Assorted somnambulists are dropping by
to wish me pleasant dreams.
© Chagall 2015

I raise my arm,
again and again
and then I raise it
a third time
From whence
does
that
signal
flow?
I seek out
the Commander
the one who barks
the order
and find her easily
nearby at the helm
yelling Raise It!
But what happens next
I can’t discern
the work of that motor
eludes me
I assume a small band
of gypsy synapse
lights up and plays jazz
’round the fires
of my heart
and I raise my arm
on the prominent
upbeat
So much of life
is mindless I
in surrender to
the Mindful
© Chagall 2014

an opus deserves
a thorough read
not some topical
nod
on the surface
it appears
a no-thing
you’ll comprehend
perhaps it’s really
beyond you
in a manner you’ll decide
is beneath you
ignore it
feel free even
to revile
like sonar
sweeps your landscape
peruse the depths
of your charge
walk the waterfront
of your longing
till you fail
to tell
the difference
between the things you need
and the storm about
to dash
your head
adrift
you are
awash
are you
awake?
© Chagall, 2013

I am nothing
if not existent,
bewildered
when I don’t see plainly,
omega
right from the start,
sunlight
over my shadows,
rain
to quench the sere,
drought
in the aftermath of flood;
I am
essentially that.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013