Tag Archive: joy


Haiku for One Earlier Winter

Stars burned bluer then
Breathless joyful morning songs
God today made man

© Chagall 2016

 

 

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The Pair

She couldn’t
remember which
we’d said we’d want
so she brought both
calliopes as well
as kaleidoscopes how
wonderful they went
hand-in-hand

Chagall 2016

The Weeping Chicana

Her tears
in moonlight

Mercury atop
cocoa velvet

Chagall 2016

Flipped

I fall in love
too often for I mistake sorrow
for the amorous

Perhaps it’s my sense
of being atop the chain
striving to deliver the lonely
their fair due

So I would die in your place
loving you more than myself
mistakenly standing

the world on its end

Chagall 2015

La Fête

chagall-backdrop4.jpg

How creative the moment it constellates
like stars in time set off little flares
I’m awake I’m awake I’m alive!
against real sky in reel time.  Let’s!
you and I do jigs on the dance floor
wave our flames high in the air
We’re awake, we’re alive!

© Chagall 2015

Thought I Was Done

chagall-backdrop4.jpg

I had missed what was on the other side,
had never flipped it over, a small thing really
when one’s life is scribed on page two

© Chagall 2015

Dad, It Feels Like We’re Floating!

chagall-backdrop4.jpg

Today’s snow is like that night years ago with my Dad
under the street lamp, both on our backs looking up
making angels, I not yet ten and he near sixty,
giggling together while the flakes wet our faces,
how pink his cheeks are, how deep are his eyes
in the blue of that night.

© Chagall 2015

Along The Banks

chagall backdrop

I plant a seed
it grows
until

it doesn’t

I climb till
I abandon

the pass

the past
you’ve said
still lingers

in small corners
the high shelves
of cupboards

tucked away
summer

cottage-gray mornings
burned clean

brilliance in
sunrise
a line of us

miles long
cross-legged

on the beach
staring out

to the ocean

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

Are You Wit’ Me?

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

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