I love the way
sound sounds
in slow crunchy snowfall
there’s no doubt
that we’re inside
the dome
Chagall 2015
Archive for November, 2015
A pulse
Feel it?
There!
indeed
a pulse
these holy
sparks of light
cackle electric
Chagall 2015
I carry around a tumbler
of ice and whiskey
to disguise the fact
that I’m actually stoned.
Chagall 2015
She’d already begun her fade to phantasm
a moment before dodging the flood,
how nimbly she came and went at will
a slow pulsing light in my life.
Chagall 2015
Lingering
never say die
from this flat line
rebirth
Sparks spike
on the graph
upside down vees
mean carbon’s awake
I flutter I shake I
bake back to life
ain’t been this good
since the last time
Chagall 2015
No wind
still arbors
living trees
in repose
Docile shaggy creatures
unwashed but scented
deeply of Mother
breathing
Absorb light
emit air
knee-deep
vernal pools
I am the sound
of the haze that’s risen
each morning heat cast
in winter chill
I am hope
pervasive
Chagall 2015
Quickly before the fire dies
leaving us in darkness
I need to see your face
the round of your cheek
soft lash holding
a bead of tear
Chagall 2015
I breathe heavy after an iamb
I tucker after a couplet
and now they’re talking stanza!
Chagall 2015
Your majesty, let this be writ today
Cineri gloria sera est
Glory paid to ashes comes too late
In waltz
cotton parasols like white petals
pirouette on open bud
spun this swaying lady
In tango curvy, nay brilliant
bryllyg and slythy
a perfect silhouette
A fantail shuffle
a slide-step past the moonlight
your finest top-shelf anything really
may your night be forever early
Chagall 2015
In this more recent age
of high-tech thievery and thuggery
I find myself more and more
missing my grandma, simpler days.
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 