Tag Archive: symbol


The Unfolded Savior

i return to my device and the word application asks
want to save? implying my previous work unsaved,
i reply Yes for i trust my earlier self enough
to have made some excellent changes

Chagall 2017

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on writing on

sometimes I re-read things i once wrote and at first
thought they are grammatically wrong until i realize what it was i meant

Chagall 2017

Preamble

One more morning
I’ll write. Gray,
sure. Air with the
same scent and feel
as that day, you bet.

The need – the ache –
to hold onto anything
that doesn’t slip away.

Perhaps the living is
easy and the writing
tougher.

Sound attests
to the existence of time
as sure as motion does
yet so much timelessness
in the rustle, the whisper
of leaves on canopy branches
high among the zephyrs. I
grow dizzy to imagine myself
there at the top looking down.

Maybe I’ll feel more today and
write less about it, pull in
the shutters, the sash.
Still, here on the inside
I fashion small chips
of graphite into pencil
an essential element
to build strong bones.

With enough sun and love
a stand of kindred spirits
can endure forever.

© Chagall ∞

Ideate

A thin line separates
thought from written word.

© Chagall ∞

(Inspired by a comments exchange with Celestine @  Reading Pleasure)

Or

I did not think I would write today,
living life had more allure until
I reached too far, I felt too
deeply, I fell ever so gently
from such a short height,
that’s all it took
to be here.

© Chagall ∞

Quick Convey

The procession begins,
mere letters shape form
from void, become benign
shapes we call words,
to beget concept.

Me?
I’m happy
right here.

© Chagall 2016

The Birth of Word

Please accept this filament fine,
as I spun it just for you.

The silk that silk envies weaves
a gentle lattice about nothing.

No breeze stirs you suspended
on girders above trip-wire.

Speak! cries out in need
to fill space.

At the end, even now
we can still hear it echo.

© Chagall 2016

Actuality

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

Talkin’ About You Again

A word, a blank page no more;
this is where couplets end.

From hereon in
strange waters.

The next view must speak louder
than nothing – if not, why bother?

Pictures are an option
just not here.

Help me to pluck ideas
from all these implicit ellipses.

Chagall 2016

Pass Me The Tourism Section

Sometimes I right-click, toggle the Language
to some exotic setting, then I travel
vicariously through font and accented characters
I wax eloquent, coerce my prose forward
on-line editing is friendly that way
I am riding the metro my dear, I will be home
to our small flat in that city where the Language
has a large following of speakers
I am fluent, the years have treated you well
how I still love embracing you every night
I say I love you in every language possible
as a ritual every night I’m compulsive that way
it takes hours I know I’m sorry
I will right-mouse-click us out of this jam pronto

Chagall 2015

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