Remember that Valentine’s Day is just around that bend of time we are calling The Weekend. Love to all. —CC
Must love be a foregone conclusion
that precedes the need for dark-chocolate cherry cordials
or do those magnificent trifles warrant a daily place in our lives
independent of any lofty notions like love?
Chagall 2016
I find I
am torn
perforated
ripped along
dotted lines
Someday
I will
reassemble
sans
seams
© Chagall 2017
Sometime when I go to steal away
yet another piece of banana cake,
I find that one precedes me and
leaves behind a healthy half-slab.
I chase each bite with a small palmful
of dark chocolate bits. I feel theobromine
envelop my being. Look out world, I’m in love!
© Chagall 2017
Snow, an extended heaven-sent sigh
expresses its passion as a function
of the angle of its fall; precipitation
begat and chilled by the wind, a fluttery
jitterbug afoot overhead. My scarf wraps
twice to warm me, beguiled amid words that
form between flakes, they speak you know –
to warn me there just ahead is a hand
reaches out to embrace but the space between,
the chasm divide is too great, still we blow,
still we fall to the ground, a powder, a mist
slowly wisps away in time, nestled deep in the throes,
in our throwaway wraparound world we propel ourselves
deeper each time we fall, backwards off-stage I trust
you’ll catch me never let me fall,
I would break along dotted lines …
snow from afar
each little star
is snow.
© Chagall 2017
This past election day
I voted neither red nor blue
but instead prayed for
the rebirth of the cool, for
Nefertiti, and in my own silent way
cast my write-in vote for
Sir Miles Dewey Davis III,
with John Coltrane and Bill Evans
as VP and Sec of State, respectively.
© Chagall 2017
Love you all. Enjoy.
Chagall
Today while reading Figure and Ground, I highlight
passages that I do not want to remember.
© Chagall 2017
The little horse has passed, still her harness bells summon
snowfalls shared, quiet leas, and the long dark nights of winter.
© Chagall 2017
She loved Frost but was less equivocal about the end,
choosing water over fire and ice.
© Chagall 2017
For Us all. —Chagall
The light is perfect here
color soaks the moment
I see small dots of life
everywhere there is lavender
the brush is more patient than I
to render its impression
of God and time
I am immersed in Peace
despite profound disturbance
in the pointillism
the fabric must be mended
that bears the barbarism –
humanity and sane gentle minds
must once again conceive the canvas
we must wake up and smell the carbon
inhale the stars as one people we exhale
a single cry that is our lot
vis-à-vis the vast endless other
rather one another
warm, musky Friday nights
amour all around as it should be amour
lights, everywhere lights
gypsy jazz and a pack of Gitanes
i am jean Paul belmondo I scream from the water
startled bouquinistes and Dominique
et tout le monde est triste et ils me manquent
but my english is pretty good, just…
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Alphabet City 