I will cash in on thespian knowledge
So I really must know how to act
Or make a fortune while foretelling karma
Still I’d owe way too much deep in debt
So I’ll seek to reap riches from relating tales
About life being grand at the edge
Where only sweet water flows across miles
Evanescent, effervescent, ever long
© Chagall ∞
She wipes her tears away
a soft fold of white tat
lace doesn’t daub well
merely smears the sadness
she feels, has always felt
She’d rather it rain down
blow a hole inside her soul
hollow out the echoes once again
blues – nothing but blues wash her
away to find lost paradise
Chagall 2016
I yearn for the happiness
that you do not feel
I vibrate my total being
to will it so
I learn instead that
love can grow from sorrow
Chagall 2016
Mopping up sprinkles on fingertips, the end of the party,
round sweet remnants, in so many colors, matched the balloons
that bobbed overhead, and I upside down on my bed
pretended to walk on the ceiling.
© Chagall 2015
My smile’s upturned
at the top of my head,
I imagine it now
to reside there,
inside and high
at the crown, it’s void
of the need for my face,
any muscle or tension.
In suspended
jubilation,
I simply will
will myself
simple, to be
me, not a care
in this world,
go dumb.
Mine’s a Cheshire grin
that you can’t see,
but inside I glow
with big polished teeth.
My sobs are just
camouflage, first
you see me, and then . . .
you don’t.
A lot of folks cry
on the inside,
not me!
I’m laughing all the way
to the wake,
which
by the way,
is on the way,
to the bank.
Keep your wits
about you man,
’cause a cold morning breaks everyday.
© Carlos Chagall 2013
Alphabet City 