:iconFullSpectrumRogue:FullSpectrumRogue
:iconfullspectrumrogue:FullSpectrumRogue 2 1
Literature
The Mirror
The mirror arrived a few days ago - a wedding present for Mommy and Daddy, I REMEMBERED thinking. It had pretty edges that looked like gold, but Mommy said that it was something else - an alloy of something, a complicated chemical that I've FORGOTTEN the name of. The top of the mirror had three lion heads, all roaring at you when you looked in it. It made Daddy very happy, he was always joking about how he couldn't afford to buy Mommy a present for her birthday, and now someone had bought one for him. He used to pretend he had made it himself in the shed, out of the gold mine he'd dug in my sandpit and the blast furnace he'd turned the cooker into. Mommy would always laugh and call him silly. I miss those times, when everyone was happy. My big brother, Dan, would play his guitar in the front room and Daddy would sing along. I didn't like some of the songs, they were too shouty and loud. But sometimes, Dan would bring his girlfriend, Jessica, home, and she would bring her bass. A bass i
:iconGreenBlade16:GreenBlade16
:icongreenblade16:GreenBlade16 34 25

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phnks

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
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 ;)

Feel free to stay awhile and read my stuff, leave a comment if you feel like it, I'll always reply. Either way, just make sure to have a great day :)

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:iconlady-pilot:
Lady-Pilot Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2018
Thanks for favouriting my work! Have a great day!
Reply
:iconwynonatodd:
WynonaTodd Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2018  New Deviant Professional Writer
Thank you for adding my poem to your collection.
I really appreciate it. :)
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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Jun 30, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome :)
Reply
:iconoviedomedina:
oviedomedina Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2018
Thank you very much for the favorite and the comment!
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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Jun 30, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
No problem :)
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:icon3wyl:
3wyl Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello! :wave:

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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
I'll definitely make sure to take a look. The concept sounded great, and I love comments and commenting... just got to find the time for it since I'm not on DA 24/7 :) Thank you!
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:icon3wyl:
3wyl Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
No worries, and thank you!
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:iconoviedomedina:
oviedomedina Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2018
Thank you very much for the favorites and the comment!
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:iconphnks:
phnks Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Anytime
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