The curtain is parted as she’d left it,
worlds continue passing by.
© Chagall 2016
Tag Archive: dream
The shaman’s
a scam and
the sandman
knows it!
Chagall 2016
She handed me an oar
pointing to the small dugout
there on the bank
Row briskly
downstream
warily
God is
real
Life is naught –
a dream
Chagall 2016
The poems I write are like
the dollar bets my grandmother made
everyday needing something
to ride on
Chagall 2016
My heart, adept at somersaults,
sticks the perfect landing.
The pain in my knees though tells me that
it’s not that long till fall.
So tape me up
to brace me tight
in time for another go.
Madly to the springboard
without stopping to plant
I soar of my own desire.
I emulate feathers floating
till ground.
To lie there
spying clouds move
up and down as well as left and right.
In motion emotionally always
forever truly yours.
Chagall 2016
In my dream my father removes his tie
and hands it to me saying
Merry Christmas C
I take it from him folding it gently
in half, the silk rough to the touch
I ask him
Is there a heaven, Dad?
He smiles, we embrace,
his cheek smoother than I’d imagined
and before he can answer, he’s gone
Chagall 2015
Eyes grow heavy, my mind wanders to the edge
of that time when white lace curtains blew
on a gentle breeze, I step out the door, a porch
suspended on the edge of a cloud for a portico
crunchy like snow, the others dive, I’m game but
such a long way down, instead I hesitate
missing them as they leap one by one,
I run after the small lost dog and slip on the mud
that the snow has become, I surf while she watches
not falling but staining the back of my pants
in a low crouch, the other says that’s the song
and I say that’s the same one you asked about yesterday,
that’s what’s-her-name, and in the dream I tell her
that I dreamed about her, already wrapped up beyond
and tangled in the fray.
© Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 