Alphabet City

the flow of the underground river
runs contrary to the uphill rise at the surface

the land belies hidden contours that give life

a calmer estuary pastures a small flock,
drink comes from below, a bubbling gurgle

we thrive in coves, in inlets
where sun and wind and salt and air 
are captured perfectly

old and faded is
old and faded in 
sunlight pretending
to be new again

the heart rides many waves,
water, air, time, the path of our gaze
into another's eyes

each jolt of recognition found there
proclaims affirmatively
I am
- though these sometimes are lost

jostled about in the fray,
you and me

I have a dear neighbor I call to 
when I need to hear her perfect tone

we scutter about over seashells
on the seashore doing sambas in the surf

sometimes in sunlight, often in starlight,
oh, how we sway and sashay

we belie 
the stillness 

cc: Chagall 2021

The more you grow,
the less you leave behind

cc: Chagall 2021

on days when my mom gave me a dollar bill - for spending,
and a tissue - for blowing into (just in case), 
she'd also advise not to put them both 
into the same pocket

I once heard my grandfather posit that 
a friendly rival of his should be buried standing up,
a prayer - I guess - for eternal cramping of the calves?

my grandmother made everything germinate on her windowsill, 
even apricot stones and pineapple tops

my mom's younger brother, my Uncle,
learned to run between raindrops
while aboard ship in the Navy

he could light a Zippo in full headwind

he was on the water looking into Iwo Jima
while my Dad was face-down in its black volcanic sand

spearhead battalions
Marines atop aquatic vehicles

if not for 2 older sisters and a miscarried boy,
who would have been my older brother, but not the oldest,
I would not be here

meaning there was incentive for my parents
to give it one more try - have a boy

keep at it 
my father's father came to my mother in a dream,
he died a month before she gave birth to me, and said
You will have the boy, and Millie will have the girl

as if some prophecy were coming to bear on the world

once my Dad threw a rubber ball 
into the sky, so high

and it hung there for moments,
the most beautiful pink
against blue

cc: Chagall 2021

So motivated was I to see my granddaughter and her offspring grow old,
that I resolved to live for two hundred years, setting my mind, my heart,
and my spirit goals, on a specific - albeit distant - day in the future.

A daily, if not hourly, reaffirmation of this - live, live a long time - 
advises the cells of the proper pace with which to advance,
slow down, we've got a ways yet to go

You must set the proper expectation for yourself, for example:
Once upon a time, I aspired to live to be 100 years old.  
I was born in 1957, and so I targeted 2057 as my horizon.  
Then one day, after considering my granddaughter and 
wanting to see her as an 80-year old, and her children, 
I realized that living to 100 would be inadequate to accomplish that.
I picked 2100 as my new horizon.

Everyday, every hour, I acknowledge 2100 as the target

Psychologically it readies me
and makes cohesive all of my subconscious 
and unconscious systems

the we that is me are all pulling in line to make 2100 happen

A 60-year old with a life expectation of 100 is 60% of the way there,
while a 60-year old intending to party at 143, is only 42% along.

So we consider our self less than halfway there

Our telomeres will oblige us,
I am certain

you'll see

cc: Chagall 2021

I find that the blue dream
only takes me so far

cc: Chagall 2021

There's no story really

one day, it was just cold in the band room, and I yelled out
turn up the the heat, let's get warm, let's rock
and we all sort of looked at each other and 
we tuned up and that's pretty much
how the song was born

cc: Chagall 2021

Ironically,
she was unequivocally
of two minds

cc: Chagall 2021