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spider web hangs like a static wisp of smoke
in the corner up high, left of the screen door

bi-plane buzzes overhead, pulls a sign says
welcome to the new day

everywhere bells
greet suns

freshly birthed

Chagall 2019


Tip 11

Want to be a good gardener?
Listen to the plant:
it will scream and point,
…please cut me here.

Chagall 2019

Once Upon a 4th of July

The lake is dark and placid,
the dock across the way is lined
with red and blue lights
shifting patterns reflected
on the water, reminds me
of far-away, and I am alone
wondering where all of you
have gone, those who stayed-
up all night, buzzed, filled
with thought and talk, excited
to be, alive, anticipation,
the next throb, the heart,
the soft touch of lips inverting
the mind and time, I yearn for
the endless night that was,
alone here alongside the water.

Chagall 2019


I’d performed more than half my routine
long before mid-morning, and still she hadn’t left.

Chagall 2019

The Forever Sieve

I wondered
if there was
I was
to omit

focused on
the small things
so big things
weren’t real

the soothed buzz
of an open field

sun drenches

the emanation
of light
consumes me

is me

water balloon

inside releases

and now no need
for finer details

no no-more
any more

Chagall 2019

Sleepin’ In

She said
At the count of three
I will snap my fingers
and you will awake

At 2, she was struck dead.

Chagall 2019


Watermelon never so sweet as
the drink I make of her

Chagall 2019

Balance on a beam,
a palmful of light tossed aside
for ballast, I’m steady and fast
on the rail

With chin upturned
I pirouette on-toe,
en pointe I stretch
luxuriously long in-line with the length of the bar

Sun-rays bake my neck and back,
I’m a shadow against the wood-plank floor,
sprawling unwieldy without form,
but sharp – distinct – in the cool shadow of profile

Time does more than merely etch my being
against the ground of all that is,
it renders me a tear

The melody forever ascends
in broader intervals,
amid greater interims;
I anticipate the caress of each new lilt

Duet up the beach plays Jobim

Chagall 2019

I refuse to look at the sky tonight –
same old story – planes, dead stars, pitted moons,
motivates me to write timeworn tunes to the lovelorn,
pines how the heart takes flight

metaphysical, dark versus light,
sometimes fare about babes and June
frolics among flowers, the springtime bloom,
even angels on high, lost souls burning brightly

Instead this evening I plan to ascend,
arise from the planet when bells whisper midnight,
leave earth behind (I will miss you old friend)
my direction is up, two lefts…
then right when you ponder the sky this eve
you’ll see the newest constellation called Chagallus
know that it’s me

© Carlos Chagall, 2013, 2019


my old friend,
will I see you
the next time around?

Chagall 2019

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