Tag Archive: thought


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

On CC-CCTV, Channel Ocho

I grow weary of the couplet, such a shame
as it’s how I halve my quatrains

Soon I’ll offer nary
more than a letter

Welcome dear reader
to “name that thought”

© Chagall ∞

To A Page

blank page – i don’t know
whether to load it or stroke it

or smoke it
down to the wick
(be flip
for an idea)
must be cartesian
product they’re
selling ’round
here

cheaply, on chagall’s time
not mine, I speak through
him, it’s rare to meet such
a medium…Well done! When
the steaks are – scratch that –
the stakes are high, way above
our heads – scratch that –
my head, an aftermath befitting,
a prequel to an epilogue, a rattle
of prose chugs along, not waylaid and
cannonballed. Sometimes you just got to
get up hill a bit and start to tilt down crest
allow yourself to roll to the finish, pick up steam
as the contour of the line permits, it’s a coaster
works on gravity, life’s a carnival.

blank page – i don’t know
whether to eat it or eye it
so i sing it
lullaby

© Chagall ∞

Ideate

A thin line separates
thought from written word.

© Chagall ∞

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

To Be Titled

There are no words
to express
the world within
where no words exist

© Chagall 2016

Nuance

In the subtle shift from
mimicry to knowing,
I dives deeper to be
among the weeds. Otherwise
I hovers.

© Chagall 2016

Meddle

I am
in awe
of all.

I name
it God.

Now I’ve
lost the
wonder.

Chagall 2016

The Morning After Eve

The hot water of the shower spray
feels great on her face, after
an all-night cry

Who knew such
a recurring but
fleeting thought
could provoke so
many tears?

Under the mist
she promises
herself today
will be no different

Chagall 2016

(Intentionally Left Unsubtitled)

Thought was there

not now

Chagall 2015

Conveyant

All I want to do this morning
is to tickle your mind so that
it’s impressed by the same grey
morning I’m experiencing here
electrically sublime anticipating
the vestige of today.

Chagall 2015

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