Tag Archive: free verse


Lost The Blaze

chagall backdrop

I perch on a branch
rather than hoods
where rain water beads on the high
gloss of hand-buffed wax

unlike the low luster of eyes
strung about the necks of remorseless

and trill
nay, lilt

springs aid suspension of disbelief
prevalent these days

any tight burrow will do in a pinch

aligned contrary to twilight
abstaining from pleasures because
I choose to indulge
in heartbreak, because I can

with little time to weigh
eons on either side
not certain of come and go, gone and went
truth or status quo

yet
my money’s on the money, the surest thing
since sentience, the sweetest element
is not uranium; to the ghosts of Princeton: natty wool on the catwalk
hooping hulas ’round the nuclei, I eye the errant
confuse disdain for ardor

I approximate the distance between two hearts to be
greater than the sum of the moment

mailboxes crammed with dead letters postmarked
insufficient, due only what’s coming
raise stained white flags in tie-dye surrender
patchouli and hemp
rise early and often till the last
but spontaneous now, how herculean then
to breathe

then so vague;
not long now,
just a few more notes
till the coda

© Chagall 2014

Transient Disturbance

chagall backdrop

I’ve been known
to mistake her words for stars
to infer constellate Ursa, major-minor keys
to unlocked doors, her way-inside-out
she says I cut such handsome figure
falling through her fine-mesh screens

Impossible to escape these cellars
especially when there’s no money
and besides, I’m also broke
down here at the edge of her rotation
with the only hope in sight
inverted on my optic nerve

you’re a bit too dizzy, I’d been told
but oh so right for what I had
in mind, when can you start?

why post-convalescence, if that works for you
I need a moment, a year perhaps
to regroup and re-stench
enough to succeed
this is my notice, all be warned

as you wish so do you not sow
no question you’ve got a lot of reaping
to do

in a backroom slavic casino game
they point the blank at me despite
the hand that shakes so
I bite it before it spills
its feed before it fades
away, weigh
the options are heavy exercised
but that’s what digital’s for, all that wealth
in zeros and ones

why, if I was an electro-magnetic pulse, so help me God, I would . . .
I really would

but wait, I almost forget that for an instant I am
she is too, together we are these days
spilling from the lips of the abyss about us

if only babes could speak they’d advise to hold our tongues
no doubt, with goose-step uncertainty
we contribute to the march of Times
not quite sure how our money, like we
is spent

© Chagall 2014