Archive for April, 2015


The Beacon

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She said she’d return as a small light,
one I would see should sadness surround me.

No need to search, just open your heart
I’ll guide you out of the dark

© Chagall 2015

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Here at the ceiling, before flying away,
I think that I’ll bob just a bit

© Chagall 2015

Twice

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This then is essentially done,
I just need now to go and do it.

© Chagall 2015

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The songs are ancient
Sung by birds who’ll soon perish
Sunlit empty branch

© Chagall 2015

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Her love reached me in fragments
until I was whole, except for fine fissures
where sometimes I cry at the seams

© Chagall 2015

Phrasal Turn

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The least we can do
is to make the most of it.

© Chagall 2015

Seduction

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I fell in love
when the waitress said
Cherries-in-chocolate
or chocolate-in-cherries,
which will it be?

© Chagall 2015

La Fête

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How creative the moment it constellates
like stars in time set off little flares
I’m awake I’m awake I’m alive!
against real sky in reel time.  Let’s!
you and I do jigs on the dance floor
wave our flames high in the air
We’re awake, we’re alive!

© Chagall 2015

The Fork

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I remember now – once as a child
I had devised a way to forget.
Did I really spring from that?

© Chagall 2015

If You Have A Few Minutes

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Hold me and tell me sounds, what I need to hear,
shake words to make me rattle, I’ll see foregone conclusions anew,
you used to once. Brave hearts go deep, so low in chorus, concordant
and oh so sonorous, young voices blend in pure bass tone,
hallow and echo, till the bell of the voice of the belles fades
into night around corners turned yellow in gaslight,
an ancient night quite like this one, I swear I hear
waves lapping somewhere down where couples go
to kiss standing on the rocks, eternity beckons like warm night,
with nary a star or a candle from windows along the bow, I cherish
how we move like this, persistence in each iamb
to draw one last breath, I feel it so I let it expel
to realize one next breath, the trick it is to keep breathing,
the idea simply to just let go, somersault lively, high-step now
flare a bit and be reckoned with like a child’s limerick
where you puff out your chest and exclaim
it’s certainly my special day!
or so I hope it is, I wish the best for you

© Chagall 2015

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