Bi-planes above us under
low-blue ceiling, I wonder
if they’re from our time.
© Chagall 2015
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I’m not saying step away,
I’m saying step back a bit
and give us both room to breathe.
© Chagall 2015
Make it so hot
that it’s not
just ahh
but Oh!
© Chagall 2015
Endless possibility filled the moment
(which happened to be morning) sun
baked me dry and timeless so I became
one with the sky so far
above the ground I hover, delight
in my self now not at all
sad to lose it.
© Chagall 2015
I’m not certain
that my unhappiness
over your sadness
and my desire for you
to be nothing but happy
is really the same
as loving you
© Chagall 2015
I only live to love you,
certainly not to be served
and so it hurts to go on like this.
I only live to love you
and to heal.
© Chagall 2015
Not a parent nor a prince,
neither president or king,
ones lover not-self
but God.
© Chagall 2015
The stones I leave at the gate
can be used to trace new paths
or bar access to the existing.
Place them accordingly – you decide.
© Chagall 2015
We only had words, no meaning,
long liturgical drones,
endless hours, sonorous
dirge-like ponders, attempts
to reveal the roiling core
of our humanity, of love as ground
for creation, essentially to invert,
to feel likewise on the inside,
overlooking already being
once removed from having once felt,
a mist on the face of the water.
© Chagall 2015
They left me alone
to see if I’d take
a cookie, but I didn’t
so I fooled them. I know
a setup when I see one.
© Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 