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About Literature / Artist charlesMale/United States Group :icongliitchmonth: gliitchmonth
a dynamic writing experiment
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Literature
susurrus siss session
i'll choke every bit of
false life out of
your beautiful,
failing,
disaster-burdened
lips.
i hate that you
were right
to prompt
this.
tears upon gripped
trachea - i hate
these ends, i love
this rended
carapace.
i'm broken in every
sense.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 7 0
Literature
automata
bb.
i've been right
for so long, am i
to be
left out by this
eve?
can i be seen
in the aftermath,
broken, disabled,
a weeping queen
of swords?
steel me,
more times than this
i've lost
dressed nines.
sssssssss.
i've been right
here for so many
lives, redactions
kissing blacker
than hate's grotesque cries.
cannot see through
it, can't hack it
out of these devised lungs;
one hanged man
in an iron seize.
what is left
of the humanity
we swore to see
installed?
0.
we, the null,
deserve death.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 7 4
Literature
graviteeth
moon's bite echoes,
dust kicked up
to orbit, earth
stunned and
slowed,
shame bright.
aglow in shades
of lava flow,
veins let fire,
bleed magma.
earth speaks
ragged and
resigned.
moon hides
its face,
buried deep in
tectonic plates,
red as sudden disgrace
and scar.
together they
war.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 10 4
Literature
tideeyed
earth feels moon's
need slack,
scans dark side's
absent facets,
broods drearily
and gasps.
in fact, moon's
need is maximized,
can't keep asking
but can't rely
on earth's shine
and lapse.
earth waxes poetic,
moon wanes alone.
earth blames the static,
moon makes a home
amidst the void,
a darling expanse
of unknowns and
active fears;
they revolve,
inadequate,
for years.
then moon
impacts.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 31 10
Literature
godsplanet (repetitious earth misery)
i.
while asleep,
white scalp phosphorus
conflagrates.
predilection for heaven's gate-
ruminating with blood wine
spilled by seizing extremities-
a sweet-tooth for pearls
choked down by swine.
what does clay dream of
when it molds itself?
is it a dream
if we call it faith?
ii.
smothering pillow catches,
high threadcount incense
fuses with bone.
give me rome
and delusions of grandiose plans
for we mortals coiled
in drought-ridden plains.
i swear i will make
my father's mistakes
better, swear i will fall
on roses, swear i will bleed
debts and cholera.
is it unseemly
to grope
for meaning?
iii.
no home, no countryside,
no water for the droning on.
let the speakers' tongues
swell and be swallowed.
quiet us all
with garroting,
there was no cause
for this.
when earth burns
from within
is it dreaming
of forming
again?
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 8 2
Literature
need
limbs up to heavens
that ache for the reach,
absolution of
gravity
sought, not
found, lost but not
proud enough
to assume
grace
sins on the face
like warpaint;
light, ornate
cursive pains
plain as end of days
depravity defined
by the cloaked-in-lace,
the dead
these limbs don't reach,
wrath of scorned heavens
rains down, smears the makeup
of the free
at trumpets' sound
the earth will hold
no knees
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 8 3
Literature
abdications
spittle in the beards
of old gods, disbelief
severing ankles of clay.
curses in colors
unknowable, universes
fluctuate and absorb
the wrath.
none of them stand
this change, the future
will reign in indomitable glory.
history's only gift
is this story:
repetition.
brittle as the fearful
gods, disbelief
settling ancient debts.
stadiums and amphitheaters echo,
vacant.
no one a man
nor deity, sutures
stitch across idols' skin
as the wind
whimpers soft as
indignation.
how do you bury
what claimed
to be deathless?
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 10 7
Literature
gross approximation
i. attestation of inadequacy
the knife is in your grip
and your back, your spine
nonexistent, your body contorted
and the knife in your back
twisting. the pain is not
dulled by this fact, that
the knife is in your grip
and every millimeter
added to the wound is because
of you. your body isn't numb
to your failure, your
rampant destruction of self
echoes in your nailbeds
and the enamel of your
dulled teeth. your jaw
is clenched, your body
contorted, the knife is in
your grip and your back
is weeping into the night.
ii. aspiration of inelegance
the night is in your veins
and your fever is spiking.
there is no way to feel
less pain, it is a constant
knife in your back. in your grip
is a tuft of your hair.
you kiss like your old wounds
have since closed but
the night is in your veins
by way of bright red
lacerations. your body isn't numb
to your failing systems,
your flailing rhythms bid you
lick the night from your veins
and self-destruct. your jaw
is broken, your body
open, the knife is
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 44 8
Literature
liturgic
i.
cursive coiled around
her wrist, somehow
descenders and finials
glisten as they bite.
bracelet of fanged type,
she curses each time
she begs it bind her
tighter.
this dictionary
of self-worth,
greedy lexicon of
meaning sharpened throughout
the years, is necessary.
every symbol speaks
a fear, a tear, or weary
acceptance. she
recites each one in every
broken mirror.
sometimes, the shards
reflect beyond the wrist,
up a scarred armlet,
across an embledded torc.
sometimes, she feels
the script corset
grip like a maiden
of iron.
the idea of freedom
confined by the teeth
of language;
she weeps.
ii.
when dawn breaks
she will pretend
again.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 37 13
Literature
lowthoughts
when i feel
like dying i
look at the
faces, think of
where i have
been, how many
paces since
then, what of
the innocent?
what good are
ends? there's more
meaning in tending toward
ruin than actual
fractures in raptor
bones, more
in the fall than
the failure,
journeys left
right at the path's
fork. maybe
a hero is
lucky to
die.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 11 0
Literature
loresworn
stone-cold fraudulent bones
and no moderate tones
a tome of slaughter and somnambulist prose
plodding through ambulance rows
rotting and ample in foes
father of plotted domination
prodding patients for souls
bother the gravesites and ghouled mettles
the dangerous grows among impatiens
and rose petals in basements aglow
garden of hatred and rote argument
fragrant with poured ars'nic
and anger unsourced
bargain insatiable, throats targeted
fangs in the thorns
pardon the nascent forewarning
before the rage of the storm
we may be fated for mourning
but know the face of our scorn.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 14 8
Literature
teenage primordial wasteland (lonely hope)
i.
kicking off the extra blanket,
i try to dissolve into a sea
of worlds-without-hearts.
i feel like a hearth
without wood, a symbol
of comfort left vacant
when the spark finally
consumed.
i twist the top sheet
around my shattered ankle,
wish it anchored me
to a crushing seafloor.
once, we were more
than a void.
ii.
fourteen felt a lot
simpler, sixteen near triumphant,
but eighteen stabs
through every interosseous possibility.
what does it even mean
to be me?
iii.
fold the extra blanket, set it
at the foot of the bed,
smooth it out, sit down
cross-legged on the floor.
look around, feel surrounded
by the past. how did i
become this
differentjadedhopelesstireddangerous?
want to burn it all
down, stand in ashes,
raptor stance as i'm
reborn.
i just want
to know my form.
iv.
nineteen catches in my
forearm, barbed and vicious,
tearing.
i have never wept
like this, never been the
victim, never drowned
in the sea of worlds-without-hearts.
what does it even mean
to breathe?
v.
sleep atop a worn
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 12 13
Literature
[ex]human
i don't have to
undulate,
don't find my worth
in waiving rights.
i'm more than meets,
than eyes, than details
you desire. you don't get me
started and i promise
i won't cut you down
to size.
i don't try
to steal attention,
grab your heart,
or realign your focus;
you project this
false reality upon me,
worship it, and
burn when exposed
to the truth:
i continue to exist
without you.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 8 3
Literature
doesn't need any
torrent of swears
from espresso lips,
no archon withstands
her fervor, divine
in how purely
reviling it is.
serpentine, wearing
the hides of those caught
in her abject wrath,
she stabbed through
their chests with immaculate
manicure.
orphic snare
fashioned from jawbones
once left agape,
polished carefully
with the tears
of the pious.
portent of garish
future, she's channeling
every curse through
flawlessly upkept
veins, there's no
disarming this reign
of fury.
after words
every foe falls
in love.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 10 2
Literature
once zero
i've been
watching
my in-
volun-
tary
disap-
pearance,
felt my
self e-
rase, my
straining
face be
written
off, im-
patient.
i've been
waiting
on a
maybe,
resting
inno-
cently
in a
demon's
jawline;
lately
i can
feel the
fangs dis-
placing
purpled
skin, hate-
ful grin's
embrace,
entrap-
ment, en-
gineer
of my
intan-
gibil-
ity.
once i
was me.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 12 3
Literature
hard to hold (breaths/hands/hearts/anticipations)
because there must be
a crown of thrown fists
and poison-bright blooms
wreathing my dull countenance,
must be three sheets
of loose-leaf regret
atop infinite reams,
must be enough
to scream danger.
because i surely
am weaker, am fallable,
am a tryant over possibility
and error alike.
i am surely enough
to leave those around me
hanged.
because i see myself
in my dead mirror eyes
and believe i can only
get stranger.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 14 3

Journal History

deviantID

gliitchlord
charles
Artist | Literature
United States
i'm just a guy i write sometimes.

gaming sn: gliitchlord (on pretty much every platform)
instagram: gliitchlord_poetry (decently inactive)
snapchat: cmcmpfs (i think? probably?)
tumblr: yeah i'm on there somewhere
twitter: nah
others: are there others i cant think of them?

Activity


on the third (fourth?) arc and this game keeps confirming its undeniable mythic status

automata me the fuck right up i'm dying please
just filled out that dA community survey that i wouldn’t have known about if i wasn’t following certain people. tried to emphasize both the unprofessional nature of dA and the general lack of community (perhaps perceived but that’s feeling always comes up among writers) : surveymonkey.com/r/6F3KR8L
i'll choke every bit of
false life out of
your beautiful,
failing,
disaster-burdened
lips.

i hate that you
were right
to prompt
this.

tears upon gripped
trachea - i hate
these ends, i love
this rended
carapace.

i'm broken in every
sense.
279 deviations
bb.
i've been right
for so long, am i
to be
left out by this
eve?

can i be seen
in the aftermath,
broken, disabled,
a weeping queen
of swords?

steel me,
more times than this
i've lost
dressed nines.


sssssssss.
i've been right
here for so many
lives, redactions
kissing blacker
than hate's grotesque cries.

cannot see through
it, can't hack it
out of these devised lungs;
one hanged man
in an iron seize.

what is left
of the humanity
we swore to see
installed?


0.
we, the null,
deserve death.
automata
i'm sure there will be
more to this
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Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2018   Writer
Just wanted to let you know you're cool and stuff. :heart:
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconpeaseblossoms:
peaseblossoms Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2018   Writer
happiest of (belated) birthdays to one of my favorite poets of all time!!!!! you’re absolutely wonderful and i hope you had an amazing day!! keep on gliitching :hug::heart:
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Happya2 by Alimera

Have a blessed day, darling one. :heart:
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconperiodicfable:
PeriodicFable Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2018   Writer
Charles, hope life is beautiful, and that you're having a wonderfully happy birthday. You deserve nothing less. :hug: Thanks for all the inspiration, honesty, and warm fuzzies. 
:airborne:
Reply
(1 Reply)
:icondeerydeerth:
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday, and may your new year of life be even more abstract, strange and at the same time, agreeable~
Reply
(1 Reply)
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