I fear we’re becoming
people who have no concern
for those who succeed us
Instead we live for the moment
without an obligating sense
to make Gaia inheritable
Similarly there are those
who have no reverence
for those who precede us
Family, tradition, culture and mores
reduce to biology resembling nothing
more than a gene pool
May they drown in the shallow end
Chagall 2016
I have memories
of being in echelon
which means that at one time
I must have flown
I can feel
where wings connected
between biceps and pectorals
the backward sweep of deltoids
to where flight would have taken hold
like a clamp
we hang low in the pocket in the rush of fresh air
hundreds of feet high in a V across calibrated
stagger as if random we bank in a frolic
as one gaining air on the others steep turns
tightly so much torque but our bodies are made
for bending flexing near breaking
Our hearts are different
not so resilient, they snap
because they’re unforgiving
Chagall 2016
They tell me that to live
you need full sunlight
So I gather you up, I take you
room to room
In winter too we search for light
east to west on a slight deep arc
we’re pitched more shallow
Where nurture is wan
we work harder for more
Time sometimes casts no shadow
I’ve found from time to time
yet I always feel I’m walking
beneath something
What is that thing
we’re walking under?
Full sunlight means there’s little time
for spending shadows if one’s to live
so let’s live it
find light in every darkness around
by doing so you will become light
by doing so you become light
by doing so become light
by doing so – light
intense
beautiful
reflective
sentient
being
Chagall 2015
Down from Stuyvesant Town
a little bit up from the Boys Club
Where the bus lets you off
at Eleventh & A
About thirty feet above ground
my soul hangs suspended
I hover there to watch life pass
sweetly through a window frameless
A point of view timeless
as before is coincident now
Old city brick woven
in fire escapes
We’re once young stealing kisses
miles away at the southern tip
There the island goes dark
where two rivers meet
Alone at the point
amid too many crosswinds
Lean flat
lie back into the wall
Chagall 2015
Can’t we simply
allow life to be
ebullience?
Chagall 2015
All of the things
I seek to avoid
are wrapped up in
neat tidy bundles.
Chagall 2015
Life is a string of goodbyes
so longs for now
without interim hellos
I leave behind all who I’ve been
for the sake of who I become
with each parting embrace
Richer for the memory I mine
to uncover the nuggets
which fund my perspective
Absolutely
we’ll get together
Forgetfulness –
a life-shaping quality
Chagall 2015
She passed, the lady
who crocheted scarves
for favorite toys
Stuffed pandas sported
lilacs and greens
snug against cold
muffled happy in sound
wool splendor
Her nieces and nephews
all loved her
lined up like urchins
in top hat and dragging tails
Life cleaves carved
runners in the snow
they fade behind
or loom before
who is certain
in the blur
crinkle of snowfall
a solitary bell
She nods, beckons
Godspeed, good night
clutching her bag of yarns
Chagall 2015
The faster I plunge
the better I feel.
Getting dizzy near blackout?
Shut down.
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 