mutilated-corps

Georgia Runes

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Indivisible by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Indivisible

Surreal is the real When the afterlife and this mortal plane Convene, intertwine, reconcile. Hell, once a daunting abstract vision, Now an abysmal concrete collision. Hooded figures approaching, Their violent leader encroaching Upon our objectionable humanity. The inalienable is alien. We can’t recognize their faces As they descend in droves To the promised gates But the gates are sealed, rusted, And what lies beyond unknowable, Formidable, and unforeseen. The idol on his throne Has lost his illusory valor. Guided by ghosts, the land Is plagued by the cold, Regression, and an overbearing Silence as the world continues To stand still, pa

Reinvent Yourself: An Appeal to My Self by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Reinvent Yourself: An Appeal to My Self

Reinvent yourself. I see someone who has survived. I see someone who has lived and almost died. I see someone who has endured silently. I see someone who is strong in body and spirit. I see someone who is vulnerable and empathetic. I see someone who is dreamy and romantic at the core. I see someone who sees the good intentions in others’ eyes. I see someone in love. I see someone with direction. I see someone with valid fears and insecurities, But who despite it all, is trying her best To swim, to float, with the current, Arms linked with her familiars. I see someone who has finally awakened. I see my Self.

Prayer to the Universe by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Prayer to the Universe

Safe, sober, and clean, Give me peace, love, and unity, Navigate the dark terrain, I need shelter. I need a guiltless existence. Help me to protect myself from self-fulfilling prophecies. I need kindness. I need ascendence. I bow before the majesty of the Earth’s descendants, Glimmering and basking in their righteousness, Piousness that can only be cultivated by those who believe that Their every word and deed is divine. I implore the universe to embrace me as its heiress. I pray to those before me and those to follow. I pray to myself, one life connected To the human consciousness, To the ethereal delights found in everyday life.

The Fall of King Paul by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

The Fall of King Paul

Putrid pustules full of pus popping on the tip of his nose, Breathing in pristine, serene air, Breathing out noxious poison. He hands us the tea, gives us a taste, And we gargle it down with some haste– We dare not seek to offend His Majesty, Who only on one other occasion this year, Has graced us with his unsightly visage– For he’s afraid to show his face– His infected, pox-encrusted face– And his rotting incisors With which he devours his prey So swiftly that one can scarcely recall The poor beast’s existence– To his subjugated subjects, Who for too long have gone without sustenance, All so that he

Resolution: Revolution by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Resolution: Revolution

This year, I am a ghost. I have become the premonition Whose rising threat of demolition You simultaneously crave and fear. You loathe me, try to control me, But I’m no object, nor Figure of flesh. I am your Fatal farewell, a toast to Absent allies and foes, Both of whom, even in death, You shall never reckon with, Let alone beckon, as you Stumble, crestfallen, into the Humorless void of human existence, Of which I claim as my domain.

The Mourning by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

The Mourning

Ghostly visage, Devil’s mirage, Slithering in disguise, Close your eyes, Don’t feed your Mounting fear, Suppress your howls, At the resounding wails. Darkened chambers, Hear a murmur In a lilting melody. Dry yourself, Hide yourself From your captor’s reveries, From your protesting squeals. No one believes In the spirit Glowering at your toes. Close their eyes, Hide yourself, Don’t want to impose On quiet respectability. All will be revealed in your mourning.

ASECEDE A Word from God by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

ASECEDE A Word from God

Speak slowly, speak softly, for others might fear you." Nobody, no face, no race, no trace of my material existence. I am the product of your existential crisis. There are no supporting characters, no cast, no show. This is entirely space. In the flesh, I’m a unicorn, bound by superstition and lore. Selfish strangers with bland parentage and lineage and no true culture of their own will exclaim my name in sanctimonious triumph to justify barbaric imperialism. They live to speak and breathe my name, but they know nothing about its intonation. I am a state of mind. I am a “figment of your imagi

Euphoric Glory of Human Joy by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Euphoric Glory of Human Joy

Joy is palatable, happiness is likely, Resurgence of wealth—internal and external— Glory is forever, euphoria is a halo And your head its fertile crescent. Stay content, stay grateful, Your body, your mind, your organs, All inspiring movement. So move on and move on, Not drifting like some sailors, Not giving Death the satisfaction Of a reckoning look, His days were once and former, But 'tis our time now— Body, mind, and organs, And we all have feet, We all have feet, To walk upon the soil, To carry us lightly to our homes, And should the law try to ask us Where we belong and where we Make our homes we shall say, "Within, fo

Gaze into Your Fragile Eyes by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Gaze into Your Fragile Eyes

Whenever I close my eyes, It's as if I've fallen to my knees To reclaim the heavens' refrain. Soft angel of disjunction Baring no contusion, The most tentative of verses still dwells. Ditching the camouflage, She dives almost mid-center, Bosoms in her hands, Proclaiming, "I am, I am." I have risen three days since. I have come, I have gone, And I have seen the Fresh young prince. I have cracked, I have wept, I have risen three days since. Whenever I borrow weight, It's as if I've fallen on my back To recall the heavens' guilt. Soft angel of disjunction Baring no contusion, The most tentative of verses still dwells. Ditching the camoufla

Part-Time Junkie by mutilated-corps, literature

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Indivisible by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Indivisible

Reinvent Yourself: An Appeal to My Self by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Reinvent Yourself: An Appeal to My Self

Prayer to the Universe by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Prayer to the Universe

The Fall of King Paul by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

The Fall of King Paul

Resolution: Revolution by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Resolution: Revolution

The Mourning by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

The Mourning

ASECEDE A Word from God by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

ASECEDE A Word from God

Euphoric Glory of Human Joy by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Euphoric Glory of Human Joy

Gaze into Your Fragile Eyes by mutilated-corps, literature

Literature

Gaze into Your Fragile Eyes

Part-Time Junkie by mutilated-corps, literature

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About mutilated-corps

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Artist

Nov 4
United States
Deviant for 15 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Made of flesh and bone and squishy internal organs and vile idealistic standards, I am--unfortunately--human. Concerning art, I mostly write; I have never been as adept in any other art form. deviantART is honestly just a site for me to publish lyrics and read/look at the works of others, nothing more; I do not feel tempted to feign bonds with anyone on this site or to--ahem--"network". Moving along, I play the cello and am currently singing in a choir (which I am enjoying immensely). My addictions include maple doughnuts, fairly-traded milk chocolate, grass-fed/organic steak, cow flank (better known as cow ass), writing vaguely depressing lyrics, singing in the shower at the top of my lungs, and swimming free-style until I pass out. Religion-wise, I am nothing; I don't fully believe anything. The way I see it is that there may be a God or prophet, or there may not; that logic can be applied to almost everything else I believe in religion, as well. If you'd like to contact me, just send me an e-mail (fragileminds@sbcglobal.net), comment here, or--if you're from the tahlstar website--send me a PM over there (my username is seren).

Favourite genre of music: Indie rock/Baroque pop/'80s music
Personal Quote: "Leave me the hell alone!"

Favourite Movies

Son of Rambow

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Rasputina

Other Interests

Rolling around in your insides.

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mutilated-corps

Oct 21, 2012

Questionnaire revisited, 2 years or so later

0 min read

What song are you listening to right now? Breakdown - Tom Petty (GO AHEAD, GIVE IT TO ME!) Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? My parents bought it for me.  No idea where. Could you go a day without eating? Yeah, but why the fuck would I want to? Have you ever kissed anyone whose name started with a J or A? Yes, Jasmin, and I don't believe that I've kissed anyone whose name starts with an A. (I literally had to spend five minutes mentally going over everyone in my head. XD) Do your parents force you to go to church or let you make the decisions? Nah.  They stopped going after I was born, and I'm not religious. (Same response

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mutilated-corps

Oct 21, 2012

I have no idea what to say, really.

0 min read

I'm rambling off the top of my head right now, so please, don't expect too much from this entry. I haven't posted [an entry] in over a year.  I doubt that anyone has actually noticed or given it much consideration (THANK GOD THE BITCH SHUT UP!) Look at all of these "I"s.  I must think that I'm so important--See, there!  I did it again!  And again!  My egotism is simply appalling. I would love to be able to say that I'm going places in life, but I kind of don't think so.  I think that I'm just killing time and trying something new, trying to make it on my own. If I'm being honest, I barely write anymore.  It's not in the back of my mind, m

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mutilated-corps

Oct 12, 2011

National Coming Out Day

0 min read

So hey to anyone who still reads these things.  You're cool. ;3 Anyway, in my time zone as of this very moment it is still National Coming Out Day, and while I don't consider myself to have ever really been "in the closet" (I never was repressing myself), I nevertheless wanted to take the time to say:  I am pansexual.  I am NOT bi, gay, straight, or whatever other sexuality.  I am PANSEXUAL. And no one in this world gets to tell me how I can and cannot identify.  How I label or don't label myself is MY option. Live for yourself, live free from repression and oppression, stand up for what is right, and love.  I love you.