Once I woke to a dream after having not gone to bed One day I will lie down to sleep and leave the dream Until stirred to awaken again In the fog of new light I recall fragments of the earlier dream These will fade once words come cc: Chagall 2021
Tag Archive: life and death and life again
Sun shows up our pain, life goes on now when she ends, if only bells tolled cc: CC 2021
Another died last night quietly, quite unexpectedly one more tear is all I have when there's no one more odd that she spoke to him just yesterday after years of not having spoken adieu dear Arthur cc: CC 2020
I expected to wake to cold and sorrow, but instead I rise to nothing but desire
to perform spectacular acts of radical kindness.
© Chagall ∞
I read my life
the plot thickens
and pages get dog-eared
How I love the denouement
the prologue, a scan of an index
the year of copyright
Can’t put me down not yet
just another chapter or two
before turning out the light
© Chagall 2014
Although your time upon this orb is brief
there is still the chance to make it worthy
filled with the stuff that legends are made from
or maybe you prefer the quiet roads
shaded, wooded, dappled with brilliant sun
every now and then, every other step
can lead to anywhere, choose it or not,
want it or not, so much wanting, your choice
is your point of view, behold and release,
embrace and let go, the pulse of living
throbs at the neck of existence then fades
to a slow indiscernible rhythm,
empties into the space that surrounds us
and dies away, still fading, but dreaming
Dear one, the haze does lift, you’ll start again
though your time upon the orb will be brief . . .
© Chagall 2014
Twenty years
tomorrow
since Eve
is gone
yet it’s still
to sink in
© Chagall 2014
Without each loved one who passes
I’m forced to face the eternal,
to ponder again that stretch of days.
Endless seems uncertain,
something must intervene.
Within, I assure me
that forever never comes.
© Chagall 2014
She overcame inertia by bearing down hard
catching grip on shift-gear and leather,
deeply like cement – she became fixture,
a ground to figure
aloof, always the bold one off-axle spanned across
imperfect timing, but not to be lost on a roll –
tipped her shoulder, head-down ditched and tumbling
to topple her way to the billboard below,
fifteen famulous minutes though nary five feet high,
smaller than popcorn and concession soda,
but horribly beset by bugs in the diffraction of projector light.
© Chagall 2014
The rain in its patter
sounds to be trying
to drum home a point
already made, such moribund
yammer
hey – you got that?
wafts in sweet cologne, some rosy
cheap knock-off more cloying
than haunt brings an ache
to my head, eclipses the migraine
I once had in Nam, when those stars turned mist
to shroud good men of both sides
I would light ’em if I had ’em, feel the need
for strong smoke, held breath in incantation
awaiting release, new days will come
a roman candle erupts in my mind, I see
shiny things to fixate upon, come and go
divert my attention from checks marked Void
though the paper on which they print
is precisely the price I pay
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 