Tag Archive: mind


2 to 1 to 0 to 1 to 2

I search for the source, a vantage point
over which I hover to resonate, in order
to speak with alacrity, honored to be
the medium, the clarion voice,
le trompettiste; I flow and so
I’m a flower, a steady stream
of warm words awash in your ear,
the storm before the quell,
not merely a silent hour,
an end to separation,
a prelude to the loss
of the throb.

© Chagall ∞

Mind Under Matter

Tendrils girdle, torso, bracchia,
anxiety manifests, parted seas close,
I prefer to be cleaved to channel pervasive winds,
a feeling named, neurosis in situ, otherwise benign,
despair unnamed is more easily thwarted, a mystery
even to itself

© Chagall ∞

She, the Zephyr

I am intrigued by her etcetera,
the ellipsis she dangles without
modifier, the comma of her petulant
being, the subtle contour of her fonts,
the page she splays open while she sings
hymns to the bare branch, the storm
she incites with mere thought. She needs
no blessing nor permission to spin
maniacally as she pleases, a dervish,
a twirl.

© Chagall ∞

Stark Relief

Today while reading Figure and Ground, I highlight
passages that I do not want to remember.

© Chagall 2017

Quick Convey

The procession begins,
mere letters shape form
from void, become benign
shapes we call words,
to beget concept.

Me?
I’m happy
right here.

© Chagall 2016

Premeditated Meditation

The soft line about me
contours my figure to ground
of which I am less certain
its makeup

Push, pull,
yaw me in space

Long-drawn
cushion of touch

A central agitation
between the eyes that is more
pressure on the optic nerve than
any real sense of being

Breath’s a valve,
there are few ways in

Contract, expel
me into ground

Is
a way out

© Chagall 2016

Just Saying

They’ve changed
the laws ’round
here so you can
smoke pot as long as you can
prove you couldn’t have been
better off doing something
else elsewhere

Chagall 2016

Alphabet City does not condemn nor condone the consumption of words.

Talkin’ About You Again

A word, a blank page no more;
this is where couplets end.

From hereon in
strange waters.

The next view must speak louder
than nothing – if not, why bother?

Pictures are an option
just not here.

Help me to pluck ideas
from all these implicit ellipses.

Chagall 2016

Ornithologic

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

Flummoxed

She said You have a good ear

My mind choked on the flood
of potential and witty retorts

Instead all I said was Thank You

Chagall 2015

%d bloggers like this: