Celebrating the wonder of Saturday mornings. Peace & Love. CC
Fine-grade Turquoise, tumble finished
as a young girl she’d nestle
winds on the surface
French for Turkish, you know
she grew older, released
light chemical elements
even the finest is fracturable
© Chagall 2014
Young sad girl on a train
she’s watching
Towns and worlds
go by
Speed her away
Through misted window
sun streaks
She shifts so her front’s
to the past
Her back yet
to the wall
She’s pulled now
no longer pushed
Sound upon motion
after all
Alone,
she speeds her away
Chagall 2015
Awash in a a wail of church bells slurring blue
hog call whistle stops blowing the rattle
of rails amid home-bound ruckus
these trains keep on chugging chugging
across the country so wide and so green and so lovely
once free how I need to be free once more till
the end of all time I’ll be free despite all
who are crazy to believe they’ll curtail
me be free without fight flight or fancy
I will die for the same lands my daddy died for
on the sands at the foot of some mountain
Chagall 2015
I love Friday nights
I think they deserve
more than their 14%
weekly allotment
Chagall 2015
Happy reblog Friday. Hoping your pizza is hot and your demeanor’s cool. Love & Peace to all of the World – if only my just saying would make it so. —Carlos
appear like droplets of mercury
the you at the door
one stands out, lush and
the you now
appear to be smaller drops within
all is flux
begins a gradual
not the same final day
slide from the leaf
you know me then
simply changed place
there on the blades
of grass. Again, a single bead
where I’ve gone
but wonder
© Chagall 2014
Droplets
crystalline
tone
so quiet here
snow underfoot
crunch stones
of ice
quite pious here
light
astigmatic
stars
halos awash
in twilight
breathless, yet see
how my breath escapes me
I am frozen regaled
in powder-blue night
Chagall 2015
Crisp incessant smacks across faces
then tears flow deliciously lips
lick my lashes
leaving me only
more lonely than now
She waits in style for moments to gather
her future is wrapped in red sash
or maybe her past
peeks through
There it goes again
on the breeze when suddenly
I drop
Dizzy in spirals
from heights attained glory
repeating some wordy world view
Wouldn’t you?
Coo-ka-choo
Tangled in branches
snarled in the bramble
I scurry to the roar of the falls
Aqueous foam
it’s oxygen-rich here
massive turbulence
magnetic churn of moon tides
I will not
hold on
I will not restrain
the flow
I will plummet headfirst
ride the scree like an aquanaut
I pray to be crushed
under oceans of water
reborn in a niched quiet eddy
on my back in warm sunlight
I croon
with these long extinct birds
Chagall 2015
It’s a two-player game
and the rules – she said – are few
Existentialists make it true,
find at least one who does
While universalists search
for the one who doesn’t
I kissed her goodbye, expressionless
humbled, ignorant
Propositionally speaking,
this was bound to happen,
proof by exhaustion
But man do I miss her cooking!
Chagall 2015
On guitar I played phrases
turned and inverted to prove
my love soars more than melody
Beyond that I can’t even
begin to remember
Uncertain where dulcet
turns somber
turn, dip, samba sways,
more nighttime, these
dazes, I stagger
Arpeggios of frozen air
trickle, trip, keep trickling
tickling my mouth, merging with spirit
erupting in steel
Solid steel
I am
immovable. I
am . . .
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 