Tag Archive: values


Though they cover my eyes with the fold,
spin me around, and drop me where
up is down and here is there, 
I still find my way 
back home

Michael 2022

In Echelon

Come with me!

I know a place where
there are updrafts still

You can catch your wings
and soar

Icy blue winds
near the edge of horizons

Very thin air
so easy to breathe

So little remaining

cc: Chagall 2021

Regarding Your Reblogs

Please know that I will always click through
to your original post and will not feign having read it.
Thank you to those who do the same. I consider these folks
to be true readers. I don’t see how you can like a reblog
if you haven’t yet read the remaining half of the post that lies
there beyond the link that says “View Original Post – 300 more words.”


© Chagall ∞

Haiku for One Earlier Winter

Stars burned bluer then
Breathless joyful morning songs
God today made man

© Chagall 2016




The poems I write are like
the dollar bets my grandmother made
everyday needing something
to ride on

Chagall 2016


Homgenized? Not I!

Humanity is the joy
we bring to those
one degree
of separation

Chagall 2016

From My Grandmother’s Window

I fear we’re becoming
people who have no concern
for those who succeed us

Instead we live for the moment
without an obligating sense
to make Gaia inheritable

Similarly there are those
who have no reverence
for those who precede us

Family, tradition, culture and mores
reduce to biology resembling nothing
more than a gene pool

May they drown in the shallow end

Chagall 2016

A Hug And A Dollar

In this more recent age
of high-tech thievery and thuggery
I find myself more and more
missing my grandma, simpler days.

Chagall 2015

Overhead At The Garden Fence

Yeah, about as liberal as my butt.

She doesn’t even compost!

Chagall 2015

5th Division, Spearhead

My Dad called everyone Cap’
since his days as a grunt Marine.

He never spoke of Iwo but I knew
it disturbed him deeply, men from both sides
deep in red volcanic sand strewn about Mount Suribachi.

They passed around pure grain alcohol
on the landing crafts, some hit the beach
in a daze.

The Oldest Gyrine, they called him,
he enlisted when nearly 30, came home
to work in a bronze foundry, flamethrower hot,
my Dad the grunt Marine.

Chagall 2015 – Semper Fidelis

%d bloggers like this: