Tag Archive: love eternal


The Turvy World

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That last night Chloe said
I’d rather die in your arms
than not die at all

© Chagall 2014

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Till That Time

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When Mercury and Venus are devoured
by the wake of collapsed stars
we will emerge again as purest
love

© Chagall 2014

Dew Time

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I will see you again despite not having eyes,
hold you tight lacking hands; I will always need you.

I hear your song but I miss your sigh,
you among the flowers, the sweetest gentian,
I will always kiss you.

I still feel your drop in the rain.

© Chagall 2014

Held Once

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The ages have witnessed beautiful people
whose eyes well with love and feeling,
in their presence we sense all that life can be,
the heights to which human spirit can soar
without feet ever leaving ground.

I’ve basked in the glow of at least one,
unconditional acceptance enabled me to live
to the fullest, to explore the edges to find
the frilly nuance and tatted lace of being
at the fringe, forestalling the unravel just long enough
to allow the heart to emerge.

They pass like the rest, go without so much
as a fanfare or salute, dissolved in a void
that is the better for our loss, though we shall never recover,
they reappear as constellations, hot suns against cold night sky
to guide us on our journeys.

© Chagall 2014

When She Was In Bloom

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I found her shears in the garden today
though it’s years since she’s passed away;
I imagine she left them one morning
then nature took its course, consumed the pair.

Time unveiled them just now at this moment
in the mound of rocks we’d hill together,
tiny stone quarries nestled by the beds.

Strung Bougainvillea, tatted Queen Anne’s lace
grow through the handle loops about the blade,
whetted once, now too dull to pare the rose.

So petals and thorns need not be afraid
of falling prey to the anvil motions;
how I miss her steady hands, my twin soul.

© Chagall 2014

Twin Souls

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In a dream, she calls to me from outside.
It’s just before the darkness settles in,
the final rays of sunlight still the trees,
the day retains its heat, promising night.

I open the window and wave to her,
this Juliet fair at my balcony,
gently nudge my body forward then down
floating slowly to the ground beside her.

Her face, beautifully lit, supernatural
in bold relief against the black empty.
She is so close, she eclipses the world;
as we meld we do not pass but are one.

I am her for the moment so I feel
the love for me I as she has for him,
turns us still deeper inward till again
there is no separation; there’s no need.

© Chagall 2014

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He told her that he designed with intent
to look disingenuous – after all, Machiavellian.

She nodded, let her gaze linger a moment,
licked her lips; he sighed.

Acrobatic swirls of fancy, intertwined
in the lattice between them; arabesque.

A couplet and a wine, vintage Elizabeth,
portrayed grander, yet conceived modestly.

I am still convinced by the heave of her bosom,
compelled by the breath of her air.

© Chagall 2014

No. 9

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The music played, came into open windows
and passing autos, on air it rode
to be lilted to far away places.

Strident and European piano, Schumann maybe
an opus from Carnaval, sounding almost like ragtime,
sketched the scene perfectly, as if scored specifically
to suit the moment it’s heard.

I feel curved in aural, ears and hollows,
it tickles the melody, leaves behind
the sweet scent of talc in the slow dust.

Lips were redder, the pinks possibly
more soft than today. Upon windblown linens,
did people bite harder then? Though her back always
arced that way.

© Chagall 2014

If They Should Ask

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What I’m writhing upon,
and even writing about,
is the stuff in the box.

Neatly penned by perimeter,
bold straight strokes,
bulbous and plain.

How about what’s outside?
You may and should inquire
in due time.

I’d say I’d never trade
any moment where you were, and when.

I lived and continue to be entangled simply
and merely for you.

© Chagall 2014

When Were We

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In her eyes
spin worlds
lost stars
sadder songs
played on
darkly spilled
still cascades
she blinks
after all
time when
more hearts
drop she falls
keeps falling
kept yet fell
only once
I’m sure

© Chagall 2014

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