Inside
each poem is
another poem
I find myself
looking
for them
Chagall 2016
Tag Archive: sentience
My heart, adept at somersaults,
sticks the perfect landing.
The pain in my knees though tells me that
it’s not that long till fall.
So tape me up
to brace me tight
in time for another go.
Madly to the springboard
without stopping to plant
I soar of my own desire.
I emulate feathers floating
till ground.
To lie there
spying clouds move
up and down as well as left and right.
In motion emotionally always
forever truly yours.
Chagall 2016
Language cannot express that
which is not itself
Reflects no meaning
for it’s its own
meaning
Ruthlessly
one must probe
the essence in silence
Sans symbol without word
nestled in the gaze
Chagall 2016
I am intrigued by how blizzard snow removes reverb from the world
how your voice carries urgent presence atop cold flat air
Chagall 2016
I only have a moment to tell you that
today the air was more electric than before and
the beauty of existence at large is so overwhelming that
I feel alive from my belly up into my neck then
something odd happens in my face and mind
I want desperately to cry, to weep at the wonderful
creatures that are all about, these colors of all senses
How do I tell you all of that in
this our only moment?
Chagall 2016
short
star gazers
long
a
lot
like
the
tall
ones
or are they just farther away?
Chagall 2016
So subtle this thing called language
rears its head above tangled perception
discernible froth we skim cerebral
I prefer raw more sensuous groping
meaningful wordless visceral stew
the lasting poems of impulse
Chagall 2015
Here.
Is.
The end.
Chagall 2016
I hold my head
I move my hands
sculpted fingers
In poised asymmetry
I trace rotations
about my core
I am the orbits
of moon around earth
around sun
I am
polyrhythm
Chagall 2015
here where there
is no
rip cord
nor zip line
i howl full bore
lost at the timberline
here where the air
is thin unseen
creatures scurry
i can
hear where they’re
hidden
lit towns
below me beckon
there where her
heart lies
there where there’s
no rest for the weary no
rest for the weary
no rest i remain
here where there’s
dark where i am the heir
apparent to invisible matter
Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 