Barely fingertips
Two hearts well to carve moments
Spied till curves straighten
Chagall 2015
Tag Archive: sentience
Wielding the pen is the poem
is it not?
That we are at all
more ponderous
than why.
Tell me again what I’ll tell you,
I never grow tired of hearing.
You arrive before that which precedes me,
such is my life, these latent neurons.
And love?
Rain, alchemy, inevitable parting,
the last touch of fingertips in a crowd.
The sweet and sour and salt of you –
such a heady bouquet.
Chagall 2015
She exclaimed
Such a beautiful church
it’s non-dimensional
I asked
You mean non-denominational,
don’t you?
She retorted
No, come look
She swung open the large wooden door. I walked in.
Oh, I see what you mean.
oh!
o
h
!
m
y
G
o
d
!
.
.
.
Chagall 2015
Outside reading
clouds part
sun-photons come
beaming down
I stare
but for a moment
clouds merge
gray again
I return to the page
residual sunspots
there in my brain
wreak havoc
with punctuation
Chagall 2015
Awash in a a wail of church bells slurring blue
hog call whistle stops blowing the rattle
of rails amid home-bound ruckus
these trains keep on chugging chugging
across the country so wide and so green and so lovely
once free how I need to be free once more till
the end of all time I’ll be free despite all
who are crazy to believe they’ll curtail
me be free without fight flight or fancy
I will die for the same lands my daddy died for
on the sands at the foot of some mountain
Chagall 2015
Crisp incessant smacks across faces
then tears flow deliciously lips
lick my lashes
leaving me only
more lonely than now
She waits in style for moments to gather
her future is wrapped in red sash
or maybe her past
peeks through
There it goes again
on the breeze when suddenly
I drop
Dizzy in spirals
from heights attained glory
repeating some wordy world view
Wouldn’t you?
Coo-ka-choo
Tangled in branches
snarled in the bramble
I scurry to the roar of the falls
Aqueous foam
it’s oxygen-rich here
massive turbulence
magnetic churn of moon tides
I will not
hold on
I will not restrain
the flow
I will plummet headfirst
ride the scree like an aquanaut
I pray to be crushed
under oceans of water
reborn in a niched quiet eddy
on my back in warm sunlight
I croon
with these long extinct birds
Chagall 2015
On guitar I played phrases
turned and inverted to prove
my love soars more than melody
Beyond that I can’t even
begin to remember
Uncertain where dulcet
turns somber
turn, dip, samba sways,
more nighttime, these
dazes, I stagger
Arpeggios of frozen air
trickle, trip, keep trickling
tickling my mouth, merging with spirit
erupting in steel
Solid steel
I am
immovable. I
am . . .
Chagall 2015
I am moving off the grid
no longer found
at the intersection
of any lat or long -itude
confined within no cell
prescribed
there’s the writing
on the wall
you’ll see it once
you reassemble it
though it reads more
like graffiti
so sweetie I’m going
far
far
away
Chagall 2015
Sun despite our pain
Although life goes on it ends
Where bells toll, bells toll
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 