Tag Archive: love and all that jazz


No words for the colors my body burns
Neither primary, pastel, nor flying
Instead a conflagration, deep amber
Dark roux near burn, my soul charred flour

Equal parts air, love, and salty water
Stirred to thicken and left to cool a spell

Upon fine filament I ride to you
More than passing a glance our eyes absorb
What’s essential behind, unspoken
In search of clarion call

A prayer for forgiveness prior any act
Repentance in arrears

Chagall 2019

Caroline, was that the bell?
Time to unfold it all away.

I’ll grab your bag, just give
me a moment, light is coming
into the window now like then
and again.

A room full of petals to welcome
the morning wind, shutters wide open
to ocean air.

I waltz with myself in a salty room
broom-swept but no worse for wear,
still smelling of summer, now I samba
on sand from beaches I conquered
barefoot, on bleached plank floors
carefully o’er and around broken glass

Caroline, you’ll call when you land?

After you’ve had the time to
grab your bag from
the carousel
before red-green
lights whisk by
and carry you away

I mist the room of petals
to keep them opened wide
alert to the sound of dark oceans
dancing waves, froth sexy
whitecaps warm in bare moonlight
rush about our ankles

I am breathless
running full-speed
maniacally at the threshold
of something about to burst

Caroline says she’s coming again
to pay a visit, without any bag this time

sans parcel, save a pair of dancing beach sandals
and a bucket of merely shells.

dark rum, slow rumba, undulating sand,
I wear clothes to capture the breeze

she shines light
luminescent – she is cyan in color
a cyanodite
she reflects moonlight

Caroline says I should
talk a lot

© Chagall ∞

Odd This Love

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The plainer talk pierced
finery, then ramble

I said and therefore
she saw

True is not
always true

she lied

Despite fragile chance
I surrender always

Let go
this time around

© Chagall 2014

My Terms

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Conceived this time of a timeless place
I dispense with what I once thought indispensable
making long strides and good time across heavy wood
where the tensed remains of the slaughter
anticipate rebirth, revenge: dormant, latent, and underfoot

I walk on air a step at a time
to scale the canopy, to climb to richer vantage

I observe as I hover, as I sow I pray
to be blessed with bounty

I am spared heartbreak of mythical size
humbly seeking no lesson or lasting sorrows

My joy need be your joy and you shall stoke
a flame if I ask

© Chagall 2014

A Rattle, A Roll

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The allure of her
is a purr and a tickle

my lines are longer
more graceful than hers

speaking bodies now,
not words

the enchanted dance
on rough floors

atop tables
in vain flamenco

my how she’s skilled
the art of castanet

hips like pistons
thrust like bayonets

in smoky rooms
silken powdered hands

draw tatted curtains
free from clinging

bodies static

small sparks of blue
light in the dark

under covers
purr and allure

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

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