My poems
are like cameos
They show up
in your life
every now and then
In profile,
on a bus,
a shadow,
off far away
Lyrics that strike you
on a dare
from the ledge
Where
only
small
foot
steps
keep
you
from
fall
© Chagall 2013
Archive for November, 2013
A bridge with your name
Where slow cabs drive lovers home
Early dawn next day
© Chagall 2013
Today’s light
is eternal morning.
It’s light that shines
for just today
despite
so many miles
still heated,
it feels warm
– even hot –
on the skin.
That alone
leaves me
breathless,
perplexed
and stymied.
We are
here,
there’s
no denying that,
but explaining it . . .
mustn’t we try?
© Chagall 2013
I can’t
get high
enough
© Chagall 2013
The weight
of the liquid
dimpled the opening
enough to enable
the flow
© Chagall 2013
To reap the sown
is joyous
colorful
sugary
tubers
crisp
and mellow
roasted
or simply
grated
raw
no need to brush
all the earth away
© Chagall 2013
Once
you and I were old
it got easier to breathe
to reverse the course
till we aged less
each day
regressed
in every way
the advance of cells
the march
staved off
the inevitable
through the miracle
of mind
over matter
after all
life is just
one
of the afterglows
© Chagall 2013
In the mirror
I watch
as I silently
say a prayer
with deep conviction
I search my face
for the eternal
either question
or answer
human
or spirit
life and death
or divine
as if
I listen
with my eyes
© Chagall 2013
I trust you
if you’re blood
or related
to blood
through blood
No thin liquids
here
© Chagall 2013
White and pink flowers
in a black vase
beside the nip
of bourbon
Its caramel
reminds me
that love
is never
sure
but a kiss
is always possible
© Chagall 2013
Alphabet City 