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Where Light Is

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Just this side of spoken word!
Headphones recommended

Original by Carlos Chagall and Sebastien Greco @ 2015
Carlos Chagall – all instruments
Sebastien Greco – vocals

Early draft

In time, she said
Go easy
I’ve been beside myself
Ever since

In life, she said
There’s not much more than this

But light
Anywhere that light is
That’s where you’ll find me

I was born one day
Two die one day
I didn’t know
How could I know

In time, she said
Please go easier!

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Innovative sorts
Like Steve Jobs, only haiku
To the crazy ones

© Chagall 2015

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Right ’round the time of my birthday in May
I start to trim down, in June wine and dine her,
in July bring her flowers and candy, so that
we can hook up some cool night in August
to loll and to make more May babies.

© Chagall 2015

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Spectral howls beckon
High above the timberline
Where she begets stars

© Chagall 2015

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In a moment of overwhelming clarity, lucidity,
sensing the indescribable vastness around us,
and the infinities that bookend our existence,
appreciating the endless variety of life on Earth,
the delicate balance of nature, honed by time, shaped
in essential elements, hardened by the crucibles
of fire, then ice, then fire again, afloat on a blue ball
two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen, in orbit
around stars, turned giants to dwarfs, to massive
black holes, billions times greater than our own sun,
how insignificant we are – aren’t we? How alone we are –
aren’t we? Galaxies inside universes grouped into multi-verses
like droplets of water in the great rush of the falls over the edge
of time, to the very end, there where the boundary simply ceases.

And then you witness the fucking depravity of the growing hordes
who dominate the front pages of our newspapers, killing and maiming
and enslaving and destroying and relishing every moment, as if they actually
are relevant beings in the scheme of things, so self important,
so committed to bullshit, so self serving, while at the same time
so manipulated.

They should all rot in hell – and they shall.

© Chagall 2015

Haiku For The Final 8 Minutes Of Light

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Soon will be our turn
Grieving mothers in darkness
Suns die everyday

© Chagall 2015

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I place my bookmark upside down
or right-side up, pointing front
or back, to easily resume
from where I’ve stopped,
top-left open or bottom facing
that sort of thing;
my read of you though
leaves me so
I keep my mark
on its edge.

© Chagall 2015

The Commute

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At the stop sign
in the tinted glass
of the hatchback
before me, reflections
of eagles flying
until the small blue
import in front proceeds,
leaving me next, alone
at the corner. I crane
to gaze out my sunroof,
a final glimpse of echelon.

© Chagall 2015

Haiku For A Sudden Rush

Chagall:

Have a great week. Hoping it’s warm where you are. —Carlos

Originally posted on Alphabet City:

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Twice I watched her leave,
always the strange wisps vanished;
nothing to hold on.

© Chagall 2014

View original

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At least once a week, I search Google Maps,
for your house and I know it’s that day
we played hooky from work, July 2012, so hot,
the neighborhood empty and us in the backyard,
you pouring lemonade, I strumming serenades,
barefoot loungers on Barco chairs, watching the world go by,
high from the satellite’s view I zoom slowly
till I enter your heart again.

© Chagall 2015

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