So far from Eden No single soul who shows love All the gates are closed cc: Chagall 2021
Latest Entries »
subliminal incantations rapid and vapid impervious legislation daringly uncaring cosmological perturbation no place is alee nor free of debris see? listen to the fabric rip this is a new kind of trip we're on And we're off to see the Wizard, the wonderfully wizened, the neo-enlightened, the dumbstruck, the blinded, the absent-minded half of the Haves that got caught blind-sided foresight is 20/20 and hindsight is merely erased four scores and I'll have enough to leave this place behind what's your problem? now, you never mind see this face? you keep your place watch your step on the stairway to the stars I've heard there are spots where the banister breaks and the landings give way to freefall cc: Carlos Chagall 2021
remember when we were crazy, when fireflies flew frenzied flight in fields at night, so far away and long ago, once the pleasure of foolish folly, tumbles down green incline to rest rapt in your arms face-down to the ground, inhaling the earth, spying small life we found there, the tickle of a blade of grass that grew there, kisses stolen propped on elbows, bodies contoured to the lay of the land, our cordoned off slice of life all the world was a dome above the firmaments below our vantage on a branch overlooking tranquility, will we ever coo again? cc: Chagall 2021
when I was a child I would often awaken in the middle of the night to a world that had slowed time would take on a macabre dimension, a drawl I felt as if moving through syrup with a voice not my own inside my head, more a sense of a presence, a grinning, derisive entity that hovered inside me and I would call my Mom and she would soothe me, we'd sit at the kitchen table, she smoking a cigarette wearily, while I would wait for the feeling to pass later in life I would rest on the couch regularly, mid-day after school, and successfully will myself to exit my body, float into the kitchen and bounce above the cabinets there one time I turned my attention outside and knocked over a trash can that sat at the curb awaiting pickup now I find I am anticipating correctly things that are about to happen, sending people mirrors of their own texts at precisely the moment they send me theirs, as demonstrated numerous times these past days friends are forever saying "you must've read my mind..." I am again in slow time, afloat and prescient Chagall 2021
Before we rely on intelligence of the artificial sort to ruin our lives, shouldn't we assure ourselves that we have sufficient quantity of the natural kind on which to found it? Chagall 2021
the acidity of the supper rips her supple lips to pieces but a daub of care, a sweeping tongue there, makes her fine Chagall 2021
I am startled by reflections in glass, exciting further reflections once I am once removed I am no longer the shortest distance between two points is today a jagged line I curate my catalog of memories and that of my dreams into a single volume in time for the burning but out of step with the geese I go deep underground to make love with mycorrhizae as sad as I I used to be a fun guy Chagall 2021
The noise is deafening; startled, I run to see There strewn about the hallowed ground, injured and writhing, a host of better angels Chagall 2021
I can't keep track of whom I'm mourning, too many leaving too quickly, a chorus forgotten, faces overlap in my heart, small souvenirs, mementos in cameo, loved ones in bit-parts I waited lifetimes to see and now they're gone disappeared, slipped away, sound bytes on my inner ear without replay deep below my eyes I fall forever inward there is a downpour in the hollow of my body, the distant thunder close now despite the faded rumble the evaporating shimmer, the last vestige of having been heard, head down, shoulders resigned to the weight, the compression of billions of light years atop the spine, energy density, kinetic wherewithal, frenetic withdrawal where is everybody going? better don't take me with you - without me who would remain for you to be missed? on the face of the water the air must remain perfectly still for You to be mist more than a smoke ring, an eternal cloud of whimsy in search of reenactment reanimation rebirth life anew cc: CC 2021 Written for dearest Norman, Lottie, Ginny, Tricia, Arthur, Carol, and Kelly Until we meet again - ci vediamo
Alphabet City 