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About Literature / Hobbyist phnksMale/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Months
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No Man's Charity Land
War against the war to end all wars,
Money scatters the trenches in a wealth of bullets,
But I see no dead... with greater introspect I see no alive,
But the guns keep firing besides
I have held the gun you see,
I stood my ground and fought on my knees,
In terror I fired; but I could never quench any of my desires
and so I smashed my gun and all belief with it was withdrawn
Ah, but you see my biggest scar was my friend’s faces,
Stacey and Alex... they turned on me,
They fired on through smoke and tears,
Ss I struggled with indecisive bellowing fears
I see the struggle; my eyes are clear,
How it haunts all but my wary daydreams,
I wish to cherish a world where these things are bereft,
Instead I own an island of fame likeable to UNICEF
See how it is but another land we all seek?
One full of a bizzare form of Amnesty,
The Plan was swung before my eyes as luring guilt
and We all found in the end that nothing was ever built,
So my quest was formed, one which was once again reborn,
:iconphnks:phnks 8 3
A luminous day of coloured hue,
A verb to do as most may,
Should it be painted red or new?
Tis true, I do, as the lovebirds say,
Have a very happy Valentine's Day
:iconphnks:phnks 4 0
Mind, Body, or Spirit
"You're not okay Adam!"
The wound breached through him,
"... I'm fine... I can keep going..."
His eyes they shriveled and began to dim,
"Then get up! Come on!"
It shattered what little remained,
"I see something! It’s them... move"
He struggled leaving his life bloodstained,
"They're gone Adam, there's nobody there! Come, on the count of three, we're going to try again."
She held onto him lamenting his pain,
"1... 2... 3..."
She held his hand as he screamed her name,
"Argh... okay. We can do this. Again... come on"
Petrified in place the color slowly drained from his skin,
"Eve... listen... go..."
The color left this world as she placed her hands on him,
"No! AGAIN! We're going to make it! Just... just one more time"
His world grew cold as he shed his shield against the plenty,
"Leave me... Get out of here, before they come"
Her world grew empty as she gazed down on him with ravaged energy,
"I'll save you Adam... let me help you"
Her tears could not repaint the world,
:iconphnks:phnks 8 4
Serial killer motives lie in parallel beside billionaire visions,
Terrifying governments administer beliefs equidistant from the grand artists of all ages,
Horrid man-beasts defile our lives while daily engineers build up against our demise
Struggling against such temptation is trivial,
Maintaining momentum of a positive sort is anything but menial,
Lying in freezing emotional disturbance is never satiating,
And what little remains lies in stasis no longer creating
:iconphnks:phnks 7 0
Its abrasive and bleak you see,
Oscillating and expelling its infamy,
My flesh longs to be free
If pain cast a shadow I would be its sun,
When the sun sleeps the moon brings me my fun,
The creeping dread escapes as I rip off my face,
The night elapses as I put another in its place
Oh! Bastion of sun I worship thee!
I greet you with unchained body,
I greet you with my daily fire,
Oh, stalwart guardian I name thee Helios!
And with your sight please unfreeze me
But again with night it all comes melting off,
My face... you leave me dying... frozen in place; lying in a trough,
For in the dark of night I begin my summoning,
Oh, fortress of light, will you one day no longer return?
Or maybe I'm the one destined to forever burn
:iconphnks:phnks 6 0
Mature content
The Prologue :iconphnks:phnks 1 2
Two Watches
Time always elapses at its own pace,
Unfortunately before I give my blessing,
It dissipates never again concerning itself with visitation to the same place
Memory being but a rogue painting during specific watch hand positions,
I cannot remain but panicked for the present's future image,
But then the moment elapses as prior; carrying me with it none the wiser
I wear two watches on one wrist as bizarre as that may be,
Not for fashion nor to provide a predisposition for others,
Memorabilia might be what it is strictly named
I wear two watches not just for the memories that they contain,
For I've just explained how memories are difficult to retain,
I wear them to remember to remember better presents in the future exist,
And just like the past,
They will one day be sorely missed
:iconphnks:phnks 7 5
Each morning we awake building and destroying,
Reproducing and killing,
Opening and closing,
As we bow before our programming
I leave to doubt these fates I now call,
Spawning and dying sound like a horrible life,
And so it is that I reject all,
And with this rebellion I shall fight on
With my rebellion I fight on,
Is creating before the terror of destruction so fraught?
I cannot affirm it is an easy path,
But with hope denied I shall fight until death
No eagles will swoop from above and save us,
No deus ex machina to apprehend us,
It is naught but our will that can save us,
We were built for creation,
Even if death wishes to stop us
:iconphnks:phnks 7 3
Beautiful People
I watched her walk, heels strutting down the street,
With a swish of finesse and shower of glitter,
I watched her pass by and her smile grew as mine withered,
The man with her cackled and squacked,
I bowed my body to them as they brushed me past,
Stumbling and slipping she fell to her knees,
A swift cry and a cackle from me,
Unfortunately, there was that pole waiting in the dirt,
It pierced through her orbicularis oculi amidst screams and blood
Her screeches swam past the flowing bloody hole in her face
Her man rushed to help only to slip on her sklick fluids, he fell to one side, Shattering his frontalis rolling over onto his bursting temporalis,
Fluids of all kinds now dripped from his skull, polluting the soil with yellow and red colors of mirth
I watched her stand up, I was frozen; locked in comprehension,
As she stumbled in blind confusion, her body and soul crumpled in unison,
It was the heels she still wore, a last remnant of beauty, that flattened her Out and tore off her nasal
:iconphnks:phnks 4 4
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 its 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 5 6
You Are a Bridgeburner
I've forgotten to remember more,
Lost in my mind times infallible,
I recount myself but lose practicality,
It said look up my friend; face reality
Suspended numbness,
A kind of perpetual quiescence,
Life of quantum proportions,
finds basis in classical notions
Fear not the visuals or hidden sounds,
The time to escape is optimal now,
Not yesterday nor tomorrow,
Look up and focus suspense for the morrow
Be not blinded by your mind's wraiths,
They offer no grasp of a solid state,
Boldly step where ghosts wander,
Look up and stare,
but forever beware this world's wonder
:iconphnks:phnks 6 9
A Ghost's Misgivings
Do not mourn me,
For death is my new abode; a palace wrought from the claws of my dead hands
There should be no tears shed on my behalf,
I am now dead lying in a cold cold earthly bath
Do not seek me,
You will never find me for I am buried and closed; a thousand feet live above me
I am dead did you not hear?
There is no return to this land of occasional cheer
Do not die with me,
I know the pain you feel but it is something I cannot share,
grieve not for my life as I feel but emptiness,
in the void there is absolute blackness
Do not envision my presence,
The dust I am but coats the world in a grim sheen,
There is naught much left of my body to recall,
My body is ashen to be worn by time as a shawl
But will you remember me?
not me, but of me,
yet I will never know nor feel this emotion,
I’ll be long dead and lost to all methods of creation
but... will you remember me?
:iconphnks:phnks 5 0
A Sea Shanty
The rain it cascades without mercy, soothing the ground upon which I'm kneeling,
Darkness descends in a muffled rush burying that eidetic reeling,
The crippling wind blazes, burning my wards, leaving my skin peeling,
Falling snow rages silently fueling that mauldin feeling,
My thoughts wither glorifically as they betray all that I'm seeing
:iconphnks:phnks 5 3
Under Construction
There lay a stone bench with surface wet from snow,
An empty black stench submerged its quiet glow,
Its rough skin grinds against my bones,
Lavish contours bind me between its cemented stones,
It silently creeps to me, though, limps I cannot recall,
My carcass seeps through its cracks as I become its thrall,
I dissolve like acid rain melting through its cold bleakness,
Rotting to a fossil, I maim myself beyond mere old age,
I close my crusted eyes as stone births from them,
Liquid rock dripping onto the lifeless bench as it drifts away
:iconphnks:phnks 3 0
The Other Side
A blackened view covers my sky, a horrid cloud blankets my eye
I awake to see a variety of covers, only to learn how to hide it from others
I drift again behind cold bars, laughing faces renew my scars
They stop right there, no more! I'm scared... I get the feeling they never cared
The beasts around me grow confused, it is then I realize I am the refused
I banish again this bizarre old dream, only to find myself once again in a scream
It sucks me back into its holy maw, no memory at all of what I once saw
Again I do scream, I cannot recall breaking this scheme
I awaken uptight with a dagger bursting through my right,
splattering the ground with a hollow light,
I rip it out only to find it gone, its horror I slowly don
The bright light of the sun pierces through, unable to move my mind's deathly crew
One's heart does bleed, when one realizes that this is just a seed, of a greater more horrible deed
:iconphnks:phnks 6 7
It all blended together, a swirling grotesque mass of senses. The ground blurred before him in endless spirals of cold red mud while the very air seemed to shake in agony. He
was numb, there was nothing for his skin to feel but the old nostalgia of warm. The sky cast an eerie glow upon the battlefield as dawn approached over the horizon, what
remained of the snow reflecting its orange rays. The snow and ice had melted for the most part, a logical result from the impact of explosive fire, and it created bizarre
intricate rivers of blood as the fluid made its way down the hill bypassing ancient rock formations. They looked like blood vessels, like the kind he saw the surgeon poking
at yesterday evening. The blood vessels were in pain, he could recall their screaming, just like these on the hill. They screamed too. Their screams were the only thing which
modified the monotone pulsing of air as explosions continued to bring down the clouds themselves.
The boy awoke. There were not many sol
:iconphnks:phnks 4 0


Stick in the mud. by Darkhorseman81 Stick in the mud. :icondarkhorseman81:Darkhorseman81 115 19
so I wrote a letter to the person who molested me
So, I know what happened when I was younger, as do you.
You... molested me. And it took me 10 years to finally admit it to myself. You like causing emotional stress to young people, so that automatically makes you the loser, and me the winner because you are one of the things in life that made me who I am today.
It takes pain to know pain; it takes having pain to become compassionate. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be writing this letter to show others that there is another way, a way to live, a way to own the pain one had been given.
I don't know why you did what you did to begin with, and your reason for it doesn't concern me anymore. All I know is that I finally stopped blaming myself, stopped acting like I somehow deserved it, and stopped lying to myself out of shame and disbelief. Why should I be ashamed of what you did?
I didn't do anything wrong; it was you who touched me. If there is anyone who is innocent, and not "dirty," it's me.
So if anyone had been sexually abused
:iconknowhopeinme:knowhopeinme 16 31
for cheyenne
Lit for us was the way to go
the path had glistened by the nighttime flow
nine at night and led by the moonbeam
we were fifteen setting foot on that stream
my visionary is the stars
holding together the pieces, the memoirs
I'll ask the man on the moon
a question, hope he gets back to me soon
our own way of life was born
summer night walks by which we'd sworn,
flip flops we wore collected pebbles for our feet
relayed to us the summertime greet.
I gaze upon the stars as I wonder where you are
very peaceful, slightly foggy as the moon shines on.
in the twilight, in the village, with the trees and few passing cars
neighbors are swimming and playing with the ducks, and the water flows with the beat of my heart
you provided me warmth and light, to put together a maple tree
seeds grew out from us, spiriling until reaching clouds
like a rusty old doorknob you'll never replace, a germinating memory
the 2 of us against the world, seated in the sky and safe and sound
your voice still resonate
:iconknowhopeinme:knowhopeinme 3 3
My bullying story/ letter to bullies from my past
Finally, after several years, I decided to stand up to my bullies.
Thanks ahead of time to anyone who reads this to the end. (It's a bit depressing, but gets good at the end.)
The majority of these are from middle school.
I was a pretty weird kid, You know, the kid that everyone liked picking on.
Since I'm the weird one, the different one, you chose me to be your victim. You chose the defenseless, confused one, just like you all do. That's what you like, you like walking all over and spitting on the ones you know won't do anything about it.
Yeah, it made you feel good, didn't it? If feels good to make someone feel like complete crap. It feels good to make them cry. You think you're better than me? You think you can toss my books around, and laugh as I miserably walk in front of the laughing class to pick them up, and say you were kidding? You think it's all fun and games. You think you can (literally) push me around and tell me to "get out of here" just because I'm weak, frail, and dif
:iconknowhopeinme:knowhopeinme 48 64
Nero takes a selfie while Rome burns
It is not thanks
to a dastardly plot
by your typical
whose dark goatee
about how everyone considers him mad
how all the skyscrapers will be
 flayed all the way to their bars
all the seas become deserts
and the finest minds
of my generation
are driven
up the roofttop of the tallest ower
and down their wariness and tiredness
in a road no teenager who has never
sent a resume has ever experienced
It is not thanks
to the ophidian selfassurance
you rant on your computers about
that you see everyday
on the television news
on the opinion articles of the newspapers
of the boiling chatrooms
you ought to ask
the so callled
finest minds of our generation:
those who saw their best decades of their lives
wither away
as their resumes grew musty and old
because all the others have fled to other countries
thanks to the money of their parents
while the elders
got high
off their soapoperas
get high on the gallops
of the indignation
about the handling of matters in this century
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina 7 9
Discombulation on dead leaves
Grab a leaf,
wash a leaf, rub a leaf,
repeat a leaf,
understand the leaf
think on nothing but the leaf
the leaf,
a recipe for the shrivelling
corpse to be
of a progressively
oldening body
of an uncle
think not
of the falling reports
those reports that fall
your aunt can´t even go
and shit by herself
without falling
my ears drop the conversation
like the leaves falling into the sink
grab a leaf
rinse it
against the water
ignore the pulsing stab
blooming outwards
from your head
grab a leaf
not that one
grab the leaf that fell again
grab the conversation again
try to drop the headache
rinse the leaf
rinse the poem
after all
nobody understands poems
as dark as dirty leaves
in dire need of a washing
dirty leaves are useless
for cancer patients
dirty poems
are useless
for absent readers
and so
rinse the keyboard
rinse the ekeyboard
kinse the reyboard
rinse the keyboard
until the words
of the conversation
are clear
once again
the darke
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina 5 4
Mature content
Twisted :icondcheng886:dcheng886 15 10
A shower
The air grows cold
Dark clouds gathering together
And people look up 
as drops of water hit their noses
Everyone scatter everywhere
Like ants to a torrent
For shelter or dry spots
To avoid getting soaked to the bones
Watching from inside as rain hit the window
Trailing down in thick streaks
Pitter patter, plip plop
Watching as deep puddles form here and there
But soon the shower passes
With only the smell of rain
And a damp atmosphere 
To show for a rainfall
:icondcheng886:dcheng886 20 7
Anna by Cainmak Anna :iconcainmak:Cainmak 9 4
Posit our invasive key
Flushed with idle ambleness
Next to wide and left agape
The retinue of tender choice
Cancelled vasts responses thought
To waken cautious capitals
Masked with middle corrections
Prokaryotes by other clans
Hastened make and scalloped wedge
Between two outcomes baited
Appraised extractive cording
Calibrated strangulation
:iconmonocephalized:Monocephalized 9 0
Milk of magic feed I take
Boil tunnels fences plaque
And jump the project loyally
Awaiting penman’s ache
Draft destructive tempt its leap
Between each pip left pouring
Described a buffet graph with sate
Enumerate in reap
Fog of fanged mill I grind
Shafted grudges abscess rind
And in my likeness finally
Languages can fly
:iconmonocephalized:Monocephalized 7 2
Random idea
Unsafe at any faster
:iconlady-pilot:Lady-Pilot 2 3
Diary of an introvert - everything for a reason
I'm going to be completely honest with you. I don't like looking back into the past. Past hold both good and bad and usually, those things tend to go hand in hand. Sometimes it's very hard to separate positive and negative memories so we rather don't look back at all. This is my case. One of the reasons I started writing this diary was that I'd have a motivation to look back and go through some of my memories. Problem is that the best memories reside in the perfect line between good and bad and one tiny negative thought from my overthinking brain can pull out some of the bad stuff. That's why I try to look for stories within memories that don't make me depressed anymore. Considering how much time I spent thinking about what to write for the next chapter, there aren't many of them.
Last night I went really deep into my thoughts and tried to pull out some interesting and relatable stories from my childhood, but going through all that was like swimming in a minefield. Kids can be cruel an
:iconhorriblewriter:HorribleWriter 3 12
Diary of an introvert - careful what you wish for
Have you ever had a wish that came true but you regretted it just moments later? That's pretty much what happened to me a few days ago.
I always wanted to win the English Olympics at our school. This year was my last chance, and I thought that my writing might have improved my overall English skills. I was right. Out of the entire school, I ended up in the first place, with my classmate right behind me on the second. I was thrilled. Finally, my dream came true. That was until the teacher said that those who ended first and second have to attend the next round. The regional round. That was frightening. There is a difference between speaking English in front of a kind and friendly teacher you've known for nearly four years and speaking in front of complete strangers at a place you don't even know. Despite my fears, I accepted the challenge. Big mistake.
I was curious how good I am, out of all those students from all those schools in my region. Most of the other contestants were from gram
:iconhorriblewriter:HorribleWriter 4 3
LOV THE CRONCH by Hydrothrax LOV THE CRONCH :iconhydrothrax:Hydrothrax 146 15 depression comix #383 by depressioncomix depression comix #383 :icondepressioncomix:depressioncomix 245 28



phnks's Profile Picture

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Just your average computer programmer amateur poet, except I call myself Phnks instead of Phoenix and may or may not have a number of unsavory mental health issues.

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 good day :)

Journal History


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Lady-Pilot Featured By Owner 6 days ago
Thanks for watching me!
phnks Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
No problem, I liked some of your stuff so naturally now I'm curious what else you might produce :)
Lady-Pilot Featured By Owner 4 days ago
will try to do something, but between flu and after exams burnout...
phnks Featured By Owner 3 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Sorry, kinda feel bad now like I'm putting you under a lot of pressure... take a break, take your time, and most importantly stay healthy :)
HorribleWriter Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2018  New Deviant Hobbyist Writer
Thanks a lot for the watch, I really appreciate it. ;)
phnks Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
No problem, you have some pretty interesting stuff with the one word themed pieces, excited to see what you have next. 
Lady-Pilot Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2018
Thank you for favouriting my work!
Have a great day!
phnks Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
No problemo, I always fav good work. 
Servine000 Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2018  Professional Writer
Thanks again bud; have a great time here 
phnks Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
No problem, thanks for all the favs over the past few months. 
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