She had a conniption at his addition
Of a fourth dot to the ellipsis
But it’s the end of a sentence he sighed
Oh God, yes she replied
With a moan made in heaven, mellifluous
© Chagall ∞
Tag Archive: words
This line is in memory of hundreds of lines undone,
erased, deleted, made gone
And what has emerged but meta-prose,
writing on writing
© Chagall ∞
How subtle are these symbols, to clinch or to clench,
both embrace, one the certainty of winning, the other
holds tight to imminent loss, to quench, bring cooling
liquid, healing balm, through tight canals to affliction,
immersion in ice, or steam, infinite horizons of water,
too quiet, to hush someone lovingly with finger upon lips
shushing air.
© Chagall ∞
I search for the source, a vantage point
over which I hover to resonate, in order
to speak with alacrity, honored to be
the medium, the clarion voice,
le trompettiste; I flow and so
I’m a flower, a steady stream
of warm words awash in your ear,
the storm before the quell,
not merely a silent hour,
an end to separation,
a prelude to the loss
of the throb.
© Chagall ∞
My love poem to you has been translated
by one from your land and language. It says:
My major organs leap from their confines to enable
coexisting in the same ethereal space as your exultations.
Clearly the word was intended to be “exhalations.”
© Chagall ∞
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
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
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
Have you considered recently
refurbishing your haberdashery
or buying a brand-new commode, maybe armoire?
Some words must be paired
as fine wines vis-à-vis
fish or chicken.
Grassy, picked too young –
this one’s a hint of chocolate.
Barring any unforeseen outcomes
I’ll bet the barista falls madly in love
long before we reach five stanzas.
Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 