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 Jun 2014 Spt
Cyrus Agons
Surfing across the glaze of light
Multiverse into one, this universe shines bright
Condensed energy upon my sight
Mystery upon this 'life'
All is multiverse stitched into one universe
All universes stitched upon each other
Tension upon layer and layers
Heaven, Hell, reincarnation, all are bound by makers
One moves upon a series of 'matter' or vibrations after the shell is removed or gained
However rather low, high, negative, or positive energy, all is remained
Logic
A mere barrier designed and captivated by a mind
Grasping your vision, your perception, your multiverse
Either a hinder or power surge
Forming pieces of ones quilt to converge
A poisonous psychedelic
The rarity of an ancient relic
It is yours, whatever it may be
Hold close, as it is all you may have
As the 'universe' of the multiverse leans and meets according to so
Then raving within your conscious, you see a brighter glow
You pursue, you make the most
Using the now gleam to move upon the multiverse you hope to have
Doing all in reality in order to keep the spark alive
What seems to be drab
What seems to strive
All according to the beholder
We keep these lights seemingly closer
Whatever they maybe
Whomever they maybe
What has never begun to start will never be over
 Jun 2014 Spt
Zemyachis
~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~


Express Mail                 Envelope  
I send  thee
Kisses and                                good wishes
To that wind where you watch the sunset
At so far  a distance
But I am there in my mind
And I pray
In yours
.
 Jun 2014 Spt
Cyrus Agons
Slithering slice
Fixture of light
Flicker, flicker along the fields of my sight
As the bubble I evolve in expands
Expanding towards my iris
Gazing upon my hands
Pupils dilated
Expand, expand
That's all reality does until it morphs towards a new dimension
Once, again it is small
Doing so is your decision
Senses all bound to one
Bound upon the screen am I
High upon the realm is my third eye
Rattling the vibration towards the ends of my feet
In
Out
Then the energy meets
Continuous flow
Cycle, repetition, insanity, whatever may dwell through your mind
All is all, it merely depends on the kind
Variety, but also the same
Dry, but with a hint of rain
There is never a fully accurate range to perceive vibrations
At least not in this journey
My journey, my mere reality
A malleable matter this dimension is
Zoning unto a higher form brings the bliss
Endless doors enclosed in a hallway
Endless hallways enclosed in a complex
Endless complexes enclosed within a grid
Beyond the grid is a mirror
The key to all universes merged and 'alive' within the multiverse
A simple reflection, a mind blowing surge
Breathing deeper into the land I urge
Enhancements as the soul is here
Ego at gone, nothing to fear
How must a force so vulnerable be so beautiful?
That is for all of us to answer
We all thump into one, all inside the mirror of the Green Panther
 Jun 2014 Spt
Cass
././././
 Jun 2014 Spt
Cass
you asked me why
i stopped telling you i love you
but the girl who loved you
is busy screaming out the window
in the city in the middle of the night

i don't love you
and i'm not sure if i ever did
 Jun 2014 Spt
Emma B
We fool ourselves into believing
we can see without correction.
I tried to look too far, my eyes strained,
and it worked, but in seeing ahead, in seeing distantly,
what lie in front of my squinting irises remained a blur

"If you keep your face like that it'll stick that way."

I've been looking at the same flower for years now.
It looks the same but there is some aspect
which my squint cannot determine, it seems,
that changes after every passing blink.

Having eyes locked on a flower is a funny business
it first shone by its beauty, but, a short blink later
the petals seem to fall under their weight
as if taking a periodic breath, and releasing into a calmer state.

Looking at something for long enough stops hurting after a while.
It becomes symbiotic, the flower seems to stare back, even lacking eyes.
And that's where the crack in the wall begins,
believing a flower to have eyes.

It goes wrong when the flower appears to be looking back
It seems real in thought, but reality tells a different story,
as it always does.
thought and reality are not closely linked, unfortunately
and this makes flowers somewhat fantastical.
and of course it is easy to enjoy their fragrance, or rich color,
but once you have locked eyes with a flower, once your face gets

stuck that way...

you can't look away
and it will wilt, imaginary eyes and all.
 Jun 2014 Spt
Marshall Gass
The Cook
 Jun 2014 Spt
Marshall Gass
I am a great cook, you said, casually
switching between the phone and knife
cutting conversations into small slivers
dicing lettuce, add patties, mustard
the phone smearing your make-up.
balancing between your neck and necklace
and long spiral ear-rings.

I am a great cook, you continued,
head tilted at a rakish angle
knife still dancing in mid-air.

( It’s a technique you mastered
over the years)
Cutting, calling and stalling.
I watched those big brown eyes
join the talkative salad and burger
now taking shape on the table

I shrivelled in fear
when you laughed and said:
I am a great cook and killer
of lettuce, stray ladies and flirty men-
Ha! Ha!
( oops!)

Do you want a beer to go with your burger?
did you joke?

Author Notes

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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 22 days ago
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