In a dream about 1967, inside Tompkins Square Park looking out towards Avenue A
My Dad’s at the bus, has a Daily News, turns, then waves to me and smiles.
Tag Archive: Alphabet City
There is ceremony in stirring your lashes
with soft breath and stealth kiss,
I would just miss your lips and gently nudge
my chin into the soft of your cheek,
then press till I floated away.
© Chagall 2014
I will see you again despite not having eyes,
hold you tight lacking hands; I will always need you.
I hear your song but I miss your sigh,
you among the flowers, the sweetest gentian,
I will always kiss you.
I still feel your drop in the rain.
© Chagall 2014
She comes across grace, the way that she flows
in gowns, down stairs, through life,
utterly in love with fascination of love.
Minor chords fade to dissonant
whispers that barely touch nothing
at the end where time goes silent;
a puff of black.
I would rather she fade
to indigo.
© Chagall 2014
Her love roots in pity
so her partners once healed
suffer her leaving to prompt her return.
© Chagall 2014
Winter is busy, transitions the year. Odd though, the night is warm
enough to stir loamy aroma, sings to summer gone, woeful melody.
In harmony twice, in song with the wind I’m chimes, a tubular bell,
a partner in gleeful percussion, emitting nothing but round humble tones.
© Chagall 2014
The ages have witnessed beautiful people
whose eyes well with love and feeling,
in their presence we sense all that life can be,
the heights to which human spirit can soar
without feet ever leaving ground.
I’ve basked in the glow of at least one,
unconditional acceptance enabled me to live
to the fullest, to explore the edges to find
the frilly nuance and tatted lace of being
at the fringe, forestalling the unravel just long enough
to allow the heart to emerge.
They pass like the rest, go without so much
as a fanfare or salute, dissolved in a void
that is the better for our loss, though we shall never recover,
they reappear as constellations, hot suns against cold night sky
to guide us on our journeys.
© Chagall 2014
Haiku, constrained words
Arrhythmic rigor profound
Words unveil haiku
© Chagall 2014
All is said and done,
time has run down,
slow dancers, soft steps
trespass in style without smiles,
guileful pliés leave me unamused.
© Chagall 2014
We are silent,
not because we’ve nothing to say,
simply we’d said too much.
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 