I am not Carlos
nor am I the person
who pretends to be
Carlos. She is not
me, I tell myself
I’m not like her,
of the haunting grin,
with seeming knowledge
of my delicate whispers,
scribed by her spectral hand.
© Chagall 2015
Tag Archive: consciousness
Irrepressible
This urge to keep on breathing
Yet another day
© Chagall 2015
Let’s all do this once more with feeling,
avoid the sidesteps askew to the point.
I don’t yet have automata down pat
quite enough to divert my mind away.
© Chagall 2014
The bells of the new day joyously ring –
correction, triumphantly rang! – while
cold winds swept the whitest clouds
to the threshold of endless azure
and they and I in echelon bank hard
in a yaw and vertical dive till
ceremoniously, in quiet accord we right
to the ringing bells
© Chagall 2014
How odd the stars that burn so hot
can wink, demure, so cold
I am warmed by the faces
of so many moons
More real than the lights
of jet planes
These nights I find
I slow down seeking free fall
Up, so I float
without need to ever
look down
© Chagall 2014
Maybe it’s not the words we lack
but the keenest sense of what to feel.
© 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 question they posed
was given one cloth
would you wipe from
clean to dirt?
© Chagall 2014
They said in time all things would heal
still I journey to get out of time
I’m a scant glance askew sidled by its door
awaiting it to open
To slip stealthily through
at no time
© Chagall 2014
You’d take me for a ride,
how I loved when you took me for a ride.
You saved me once,
I’ve savored your being,
when you loved me
it slips away you said –
how I loved when it didn’t slip away.
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 