Johnny Gerbrandt
Bio
Love lifting, love writing, love designing. My journey is a strange one but I love it. learning constantly.
Stories (28/0)
Far reaching
Far-reaching curiosities tending toward flaw, initiate consequences of dismembered context, driven in contempt, begging direction. As if no sound has been, nor has the heart poured its passion that it may be ignored, cast to the pile allowed to rot. It has been held stifled to smolder deep within, can it be seen, is it tangible enough that others may see, or is this mine alone to see. For who can know the flavors but the chef, however, his masterpiece may be enjoyed universally, the careful weavings of the mind dictate a peculiar taste, not one sought by many nor is there a connoisseur that is not rare, they can smell the emotion and wring the words and taste every drop, molding and shaping the perspective toward a new understanding or is it new, eons buried deep in the recesses of the psyche striving to reach the surface, clawing through a muddled network of neurons programed in ways unbeknownst, yet bending to the mighty will, the desire, to know, as the phoenix that was once ashes, smoulder complete, is apt for rebirth the expression of the whole that cannot be denied its presence nor its expression.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Even though
Insipid character controlling the animal gripping it’s freedom and binding its lustre Trap the beast keep him sedated, fasten him in insecurities that he may feel less than, for who cannot see princes being cast aside while the crumbling rule the day, their horses give ride to the weak, whereas the mighty toil restlessly in fields of dismay, as if the fortitude of these can be broken even though the hands are empty the perpetual radiance will never leave them, for they are not born of the weakness they were born in battle and have arisen and cannot be put asunder, even though they walk alone with empty hands.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Please Thy Eyes.
Transcendent heights of once fallen nodes of lost tablets echo relentlessly across the chasms of molten mocheries, taunting and jeering latent prisms that scatter voices into form, the silhouette endures the dance bleeding emotion not yet realized in a freedom beyond the experience of the ones who judge without seat, how would it be, those who are with flaw may seat themself in a lofty throne above those of their own kind, leaking and spewing forth weakness insecurity, dripping with pride upheaving the pillars that support the facade. Your finger has found you out, demand as so demanded, knees are bent unequal equation summed up in saturated illustrations of garbled misshapen monoliths embodied by indescribable projection, cast upon congealed spirits of the gorged, slothful and sloopy slumbering, exacting, thee exact time and space possessed by another entwined by force, sleep, dream, please thy eyes, sleep, dream, please thy eyes.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Wild Ramblings
Encased in ash breathing in fetters of vines, scroll through time, scattering the water of ancient days. Corrupt by insecurities that run wild through his character enslaving him in the movement he has no belief in, entranced by sunbursts traveling through twisted dimensions bringing him rest and joy. guttural voices with intrepid strength spanning across the expanse wavering not to emotions of fleeting weakness, drowning despair in a sea of unprecedented joy. Metal swallowed by fire refining the corrupt out, creating metal pure unbreakable. Tension resides in the trivial way of the sullen, destroyed by the mind that keeps them tormented, tails of time ridiculed to fragments of dust torn in two by the winds that distribute gnarled principles.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Where all is reality and reality is all.
Elicited margins of disturbed machinations ozze insatiably across the landscape of the mind gleaning traces of ornate passages stolen by groves of ghosts which are exhaled through the eyes, distance appears blind as crooked closets bind and don’t close. It can be heard if still, the whimpering of shadows of days gone by, burned by time, consumed by years, needfully forgotten and buried, smash the urn there is no need for reverence, the wick is long consumed and the devastation long past. The sprout stretches and unfolds with fresh never known growth exceeding the margins previously believed, even though tender this will become the weathered the unbreakable thee unmovable, thee unstoppable. Where all is reality and reality is all.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Willingly
Strength miss spoken as wisdom left cold, so love controlled, manipulated by the nonresistant soul, bitter to the core, the leaves they fall, none have been eaten, the cocoon unformed, occasions of simplicity, scarce objects of power sent through channels of unimaginable sight, bending the understanding away from our limited perspective revealing thee actual, telling tales of a reality foreign to our understanding, stripe bias conclusions from the record, let them write themselves, fear not the sight before you, embrace it, as delusions melt so does your staggered soul revive in its journey for the actual not the fantasy, which leeches all who tread her yet as the darkness envelopes them the smile perpetually marks their face.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Sand and Strife
Drastic eradication of inconsistent spastic surges of deluded vessels pouring blasphimies over a gift made, gratefulness disregarded tossed to the ground muddied and forgotten, Build the wall let no one scale it, fortify the mote with sin and sacrifice, drench the ground with the slur of the thickness, suffocating those that dare come near, the veil has been set the door is close let those who approach beware, for we have stepped beyond the veil disrupted streams on your behalf, immolated the light so that you may walk without out blindness, yet disrespect is your septure and sarcasm your crown. Wallowing in your kingdoms of the marshland, for stagnant rot fills your bones, and an unquenchable fire in your mind, drives you to claw and tear down your own castles built of sand and strife.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Empty
Incandescent streams of illiterate patterns of immemorial bliss, casting incoherent shadows of naked souls strun about like pine cones in fall. Cast the stone hear its sound infused with Dead wasps, dripping the salt from another, are these but intricate weavings of fallen particles that lost their way or abandoned their post. Where is the moment, now lost, never to be once, as if to see that which has never been. Have the possibilities faded or is our sight constrained, should we look, or is this the place of gods, Unseen slivers of experiences spread carelessly across infinity in one. More than one is incomprehensible to those that decay.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Content misdirected
Convoluted casualties of twisted torsos scaling walls of incomprehensible height and depth, bleeding enigmatic sorrows created by preconceived notions of a reality that envelopes the mind spewing inadequate marvels of inconsistent victories, that lay dead in the pit of procrastination, seeking approval, wretched meet wretched, lost meet lost, we have found our way, the dance ensues, and the snare is set that we may dance in this cesspool of provocation being led by lack of and satisfied within this labyrinthe to nowhere.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Black
Betwixt be the tailor of souls decimated by brutal connections that drain into oblivion scattered pieces of wreckage encompassed by distance fears that no longer are present. Colors fade into black and white yes and no, depart from these and fall victim to the renaissance of corruption words lost in cryptic tales thought to have meaning fall to the ground broken like glass, and blown away like dust. Concede not the details of time lost. For have you not grown or are you still as the hermit crab stuck within your first shell to afraid to step out naked and cold, too afraid to find your new larger shell for fear of being exposed, not knowing that this exposure is necessary for the next stage of growth. Palpitations of the soul screech in darkness seeking out ridges of the cliff to cling too. The well is not dry ,draw from your own well, quit stealing from others for if the waters are never stirred or drawn they run stagnant all is thick with poison perspective askew blaming the wall, for your fear sitting in the sun only seeing black, this is your cause, not the wall or even the night.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
The Cost
Skins of dead snakes exude perfume from their scales onto the dead grass bringing forth one single flower, a flower of hope and glory distant memories swallowed by time have you forgotten who you are. who you are to be, glory beneath the sullen sporadic marshes of your soul grow into mountains of possibilities scouring the essence of life devouring time. Simply set in a fixed empathetic region of wealth disturbed by inconsistent drops of contorted abnormalities bleeding into the cost
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
Gods Lost
We were kings in some ages, Gods in others .now we are but dust, renditions of human cliches. vivid imaginations spreading across the vast empty calling for us to come home .but there is no home for the reviled the outcast, we have seen and know the corruption within, the taste on the tongue is as acid eating away the flesh, come see our wisdom, come feel our pain it is bliss .tantalize by the voices inside creating company within solitude.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets