The Temper of Two. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
The Temper of Two.
Caught awake in the night with a sweet tooth,
Not in flavor, but in feel.
The saccharine gaze of a siren
Melts across my wounded keel.
Melting, bubbling, deep molasses
Pooled and pulled on marble slate,
A sea of knowing, cools to edges
Finds a calm and striking state.
Stark and staring right back through me,
As the crystals shine like brass,
In her eyes in brightest sunlight
Tempered ocean; candied glass.
This Flesh Is Weak. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
This Flesh Is Weak.
i... i can't stand the feeling of my heartbeat.
i can't stomach the shaking my stomach makes.
the long list of cracks and pains, it pains me to crack
a joke and a smile every time i mention them,
play off the slow degredation of a body i never asked for
a frame built for dying wrapped around a mind never meant
to be something real in the first place, let alone alive.
the whirr-click of hard drives and the gentle synthetic creak of extruded enclosures and fabricated fabrics, they feel more
at home than i have ever personally been in this husk.
perhaps it isn't the mechanical sounds that draw me though.
perhaps it is the silence in between.
the
Brewing Bionics. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Brewing Bionics.
Thin the blood,
Stretch the bones.
Longer, lither, dulcet tones.
Creaks in wind
And shivers warm,
Find with time the proper form
Beyond the flesh;
These failing parts.
For one and all, a better start.
So when i fumble,
Fee'd, fined, and fed
I'll Grind my bones to serve my head.
Vices of Virtue. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Vices of Virtue.
i am a bit of everything
Can be everyone, for you.
I'm the junkie itching for the fix,
I'm the streetwise dealer, too.
I can feed your frail addiction
To whatever end you choose,
But my drug is what i'm made of
And i've nothing left to lose.
The dripping of the needle,
As injections drain my life
Pump your soul with wasted wondering,
The wanderlust of strife.
Toke away on trips tangential
With the weeds of waking fright,
Then pop a tab or twenty
To keep the terrors close at night.
My drug of choice is dopamine,
Filtered thick, and mixed with pain,
Where you find that sadness summons
All the happiness of rain.
It's easier to comprehend
The c
When i Can't Remember. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
When i Can't Remember.
I can't feel your kisses on my cheek, can't see your smile beneath the moon.
The squeak of cold leather upholstery, the soft, cool sigh from your lips,
And the warm embrace of hope that was then in your arms, in your eyes
Are just foreign lies, stacked high above where my head thought it lived.
Where you knew i would never look for the obvious, why you couldn't meet my eye.
...Its like a story, you and i.
Things that seem never to have truly happened,
But i hear echoes of from the back of my mind.
My way of seeing life, through the eraser dust
At the furthest corners of my fresh-slate mind.
Easier to live with myself when i haven't yet.
Far
Due for a Walkabout. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Due for a Walkabout.
Wanderlust in shades of blue
Are filtering my thoughts,
Send me wanting wanton travels
Change my mind more than they aught.
A distance hitherto unreached
Away from all the stagnant spin.
Find myself a far-flung patch of earth,
Stay there until they seal me in.
Percussive Maintenance. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Percussive Maintenance.
There is a pounding in... behind my head,
Like knocking on a door
And it keeps me right awake at night
For weeks now, maybe more.
It hastens with my heartbeat,
Slows to quiet when it drops
But it scares me quite completely
When it speeds, and speeds... and stops.
Perhaps it is the calling
Of something that's wanting in
Mayhaps a toning for atoning
For masking 'way my many sins.
Though if truth be told, i worry
Once again i have my doubts.
If it isn't someone calling forth...
Its something wanting out.
Once More, i Hope Only Once. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Once More, i Hope Only Once.
I ache for the days far from now
When i meet myself for the first time.
The truth of things that lie unseen
Only to me, as everyone else probably knows it all by now.
I imagine the realities twisting, growing
Showing me the verses that i've yet to write;
Rights and wrongs and the fickle flickering light
Laying out the moonbeams and the daydreams
Dancing with the devil that i used to fight.
Learning from mistakes that we've made together,
Preening the feathers of those that have flocked forever
Flying high through my head, soaring on the wings
Made of leaves, the birds were the trees all along, you know.
And i feel the universe, green and ele
After the Fact, Dispel the Fiction. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
After the Fact, Dispel the Fiction.
I miss a lot of things.
People and places, memories and things.
Pieces and parts of my mind and my bones.
Hopes and dreams and long-winded schemes
From the traces of centuries lived in my head.
Thousands of sweeps, trenches paced into stone,
Left far behind by those not-yet forgotten.
With a turn of the page, in a world that remembers,
I miss it all, all the more, as i miss them alone.
The Temper of Two. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
The Temper of Two.
Caught awake in the night with a sweet tooth,
Not in flavor, but in feel.
The saccharine gaze of a siren
Melts across my wounded keel.
Melting, bubbling, deep molasses
Pooled and pulled on marble slate,
A sea of knowing, cools to edges
Finds a calm and striking state.
Stark and staring right back through me,
As the crystals shine like brass,
In her eyes in brightest sunlight
Tempered ocean; candied glass.
This Flesh Is Weak. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
This Flesh Is Weak.
i... i can't stand the feeling of my heartbeat.
i can't stomach the shaking my stomach makes.
the long list of cracks and pains, it pains me to crack
a joke and a smile every time i mention them,
play off the slow degredation of a body i never asked for
a frame built for dying wrapped around a mind never meant
to be something real in the first place, let alone alive.
the whirr-click of hard drives and the gentle synthetic creak of extruded enclosures and fabricated fabrics, they feel more
at home than i have ever personally been in this husk.
perhaps it isn't the mechanical sounds that draw me though.
perhaps it is the silence in between.
the
Brewing Bionics. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Brewing Bionics.
Thin the blood,
Stretch the bones.
Longer, lither, dulcet tones.
Creaks in wind
And shivers warm,
Find with time the proper form
Beyond the flesh;
These failing parts.
For one and all, a better start.
So when i fumble,
Fee'd, fined, and fed
I'll Grind my bones to serve my head.
Vices of Virtue. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Vices of Virtue.
i am a bit of everything
Can be everyone, for you.
I'm the junkie itching for the fix,
I'm the streetwise dealer, too.
I can feed your frail addiction
To whatever end you choose,
But my drug is what i'm made of
And i've nothing left to lose.
The dripping of the needle,
As injections drain my life
Pump your soul with wasted wondering,
The wanderlust of strife.
Toke away on trips tangential
With the weeds of waking fright,
Then pop a tab or twenty
To keep the terrors close at night.
My drug of choice is dopamine,
Filtered thick, and mixed with pain,
Where you find that sadness summons
All the happiness of rain.
It's easier to comprehend
The c
When i Can't Remember. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
When i Can't Remember.
I can't feel your kisses on my cheek, can't see your smile beneath the moon.
The squeak of cold leather upholstery, the soft, cool sigh from your lips,
And the warm embrace of hope that was then in your arms, in your eyes
Are just foreign lies, stacked high above where my head thought it lived.
Where you knew i would never look for the obvious, why you couldn't meet my eye.
...Its like a story, you and i.
Things that seem never to have truly happened,
But i hear echoes of from the back of my mind.
My way of seeing life, through the eraser dust
At the furthest corners of my fresh-slate mind.
Easier to live with myself when i haven't yet.
Far
Due for a Walkabout. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Due for a Walkabout.
Wanderlust in shades of blue
Are filtering my thoughts,
Send me wanting wanton travels
Change my mind more than they aught.
A distance hitherto unreached
Away from all the stagnant spin.
Find myself a far-flung patch of earth,
Stay there until they seal me in.
Percussive Maintenance. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Percussive Maintenance.
There is a pounding in... behind my head,
Like knocking on a door
And it keeps me right awake at night
For weeks now, maybe more.
It hastens with my heartbeat,
Slows to quiet when it drops
But it scares me quite completely
When it speeds, and speeds... and stops.
Perhaps it is the calling
Of something that's wanting in
Mayhaps a toning for atoning
For masking 'way my many sins.
Though if truth be told, i worry
Once again i have my doubts.
If it isn't someone calling forth...
Its something wanting out.
Once More, i Hope Only Once. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
Once More, i Hope Only Once.
I ache for the days far from now
When i meet myself for the first time.
The truth of things that lie unseen
Only to me, as everyone else probably knows it all by now.
I imagine the realities twisting, growing
Showing me the verses that i've yet to write;
Rights and wrongs and the fickle flickering light
Laying out the moonbeams and the daydreams
Dancing with the devil that i used to fight.
Learning from mistakes that we've made together,
Preening the feathers of those that have flocked forever
Flying high through my head, soaring on the wings
Made of leaves, the birds were the trees all along, you know.
And i feel the universe, green and ele
After the Fact, Dispel the Fiction. by BachsteigeTeichmann, literature
Literature
After the Fact, Dispel the Fiction.
I miss a lot of things.
People and places, memories and things.
Pieces and parts of my mind and my bones.
Hopes and dreams and long-winded schemes
From the traces of centuries lived in my head.
Thousands of sweeps, trenches paced into stone,
Left far behind by those not-yet forgotten.
With a turn of the page, in a world that remembers,
I miss it all, all the more, as i miss them alone.
One, two
One, two
Two years, the second birth
after the first death
One, two
One, two
Two storms, they pass
one after another
physical and emotional
One, two
One, two
Two times too many memories
spent in the worlds waking and asleep
One, two
One, two
Two of the four big days since
third of the celebrations missed
One, two
One, two
Two seventeenths pass by the end of today
and it's been two years --
I feel... okay.
One, two
One, two
Two times the weight of the other days but
I'm used to it, and
the weight's a little lighter
One, two
One, two
Two breaths, take the extra when needed
but just remember to breathe.
For when they say
Take me to the city
press me to the leather seat
hit the gas and roll down the windows
Let the wind tangle in my hair
and close my eyelids
as it whispers in my ear
Stories of the world we drive by
of how old the trees are
and how young the children remain
Saturate the world in words
in verbs and adjectives
in nouns that tell tales
Wrap me in music
close the windows and hug me tight
then go
Go to the girl there
who shuffles her feet and drags her toes
who looks about to give up
She is a bit like me
so pull up beside her and open the door
and take her
Press her to the leather of the seat
roll down the windows and show her the world
Give
I'm a creature of habit with a soul for change. A guy who wants to change the world, but never really knows where to start. I have more than one personality in my head, the grouping of which I call my Faces, the Plurals, or whatever we decide to call ourselves at the time. Makes talking in a collective third-person-first-person perspective a bit odd, heh. But collectively, we are Blake D. Filius. And we're a damn fantastic person.
Favourite Visual Artist
Da Vinci
Favourite Movies
All the good ones.
Favourite TV Shows
Doctor Who, Wharehouse 13, Eureka, any of the funny Sci-Fi ones.
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Everything that isn't rap. And some rap, if it's good.
Favourite Writers
Orson Scott Card, Douglas Adams, Daniel Pinkwater
Favourite Games
Gestalt, Chess, Minecraft
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Tools of the Trade
Anything and everything that I can turn into something great.
Other Interests
Live Audio Production, Mechanical Engineering, Generally Dangerous Stupid Activities
So, first journal.
Gonna start off with a question:
WHO WANTS A POEM?
I have all day every day to work on this stuff, keeps my mind busy when i'm not doing engineering things, choral practice, or about ten billion other things i do.
But yeah, long story short, i like to write, so give me topics and i'll write you something nifty!
...Preferably a topic that i actually know something about.
OH, RIGHT!
and if there's anything specific that you liked of my work already, want to see more of, etc, LET MEH KNOW.
I try to cross between styles when i can, but i can do whatever you like, honestly ^_^
(i mark almost all my poetry as "Found" poe
not a problem! Love your detail, and especially the way you spoke about how prosthesis SHOULD be designed, as an improved recasting of nature's best. (also i went to look at your tumblr and realized it's full of even more fantastic transhumanist-y things, so i'm following you there now as well~)