A pinball plunger is pulled
torque builds tension, drives a blue planet hurtling
Yet to achieve status quo
but already we are dying
What a sad lot
done but barely begun
Expansion wraps
central stars implode
planets light up
critical mass
the multiverse shifts
orbits combine
new suns enjoy
15 minutes of fame
We are domino
tip us watch the long ripple
beget life everywhere
a taper to kindle
We are seeds
oh, how testy we are
Chagall 2015/2018
From what,
for whom,
until when,
do all these
planets spin?
There below
on the dark side,
see them – aren’t those
lights?
We no longer
pay attention
nor pray
for those who
destroy the
blue pearl
Chagall 2016
On Mercury
its day is
longer than
its year
It’s all
about spin
the path
your journey
Chagall 2016
I’ve reshaped the constellations
to reflect what I see
I have no interest in
how others see heaven
Makes it so easy
to now know the sky
Chagall 2015
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
There’s no one for me who quite matches up,
the moons have ceased to align for a while.
There’s no one who can catch me then keep up,
they wax when I wane, they rock when I roll.
I can guess the card almost every time,
didn’t you just pull that from up your sleeve?
Stone with me, share blankets under moonlight,
tell me the stars are not that far away.
Let’s get off the grid, shoot them all the bird,
witness each full moon on the calendar.
Instead I’m surrounded by non dreamers,
those who are deluded by what is real.
Son-of-a-bitching-moronic-buzz-kills,
pissing on my clouds, stinking up heaven.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Midnight, sparkled frost.
A full moon presides o’er fields,
where I’ll never lie.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 