Once in a shadow I rose
to greet an inquisitive sun,
yawned and stretched a while
to bask in its hot-white heat
before settling back down
to darkness.
Chagall 2015
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Ever go back and read something that you don’t even recognize as your own? Here’s one of those. 🙂 Happy reblog Friday. Peace & Love —Chagall
She said she liked to trace her heart
against sparser white tufts, her etched lines
of cursive flues, hollowed deep and grooved
tight tucks over moguls, small drops to earth
each time gravity curves she bends molten streams
over time embossed so apropos of moments come, but not
whether she’s gone – she’s no time for that.
© Chagall 2015
Here.
I made this for you.
A bouquet of scented words.
Chagall 2015
Merely an experimental malaise
spiraling numbly, likewise nimbly
the lame slither askew off the walkway
while naked dancers waltz precariously
too close to be social.
Chagall 2015
I am screaming inside the wind tunnel
My fear a step before me always
I slide away down the aileron
I think I’ve eluded it but it’s there
Suddenly the diameter about me shrinks
I’m as stuck and clogged as I’m inside-out
Flapping rapidly a flag on a pole
I relish the maniacal cold tornado forming
Concentric debris pellets my froth
I am squeezed to projectile blessed to be carbon
Chagall 2015
The gods came out of the water, paired in twos,
steam rising, their bodies already dry,
strong intent awake in their eyes, sacred defiance,
twins regaled in silk and gentian, he and she
beginning to copulate right there on the shore,
begetting each a greater God before perishing,
leaving the spawned throng of the heavens there
alone on the sand, arching, rearing, and bellowing.
And so was Day 1.
© Chagall 2015
Did you see that?
It just flew by –
I’m pretty sure
it was life!
© Chagall 2015
I’m lazy tonight yet I want,
needy for quiet lethargy,
please love and allow me
to rest my head right here –
the scented nearness of you
is my universe, a place I yearn
incessantly.
© Chagall 2015
He from the shower all clean
and I from the garden quite sweaty, we . . .
did the gate just click shut?
© Chagall 2015
With little water for many weeks, today I found a small cactus
sprouted soft and smooth-skinned tendrils, still green, alive
like the curly hair of a young child, the candy-apple scent of talc
behind the ears, so many years ago; I gaze at it here on my palm
and hope it remains evergreen.
© Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 