Tag Archive: summer love


Caroline, was that the bell?
Time to unfold it all away.

I’ll grab your bag, just give
me a moment, light is coming
into the window now like then
and again.

A room full of petals to welcome
the morning wind, shutters wide open
to ocean air.

I waltz with myself in a salty room
broom-swept but no worse for wear,
still smelling of summer, now I samba
on sand from beaches I conquered
barefoot, on bleached plank floors
carefully o’er and around broken glass

Caroline, you’ll call when you land?

After you’ve had the time to
grab your bag from
the carousel
before red-green
lights whisk by
and carry you away

I mist the room of petals
to keep them opened wide
alert to the sound of dark oceans
dancing waves, froth sexy
whitecaps warm in bare moonlight
rush about our ankles

I am breathless
running full-speed
maniacally at the threshold
of something about to burst

Caroline says she’s coming again
to pay a visit, without any bag this time

sans parcel, save a pair of dancing beach sandals
and a bucket of merely shells.

dark rum, slow rumba, undulating sand,
I wear clothes to capture the breeze

she shines light
luminescent – she is cyan in color
a cyanodite
she reflects moonlight

Caroline says I should
talk a lot
less

© Chagall ∞

Sara is Her Summer Love

I utter the unspeakable in order
to definitively convey that aspect of it
yet I do not suffer consequences. We are
bewildered – what to do, where to go from here.

I am nothing but eyes amid the sensation of a swing aloft
in a ceaselessly sunny sky, my shoelaces are green
but I am otherwise awash in primary color, yellow
and red are my glow amid her cooler blue.

Sky as thick or thin as I like it, in doughy gulps
or wispy cold streams.  She could float upon oceans for hours
never to sink through salt water.

She’d swim away out beyond
where I’d imagined
the breakers would be.

© Chagall ∞

Sandy Stars

The crisp scent of the mint keeps the pinks at bay
For want of a softer light I pray for rain
In vain since time in memorial less a mountain
Than a collage of sleepily filtered photos
The sand polishes both our bodies I have
Never felt more alive than now
Tickled in ocean spray
Under this moonlight
A splice in the dark
Your breathing takes me
Vague sculpted feet
In the wet beach
Silken sexy surf
Rolls on silica
Diamonds on black
As stars go so suns
Whether night or day
To where you are
Light years so far
Yet so finely lit constellate away
Bodies alive of so many colors
The delicious warmth of white foamy water washes over my feet
In the pitch darkness your breath cooler on my neck
Suddenly reminds my that sky is boundless
Much bluer by day hotter in need of rain
Pepper or spearmint oil
To keep the pinks at bay

© Chagall ∞

Lookin’ Up

It’s slow
sometimes cinnamon
can seem like syrup
jazzy like cymbals
symbols streak my brain
maybe just my ears
an especially clear day weekend
overhead everywhere bi-planes!

Chagall 2015

You Sir, Win A Prize For The Lady

I see trails, no light incites them
across weary eyes’ dull cones
the aftermath of her once, seen now gone
a fragrant sight, a dulcet taste
a sonorous breath, avalanches of undisturbed
moments froze tick steadily, the incessant sound
of no breathing, pulses of heartache
always forever on never an offbeat
splendor in the sere grass, shoes kicked off
dust kicked up, hopes kicked in dashed Kewpie’s knocked down
on ancient boardwalks calliopes beckon the lights
incite the trails that streak my vision
comet extinction, another time around

Chagall 2015

It’s A Grasp For Air

chagall-backdrop4.jpg

She said she liked to trace her heart
against sparser white tufts, her etched lines
of cursive flues, hollowed deep and grooved
tight tucks over moguls, small drops to earth
each time gravity curves she bends molten streams
over time embossed so apropos of moments come, but not
whether she’s gone – she’s no time for that.

© Chagall 2015

Carousel Stubs

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This morning’s chill reminds me
that summer is gone as you are

Yet my sandals still hold sand
the roar of distant surf

from our pas de deux
on the beach

under too many stars
seen only
if rarely
at this latitude

a specific tilt of the earth
brings us to this day

an offering on an axis
like a petal revealed
on the palm of a hand

opens slowly
to show you

before the approach
of wind gusts

carries it all
away

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

Along The Banks

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I plant a seed
it grows
until

it doesn’t

I climb till
I abandon

the pass

the past
you’ve said
still lingers

in small corners
the high shelves
of cupboards

tucked away
summer

cottage-gray mornings
burned clean

brilliance in
sunrise
a line of us

miles long
cross-legged

on the beach
staring out

to the ocean

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

Written In The Sand

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I write this one in the sand
because there’s no napkin handy
and it’d blow away anyway
here alive on the shore

etched with a pointer-like
driftwood sliver
easier than embossing
through molded mounds

at the tip of the wash
of surf roll
the message is scraggly
but clear

I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE OCEANS ARE DEEP ____________________________________

(that long line’s me
walking away,
dragging my new-found stylus)

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

Haiku For Emilia

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Life in small beach towns
sand, salt, she gets off at twelve
blue-dolphin kisses

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

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