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
The stars will guide me home one day,
I’ll follow their path until the edge
where the furtive eyes of seers peer
from beyond the eddies of time that spiral
amid the shallows of predawn, in waters
formed succeeding the impetus, immediately and
forever, I’ll be awash in the brine,
soaking, absorbing, adsorbing, and engorging,
until I burgeon and explode
into nebula-cum-universe.
© Chagall ∞
Rain.
My neighbor is playing classic rock, lost in the din
Of rain.
Cardinal calls pierce the sheet of sound, lovingly embrace
The rain.
All of life cascades in a downpour around me, I am lost as preordained
In the rain.
Saturation. Virginal daisies or is that camomile?
I am the rain.
I am every scent of lavender exposed in mist on warm nights
After the rain.
The softest drop of dew about to flee from thirsty petals
Before the rain.
Moonlight, peeking out from dying clouds,
Dreams of rain.
I lie beside you, fall through your gravity, you ask What’s it like inside?
I whisper Rain.
© Chagall ∞
I am from the sun, unable to find my way
back home in the dark.
© Chagall ∞
Snow, an extended heaven-sent sigh
expresses its passion as a function
of the angle of its fall; precipitation
begat and chilled by the wind, a fluttery
jitterbug afoot overhead. My scarf wraps
twice to warm me, beguiled amid words that
form between flakes, they speak you know –
to warn me there just ahead is a hand
reaches out to embrace but the space between,
the chasm divide is too great, still we blow,
still we fall to the ground, a powder, a mist
slowly wisps away in time, nestled deep in the throes,
in our throwaway wraparound world we propel ourselves
deeper each time we fall, backwards off-stage I trust
you’ll catch me never let me fall,
I would break along dotted lines …
snow from afar
each little star
is snow.
© Chagall 2017
Stars burned bluer then
Breathless joyful morning songs
God today made man
© Chagall 2016
There’s full moons tonight
All the worlds everywhere
Love sighs
By the light of ancient stars
Lips part breathless
© Chagall 2016
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
Conflicted today about what to write:
a new star born in the stingray nebula or
my father and I in a photo younger
than my children are today.
Astronomers say the star expanded due to a helium flash,
“…back to giant dimensions: the born again scenario.”
Through the Hubble telescope I can see my dad
swim upon ripples of time, breathe between strokes,
expertly gulping air.
Suns by day are stars by night depending where you are.
© Chagall 2016
Low-intensity
red stars
around us
everywhere
dim and unseen
The brightest
are fewer
but we see them
no matter how
far away
Yes they’re the first
to burn then fade
flickers at the rim
of time
Since Creation
there’s not
a smaller M-type star
that’s yet died
Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 