Archive for May, 2021

Ein Sof

it exists
not in any way

you imagine


plain as day's
crystal night


before you
within you




cc: Chagall 2021

Rainy Weekend Blues

I make a palindrome turn around, baby,
jump right back and repeat itself

(little blues fill here)

I was tongue-tied once to the bed,
tickled thoroughly through-and-through
till I talked 

Till I bled
On Fridays I put synonym in my coffee,
sugar in my tease, homonymically speaking,
I drink it down with ease

(descending dominant 7th arpeggios
into final major)

oh yeah!

rain, rain, go away...

cc: Chagall 

I Even See Indigo

With my watering wand set to Mist, angled to morning sun,
I shape miniature rainbows at will on the fly
over the bluestone dianthus

cc: Chagall 2021

Hey 19!

She did not know 
John Barleycorn Must Die,
nor the effects of tire tracks
across one's back (I can see you had your fun!)

...and so my signals turned from green to red

cc: Chagall 2021

Hold That…Don’t Move

If I was to paint the scene before me,
I would choose a palette of water
in various states of decay, to capture
the aqueous blur of figure and ground

I would need to impart to you
the sense of immersion
but not of drowning

air amniotic

shouldn't my hands be
in every painting?

I lose sense sometimes that
the rectangle before me continues
beyond the frame

they say that 
the world behind you 
does not exist

something to do
with the collapse
of things quantum

once my back
was her front

behind a spooning couple
the world and its reality are twice rebuked

I used my palette to paint her world,
now somewhere she's lost in mine

cc: Chagall 2021

The Scent of Chlorine and Coconut

I am at the pool early,
to get a spot with table and umbrella,
like we used to

but the tables are all gone

where we'd play cribbage for hours
over coladas and Marys (both bloody and virgin)

our laughter about His Nobs

the clown face through which  
you emerged the water slide, gliding 
feet-first, hands tucked to navel, 
is now painted over

the sunlight, though,
is precisely the same

in an old paperback I packed,
I find a folded bar-menu
from that day

cc: Chagall 2021

Once More Bobby Socks

I stare into the bowl of my sourdough culture
and recognize the thriving community it is

I imagine a microscopic Paramount Theater there in the mix and
a sourdough entity (Sinatra-like) singing his little heart out 
to an audience of swooning Lactobacillus
who feed on floating rye flour

cc: Chagall 2021

Alla Breve

I wish we'd had more time, son -
another chorus, another round,
a chance to make music again

Time moves too quickly
to the coda

Let's play it from the top, 
one last time with feeling - con gusto - 
while you solo, quietly I will sidle away

cc: Chagall 2021

No Blues, (Please) Refrain

I cannot tell a lie (baby)
but when I chop the cherry tree down
there ain't no sound

I travel faster than the speed of light (baby)
I'll be back before I'm gone

cc: Chagall 2021

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