Geshien's Poetry...

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cold and starving to feed this thirst. the cracks dry out and die.

inside squirms a parasite that devours the soul. bit by bit. piece by piece.

digging in deep. finding home and splintering apart, taking health and hope.

there isn't a reason for compassion. the engine burns before it bleeds.

the ideals of destruction are pulsating. it becomes invigorated in hate.

the open planes that cry are free and vulnerable. disgusting.

the metal and muscles drive and grind. appropriately an Armageddon.

the desire is there, the will is in flames. this overwhelming hatred is alive with this twisted passion.

a thirst to be quenched. a void to be filled. a purpose to be made. to punish and damage.

the structure fails miserably against the pressure and chaos that is this momentum.


to dance so freely to the terrible sound that rips and forces itself into the air.

machinery breathes into the night. the breath heaves against the black.

tense as the electricity scatters and pulses.

these eyes burn and pierce, as they were designed to do. this feeling is real, it means for things that bring forth horror.

dead, stagnant, bitter, and above all without purpose.

the crash, the crush, the scorching. its real, and its here.

the need and desire within bleeds out. deserving no less than all.

a pause for collection soaks up the pressure, and the machine ticks.

the taught strings that bind beg to f*ck.

waiting, breaking, descending.


and it snaps

the killer free.

no desire to hesitate or feel anything but this urge.

the need to feel the crush and sputter under this power is the controlling force

in a stand still comes forth all inhibitions released. utter destruction to its most primitive place.

the monster that crashes through to take its pleasure in a deafening impact.

concrete to shatter. blood to spill. life to destroy. its here.

the drive runs and leaves the past barren.

the grinding of metal and flesh scream out and rip the murky calm.

the tribal thrashing swallows up the gravity. disintegrates the essence.

it ravages and breaks down all barriers to find you.

destroys all because i desires such things.

and the train runs and burns out of the void and into nothingness to make something real.

with bloody hands, with bloody teeth, with bloody eyes, it goes.

screaming to the ends of the earth. from one precipice to the next.


pay no mind to the blood that flows. it intends to do such.

it complements your features, i think.

there's a dead calm isn't there? besides a slight drone.

you'll have noticed it soon enough. its the lack of rhythm and an absence of movement within.

that's when you know. when it stops.

the pressure subsides after such a crescendo, doesn't it?

i'm asking you, babe. i feel it. don't you?

tell me that you feel it too. the dull dark dancing pleasure of this song that's playing. just for us.

like; bang, drift, die, float, and breathe. id like to think in that order. cant help but giggle about the whole damned thing.

and were in this together. cant exactly go back.

its okay. you can smile that bloody smile without eyes now.

such an explosion of shit, i find it to be the most beautiful design. a primal art.

it pains itself to be noticed. to shine and burn and rape itself into the walls. and i can smell it. i can smell it, babe.

the smoke, metal, and flesh. copperish with a hint of happiness.

ironic. the sense of vibrancy that was lacking in the beating and being, is so easily discovered here and now.

grin to this violence.

i'm afraid i don't know where i am anymore. how delightfully wonderful. it makes me smile pretty.

i sincerely apologize, my mind is a scattered, ravaged, mess, racing like a heart attack against an industrial hum.

discover the comfort. its in abundance now. find it here with me. with us.

lost and free. i can feel the f*ck and the laughter.

contagious. i shouldn't be so jovial. no. i suppose i need to be solemn. laughter.

but, you can taste it, cant you?

like an emotion without a word.

i can feel the cavity, deep and cold. meat that paints pictures.

grab a smoke. to lips, light, burn, puff. sigh.


its kinda dark in here. dim lit sanctuary. feels so good.

what now, babe?

This and Us

it is a thing that seeps. it swims it's way through the droning depths of madness. it finds me frail and vulnerable. tissue to rip.

i press and open, falling within. a sudden hole bleeds. all too familiar this story.

the fear halos my mind and saturates my being. soaking in. an emptiness in that which is the room.

words rip and ravage with soft eyes and red lips. silky sulfur.

innocence and vile vulgar viscosity grants and plays a serenade to these granite ears that crumble and decay.

the other cretin, smug and sultry, is and idiot wiser than i. a footnote of grandeur he is. i want him dead. he is my good company.

i can bring myself to it and fail, again.

given a nothingness as a substitute as a means to live to be condescending to you makes the world drift from a freeze and descend into a pit.

this body, head, and heart would much like to kill you, for destroying all of it's void existence and having me still love you.

dead together. romantic isn't it?

the bafflement that plagues, surrounds the ideal of your wanting. your disease, my failure.

it seeded itself, embedded itself within a place still warm and chaotic. stale and stagnant.

how i could sing this song, voice shattered and poisoned with fragility. kisses seem like ideas.

sense of retribution and a loathing of intense passion finds a home.

this sword becomes fragmented and yet is still usable. blades that never dull.

the world that spins around us watches with intent and dismay. i can hardly notice.

broken. broken. i love you and i am so ****ing broken.

a disposition. dead. you can't understand or fathom, the how's, the why's, and the now.

beg of you, search not my eyes, and never my heart. it faded in immolation.

if you ask if void has being i can answer.

thumb up keep up the good work

Nice, very intense, powerful stuff.

Originally posted by BruceSkywalker
thumb up keep up the good work

Originally posted by TheMercurial
Nice, very intense, powerful stuff.

Thank you.

These are pieces that are a few years old. I've been thinking about writing some more. Get some of my creativity out.

Ya Krunk'd Floo

Originally posted by Ya Krunk'd Floo


Ya Krunk'd Floo

Originally posted by Ya Krunk'd Floo

Stop what?


I sit here and I take notice that things are different and that many days have been.

The pace is subtle, peculiar and altogether off beat.

I'll protest that I don't notice the flux.

I'm a liar.

The last sound I remember still lacks the tune to dance for. No longer do the hairs electrify and stand erect.

The flavor is lost but, not forgotten.

Something has gone amiss.

And with building strain and collapsing will, I accept the flood.

Questions bother and answers are not sought.

Why do I do this?

Thoughts scatter and my memories become dissolute.

These walls are not quite familiar. Still, I know this place.

Words fail and feelings mix. I haven't the vocabulary for this sensation.

The muscles twitch and the synapse dance a confusing racket.

I'm uncomfortable.

I'm what's changing and the world has sunk.

Knowing my follies are all I can center my peace upon.

I am not what I could be as the hand skips.

I can recognize the follies and not care enough, so I continue.

I allow the bitterness and the irritation which follows, that comes forth from minds with a singular distinction, to preoccupy my thoughts.

Why do I allow it?

They do not matter and yet, here they are.

I begin to question my motives. I believe I feed off of it.

Fueled by bitterness. Accepting of defeat. A ****ing disaster.

I am disgusted in knowing, but not being able to grow.

I've become stagnant.

Am I confounded to only comprehend the ideals but not the concepts?

My frustrations become me and I struggle to maintain sanity.

Drawing my breath and holding still, I remember.

I remember.

The melody, the joy, the color.

I don't ask for anything.

No gifts.

No acknowledgments.

No company.

I have enough.

There are things I've lost and it brings me to tears.

I wonder how this happened to be.

However, such things I need not bother to ask. For no soul but my own could reply with words, residual.

And as I stand defiant to myself. I realize and understand my failures.

Reflecting on those turns, the moments that hang on the walls of my memories remained, I trace the whys and how's.

And altogether, I know who did this to me.

And with perseverance fueled by disgust, I convince myself that overcoming the obstacles ahead are absolute.

I cannot tell if I'm in denial. If I am, I couldn't say where it began and where it ended.

I pray the laws that I've maintained will suffice and serve well to my ends.

Perhaps I can face it. Credit to her.

My only foundation lies with her.

My beacon. The only warmth I have.

But, even the flame that we share is not enough for the fathoms I've created.

Still, I find comfort in her presence.

And with that comfort, I may be able to push a little harder.

To set forth motion to plans yet laid.

In seeking closure to the constant flow, I dare to find my rhythm. To find my place.

But... there are no certainties. I don't know what happens next.

In gathering my thoughts, I barely know what to think.

I've just taken notice.

jinXed by JaNx
I feel like i'm being bombarded when i read your poetry. I don't know whether to worry about my chest bursting or my eyeballs falling out of my head. I enjoy "this and us" a great deal for some reason. That one seemed very deep. Rock on, partner, keep them coming.


Originally posted by jinXed by JaNx
I feel like i'm being bombarded when i read your poetry. I don't know whether to worry about my chest bursting or my eyeballs falling out of my head. I enjoy "this and us" a great deal for some reason. That one seemed very deep. Rock on, partner, keep them coming.


laughing out loud

When I write, I write whatever comes to me. I know it can be sporadic, which is the ironic thing because it's my flow.

Fragmented thoughts on a overall theme I suppose.

Thank you for the kind words.

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