Advance humbly;
we all were once
squiggly beings.
© Chagall 2016
Archive for September, 2016
The gaze paints a portrait of
you, lilac and oceanic.
Room-light a dying candle
– the last flame licked, wisps of smoke … the wick –
flutters then dies in evening wind.
The house is dark
save pinholes of stars
where once were windows.
I float here easy as I do
sand or water. Dancing
blue-white as moonlight on snow.
And everywhere, everybody, everything
seems to hum
om.
© Chagall 2016
Maybe just nature
More than anything demands
Love, respect, our fear
© Chagall 2016
Conflicted today about what to write:
a new star born in the stingray nebula or
my father and I in a photo younger
than my children are today.
Astronomers say the star expanded due to a helium flash,
“…back to giant dimensions: the born again scenario.”
Through the Hubble telescope I can see my dad
swim upon ripples of time, breathe between strokes,
expertly gulping air.
Suns by day are stars by night depending where you are.
© Chagall 2016
see
ghosts flee
these fields
lavender
notwithstanding
hear the elders
spoke
words melt
ignorant wisps
away
I am yet
not fulfilled
here this place
unknown
© Chagall 2016
The sounds of night
linger and stray
into morning
This is not
real light
I’m aware
Too faded
perhaps
too bright
Too soon
the day
breaks
The day
brakes
Time slows
I enumerate
each passing
thing
One by
one
I am lost
in implicate order
Purely
of my own design
© Chagall 2016
The universe is staging
a trillion-photon march on creation
to show us how solidarity’s done
Anywhere that light is
that’s where you’ll find me
© Chagall 2016
Warning: Must be 10 years of age or older to read this post
Act 1
Kneed in the balls.
Act 2
Need in the balls.
Act 3
Kneading the balls.
Coming soon: If sands or butts
© Chagall 2016
Consider that
there is
no God
All birds sing
of their own
volition
Albeit
a sadder tune
There is
no echo
nor refrain
No joyous
hallelujah
A lonely lilt
on empty branch
© Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 