Tag Archive: Earth


Brokenhearted

I dropped my son and his girl off
at JFK Airport last night for their
after-midnight flight to London. They
were so excited. I am so deeply saddened
that the world is as it is and I regret
that we are not all loving people.

© Chagall ∞

Proof of Others

At the core of my existence I am certain
that poets exist on beautiful celestial orbs
other than earth

© Chagall 2017

 

Jab To The Plexus

Dear Sara – I was deeply saddened today to realize it will take less time to attain your parents’ age than has transpired since we first met. Desperately breathing irregularly. Love, Carlos

© Chagall 2016

Haiku for Comfortable Nesting

Crest absorbs warm rain
Lone bird soaking on a branch
Watery warbles

© Chagall 2016

The Interim

The lights are going out,
not forever – just for now.

We have coffee and tea,
we can make bread if need be,
sing, play cards …

Only for a little while,
only just for now.

© Chagall 2016

Folk Art

Gravity or intent
drives the hand
down

© Chagall 2016

Ice Chips

The night is crisp, autumnal.
Bourbon sweeter.
My son and his petite amie
at a friend’s cabin while they’re away.
With them, a bag of sweet potatoes
I grew and cured, for roasting
over the wood fire they’ll make.

Life is good.
Peepers sing earlier
than usual tonight. Harmonics from breezes
to trees to shape the glass arc of our ears
to blow gently in them.
I am yellow aged orange inflamed
dared to go red before withering.

I pray to the last gold ray of sun
there in the tall eastern trees
that refuses to say die to another day.

© Chagall 2016

For Someone Like Sara

Sweet potato by Melissa drying
together in one heap.

I make a one-cup dough everyday,
roll it or fill it.

We’ve seawater still on our fingertips,
a crust of hot crystal salt.

I’m different – you said,
through the open window – I’m the one looking up.

You were late. I watched you gather lilac and lace
by the unlatched gate.

Your breathing stills matter about the fire,
all being is cured aromatic.

And so able to last
forever.

© Chagall 2016

Carpe Noctem

From what,
for whom,
until when,
do all these
planets spin?

There below
on the dark side,
see them – aren’t those
lights?

We no longer
pay attention
nor pray
for those who
destroy the
blue pearl

Chagall 2016

Intrinsic Pattern

I hold my head
I move my hands
sculpted fingers

In poised asymmetry
I trace rotations
about my core

I am the orbits
of moon around earth
around sun

I am
polyrhythm

Chagall 2015

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