Out of time, mind, milk, and money;
can you take me please to the store?
Chagall 2019
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Category: Poetry
Static – the new day
insects and birds rise to greet suns birthed everywhere
inner ears tickle the first time sounds like water
echo there in caves
No words for color
regions of my body burn just as god intends
minty oxygen invigorates my being
a pinch now and then
We grow outside-in
win or lose the games we dare to risk all of it
late morning near noon the days’ crossroads are many
so worlds come prepared
Sleep’s long swept away
the heart of the day absorbs strong light from above
dirt and rain combine to break down all of the lush
covered seed split open
What doesn’t grow right
gets discarded but in time heals perfectly flawed
singularities for the poets to ponder
for painters to feign
We crawl then we fly
cry out loud above the rest our forgotten calls
in dappled clearings we romp under heavy falls
bathe in cold cascades
Evening comes sudden
sneaks up too quickly this time she and I are here
a kiss in twilight is often all it will take
is all it will give
I cherish worn trails
angled from vanishing points so far behind us
happenstance a crowd where a billion faces search
but only two find
Irrepressible
this urge to resist dying until tomorrow
Chagall 2013
There’s not a single red star
that’s yet died
Chagall 2019
When she was a child we played a game:
we pretend to be high on a cliff at the edge
losing grip – our footing – we plummet
down off the bed, from Everest
At the last minute grabbing hands in mid-air
– in outstretched rescue every sinew, each muscle
straining to hold onto life
She writes that it’s readied her well for the fight,
she loves me, it’s time to let go
Chagall – 2015, revised for 2019
From the cliff Julia guides the anemone
fluorescence to write her name in the sea
If only people knew
she ponders
Chagall 2019
I punch at the air,
thinking I’ll knock
some sense into it, so
I swing and I miss and
instead catch myself
on the chin.
Chagall 2019
Sweeping the cutting room floor I find
sweet snippets of verse about you
Chagall 2019
The dead, in the life of night,
parade among toppled stones,
incite the dance from below
to rhythm scored by moonlight
A lullaby
for days gone
Reel and waltz, ye phantoms!
Pirouette nimbly sublime
among raked rocks, fading candles
lit by wistful prayer
In time time ceases
Out of time
Chagall 2019
My abdomen bulges
from internal pressure
I exert to convince
you of things plainly so.
Chagall 2018
If ever I end up
in a hospital room
awaiting my final hour,
break me out.
Let’s have one last adventure.
I would rather die sloppily in my own backyard
staring at your face, then neatly in some sterile room
without you.
Love, Chagall – 2019
