It might not be a gateway
but o’ don’t it make
you curious?
© Chagall 2014
Tag Archive: sentience
Life’s a mist
I can not gather
© Chagall 2014
Today, this cold crisp April day
there’s the smell of smoke and soil.
The attitude of sunlight just so
illuminates zephyrs in treetops
and gargoyles rutted in the shadow of rough bark.
They’re all smiling, so that’s a good sign –
right?
And the wind is actually whistling,
oval lips over an empty bottle
while now and then more menacing tones
much more gasp than whistle or song, hang there high in the field.
The hawk is anxious I know, that I not mistake it as soft.
And I travel back too easily and swiftly
to another place and day so much like this one,
to a time more deeply hued though equally sun-dappled.
Soft curls of white smoke hide me from my knees down;
I’m sure it’s my altitude.
© Chagall 2014
Lately I talk
more and more
to myself
finding I
enjoy my
own company
immensely
– been
beside myself
essentially
© Chagall 2014
The moment you cease to dream
is.
© Chagall 2014
The night fills with different patterns,
strange constellations – certainly not mine.
Whose sky is this?
Breezes, sharp zephyrs in trees
and sprites on-hand blow hardest,
then fade, then die.
Too many times,
but once is too many
maybe.
And lights
go out.
In the firmament
and across the way,
chariots where once there were cradles.
Such a strange sky.
© Chagall 2014
Finally in the moment once latent
I emerge from sepia emulsion
feeling a wee bit Polaroid
© Chagall 2014
The sun alights on my body
billions of bouncy bright beads
highlight my bones relative to the star’s azimuth
in a way I do not quite comprehend coax
to the surface delicious light
from somewhere deep within
© Chagall 2014
Although you can’t see it
of course there’s a flame.
© Chagall 2014
Under headphones so long
my thoughts are hi-fi
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 