Originally this began more ornately,
a broad-swept flourish, a pompadour,
a bob exploring the wind, arabesque
and filigree. An idiot’s tale?
Nothing less, and now it simply ends.
© Chagall ∞
Tag Archive: William Shakespeare
The roar is great
at the top of the falls
and there is no end
to the drop so sound
doesn’t carry
up
I remember nothing
of the fury before
the flood here after
the mad dash
Even though to know
it signifies nothing
really
doesn’t stop my flame
from the puff
© Chagall 2014
Running away, we outrace the comets,
then rest on our backs, at the southern pole;
stars, concentric orbits, clarions toll:
Life on this planet, as good as it gets.
My love for you hangs in mist, crystalline,
cascades in tickling ripples down your face,
rinses from inside out, the dust, this place.
There is no heaven, nor hell, this serene.
There is no place at all, there’s no bridge back.
I reel, mad dance, awestruck, struck dead, anew,
the last call. We didn’t make it did we?
“No my love, we both died in the attack.”
Cold wild winds blow hard in vain to renew
the calm before the storm, eternally.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 