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
Tag Archive: truth
The birds around my home are slower than norm
There is less urgency because of the love and abundance of riches here
Chagall 2017
Everything is television so be certain to retain an outlet,
a way to get off the air.
© Chagall ∞
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 ∞
From atop the altar, a humming sound,
the sweet scent of imminent grace,
morning light imbues stained glass
with timeless palpitation, what is old
is new once, ancient olive wood
balustrades provide steady ascent.
What’s that hovering o’er the assembled?
My soul resonates with the dissonant voicing
of the towering pipe-organ.
Chant, all you chanters.
Mais oui, absolument, chanté!
The good news is that
good news is
Truth.
From here atop the land-mound
I sing to the sun gods,
I reflect light back
To The Others on the land-mounds
Below Me, and They to Those
Below Them and on
We are One upon rich green rope,
buttery young olives.
© Chagall ∞
It’s not that I’m bipolar, so much as
I have got a thin divide twixt extremes.
© Chagall ∞
Once we count the stars, what then
will remain to sustain our love?
© Chagall ∞
Sometimes you do – Yes, you do!
– a switcharoo.
© Chagall ∞
Today I planted four new trees, my goal is
to outlive each of them.
© Chagall ∞
Lost high atop clouds
Below rich colored soils
Rock, sand, silt, and clay
Angular, blocky
Mother’s rich in organics
Endless horizons
Infiltrate the ground
Seep red from leaching iron
More dense than porous
Root to me firmly
Here in the space of no air
Within the solid
© Chagall ∞
Alphabet City 