the heart of the head

by Serrin Argo   

Trying to review the course your own life has taken 

in a sense becomes successively more challenging 

with each subsequent stage. There's an eloquence 

in knowing how much you've lost since coming of age. 

There may be a degree of a languorous, delayed maturation.

All in good time for the echelons to arrive and line up 

in a circular face off.  Like magnets assembled along 

a predetermined and superconductive line

 It's difficult to tell when they'll awake from 

their super held spell about which state was real 

 and which counter dominion reflected the dream 

still held perfectly still inside the heart of the head

Behind the Guardian of Growth

 by Serrin Argo 

We came carrying into the flowers because of the same old shenanigans.

 It was like we weren't indifferent to the hours so much as we no longer 

cared about time. It was sort of like trying to capture the feeling of   

letting go.  As if we'd lived our lives grounded to the positive current 

underlying the entire electromagnetic universe and as if we could  

disconnect from that well it turns out you can to the point it becomes 

addictive and that's why reincarnation's all the rage within the ever 

spinning maelstrom surrounding the eye of the corona the opening 

and widening of the iris receives to accommodate the visions

of the newly formed lands of paradise found blossoming about us 

& afar: far (and away we goand a how we are)away from he...

& afar: far (and away we go
and a how we are)
away from he...: far (and away we go and a how we are) away from here my dear you are, and near to me you seemed to be so recently (it had to be) there...

Orbital Resonance

We fall into crevices yawning open within
folds of our inner convolutions and then we
drift beneath the slipstream of our memories
down river fading in the silver moonlight
canted from our star whose radiance keeps
hid behind the face of this world grimacing
alone in the dark along the mad spiral dance
of its extensive solo pirouette performance
to a stunning climax before an absent crowd
Something of the barren gets transferred to
the stage and back thoroughly recycled for
the maintenance of a perpetual continuity
the show must go on for the satisfaction of
no one but the ghosts auditioning in the aisle

Cobalt Psionics

the FREEZINE offantasy and sciencefiction

magic marker on glossy photo paper by shasta lawton

february

imagus

an image may be placed

here

CHICKEN

Were we drivin' swerving round a corner skidding with wheels locked to the left for all the good it was doing? Were we screaming together in the face of falling death, Senestra flailing the steering wheel in the other direction in a desperate attempt to correct our fall. However futile the gesture may have been, I will always love her for trying. We accordioned into a crushed heap of flaking metallic paint chips and shattered webbed glass, embraced in a slammed enrapture which the windshield could not capture. Catapulted through our bodies thrown clear of the disaster.