Summer, 1963, 13th Street between Avenues A & B, across from the A&P
Old man scrapes cherry-lemon-chocolate ice, dime scoops, youth, starched white cups.
© Chagall 2013
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Originally posted on SEPT 4, 2013. Hoping your holidays are wonderful. —Carlos
Simple
and
deep
I
would
rather
be
versus the alternative of then otherwise having to be complex and shallow.
© Chagall 2013
She always comes and goes
Late at night, then early morning
Stays the shortest time she needs
A gasp, a sharp intake of breath
She holds, though I’ve never heard her release
© Chagall 2013
i knew a new writer
who blogged today
wordpress can’t keep up
with millions
from far and wee
who toggle
the like button fandango
ocherlicious delight
in the upper right
for edward estlin
cummings
i.e.
e.e.
© Chagall 2013
Originally posted on SEPT 29, 2013. —Chagall
It’s a simple story really
about a girl who could fly
and did so well
until that day
she fluttered and fell
too close to the sea
and is trapped ever since
at the crest of its waves
held there by surface tension . . .
© Chagall, 2013
You once danced in perfect dark,
with no eye to discern the grace of form,
nothing shone on passion for Terpsichore,
your body yearned, stark figure on ground, unseen aloft
in space for no one but you, in wait to unveil the inward glow,
before the birth of sight and no one was, there was promenade and cabriole.
© Chagall 2013
Rain sounds massage me
each wet gurgle a bubble
dropped hollow echoes
© Chagall 2013
Forest rains pour down
to wash human scent away
wild life rejoices
© Chagall 2013
We are troubadours, vamps,
poets and scamps,
Shakespeares, Anaïs Nins
Ginsbergs, Plaths, Nerudas
oh my!
Oh my goodness, another idea, quickly
My blog, new post . . .
Let it flow,
convey the sounds, the rhythms
that beat inside
Deliver me;
bring me
the head
of an avatar
© Chagall 2013
Alphabet City 