Tag Archive: Music


Calliope for Satie

She is comprised solely
of essential oils, lovely
silken flow, pistons in valve
lubricant, stamens on pistil,
pollen swollen anthers, she wills
the will of the wisp to do
her bidding, she calls sweetly
through the nightbird, coopts
its thin coiled chord to vocalize,
to trill appoggiatura.

I relax limb and tenon about her,
promenade on wrists and knees:
gymnopédie as it was meant to be,
arched, pointed, and flexed.

© Chagall ∞

Dion singing about runaway girls,
makes me want to pull my heart
tighter around the years, they pass.

Kisses fade into scents of lilac
where lavender used to be, where
there will never be roses.

I couldn’t bear apologies from
so tender a spirit, especially
for naught, such was her challenge.

I etch the horizon precisely where neon should be,
pretending there are bridges and stars hanging
in thin city air.

I’ve imagined myself as a silhouette on rooftops
blending with balustrades and fire escapes, in shadow
descending quietly.

To find her alone on Belmont Avenue, under streetlight,
in gentle snowfall, in warm rain, wherever her life
turned inclement.

And time is like an arrow struck from the quiver
of a rosined bow, approaching its acme.

…ask any fool that she ever knew …

© Chagall ∞

An Image Through the Jade

She asked if I would please come down from the parade,
home from the water where hope flows slower than time,
back to where it all began to all begin, to be all in
one final moment momentarily lapsed. And each passing
day is a cedilla underscoring existence like LaFaro’s
thick bass one summer under Evans at the Vanguard.
Apart from all living things, everyone is fine,
at least that’s what they tell me. I get lost in my
search and then look for a way to return to the search
above me; sky is potentially below so to fall is to fly.

© Chagall ∞

Creation

In the space there between slipped fingertips
whorls of sound explode into bursts of light

© Chagall ∞

Splice

The light is soft here as if all the world is heather
askance, atilt and askew. I stare at a door ajar
that invites me to slip in now and then, and I do.
I float on a tone, bulbous sound beats against time
measured in gulps, a three-quarter waltz paced regularly
when I least expect it to. I wish you eternal lavender.
Life offers life on the gentlest of palms below the wrists’
hollows so slender and kissable. Cheeks intended for cupping
dimple and provoke the protrusion of lips for tugging, to daub,
pull and pout. The colors around me begin to lose their soft-edge,
sadly. I hear the click of the door lock, not certain which side I am on.
On the down beat I gracefully swoop with torque and suspension,
sinew and skin and blood, at work in miraculous union.

© Chagall 2017

For A Song

I had such a clear falsetto once,
soared the musical scale high above
any notes that mere mortals dared
to defy. I’ve lost it since the
childhood innocence is gone, left
alone, this humble baritone, no longer
a tenured tenor, soon to hit rock bottom,
a baseless bass who dreams of being in love
fully soprano.

© Chagall 2016 – oops! – 2017

Aloha

I’m an ukulélé by an open window and
I’m hoping that you’ll pick me up to pluck
Sing a song about three lovers near the water
Lala lala lala la aloha-oe

© Chagall 2016

Nothing But a Space-Time Thing

I am exhilarated by early morning and
the promise of timelessness
to experience life’s wonder.

Till evening song
when hours hang heavily and
I shift to the eternity of sky for bearing.

© Chagall 2016

The Interim

The lights are going out,
not forever – just for now.

We have coffee and tea,
we can make bread if need be,
sing, play cards …

Only for a little while,
only just for now.

© Chagall 2016

Sand Dance

One day long
ago I lived
with a senorita
who scored
clave-shaker
duets for money

From the window
I shouted
It appears as if
snow is starting
to fall!

She whispered dryly
Then let’s let it

Chagall 2016

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