Archive for January, 2022

Going Home

I don't know how many suns have been born,
or have died since you arrived here before me,
I'd wager none at all, but if indeed infinity then
perhaps suns appear and sputter-out every day

Suns as stars, one the same, upon which we wish,
we may and might tonight, plead to come true, to make right

Flat on my back I fall,
airily up I float

in mid-air my ascent traces angels

cc: Chagall 2022

"...we get on average about one new star per year, and one star dying each year as a planetary nebula in the Milky Way. These rates are different in different types of galaxies, but you can say that this is roughly the average over all galaxies in the Universe. We estimate at about 100 billion the number of galaxies in the observable Universe, therefore there are about 100 billion stars being born and dying each year, which corresponds to about 275 million per day, in the whole observable Universe."

Cornell University 2015; Santonge, Amelie; accessed 31 January 2022;


Sometimes I will be the low note,
by that I don't mean lack of highlight,
musically speaking here, now

I express different thoughts when bass, 
not so basso, just warm, full-bodied, 
diffused round myopic on the ears

Unwavering quavers go boom,
and Om, and oh my

When I'm alto I'm me,
exhale on the note you are
most comfortably

Up never-too-high, just up too late
tonight, I try to find voice in the voices

...too much tension in the upper partials,
thick muddy crescendos and diminuendos,
cascades down upcoming rivulets, as I
live and breathe inside this roil

In the end, as in the beginning, there will 
only be static, a hum 

cc: Chagall 2022

An Act in Two Plays

Play I
Naked under blanket, 
Brielle, bottle of bourbon, 
watch a beautiful snowfall



soft sputter
atop sledders

colors brighter
than voices fade

always above rooftops
salty crisp snow-air

noel, noel, noel
like a bell chimes

the world needn't be more than simply thus,
a toast to us, Brielle says to no one

Play II
her neighbors light at night 
is a hearth upon which her heart rests

her soul gazes long into its distant warmth, 
an impression, snow-rendered golden pointillé

cc: Chagall 2022


Every addict
seeks infinity

cc: Chagall 2022

Twice Baked

I was late.

I stared at the clock
on the stove:

No way 
I was going
to make it.

cc: Chagall 2022
You who mess with my mind, there in gray,
leave my archetypes alone, those are inviolate

cc: Chagall 2022

Till September

The smallest buds on the family tree
flowerless blooms imperfectly fractal,
mere inconsequential relationships
that bear no fruit for us all to link to,
no perpetuation of the surname,
but so much love that summer, cut so short,
flourishes till today, nourished by roots
leading from two infinities, their path 
ahead is forever upward, sky wood,
sun-baked bark against which lovers shall lean,
in a storm, any tree will have to do

cc: Chagall 2022

Memories at random erupt
the long buried

It is easy to hide,
a nod to elsewhere

All that broke us 
causes the weep

cc: Chagall 2022

Supple Plants

I gathered my houseplants around, and 
explained to them the good and the bad, how I would 
potentially neglect them at times, or spoil them because
love makes you spoil things you love, they could
go parched for days or feel suddenly waterboarded, but they could 
laze in glorious sun, and I would
prune and fuss over them, and 
assure their nutrition, and
help them propagate, and 
talk with them

cc: Chagall 2021

GMT+2, or: In the Mean Time

I am very proud to post here a collaboration between two talented poets: 
David ben Alexander and Michael Simonelli.  

Their poem "GMT+2, or: In the Mean Time"
is in the form of a Chagallian loku.  

David & Michael, thank you for your support.   ---CC

GMT+2, or: In the Mean Time
Jerusalem taupe,
winter khamsin northward streams dark sands through our glass,
one sand pebble left in the clock’s tapered shadow,
sere wind breaks our wing

somewhere now where God rests
dunes caress with downy fill, eternal grains here,
graceful echelon, mosaics carved, rarefied
stars align to coasts

the world from the clouds,
squiggly fractal boundaries in between people,
morning groggy-eyed sunrise through stretched acrylic
grounded in promise

directional signs,
herd animals jostle on, can’t forget baggage,
travelators scoot well past the red-eye's runway,
each with life in tow

sandstorm rocks taxi,
clouds all that is visible, the expectant shift,
meter stops running, zero beats to the measure,
vantage no longer

family concern,
guests gather at synagogue, Tel Aviv sunset,
the anxious await break of accident reports,
frozen winter dreams

Eilat in winter:
warm honeymoon on Red Sea, chilly salt water
waves, oceanic time curves around large bodies
at scale, we’re smallest

rare snowfall settles,
Israeli children cheer, sheer slush by morning
cold rains bring green, sprouts, plants, blooms, before springtime warmth,
allergy triggers

spring still comes each year,
rebirth, salted brine-gray fog, pied balloons aloft

David ben Alexander & Michael Simonelli, 2022
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