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Artist and His Love….

i’ll be your Marc Chagall
we’ll pray first under the stain glass
then we’ll ride equestrian –
– you can wear that red dress
we’ll travel under the stain glass stars
safe in my arms
carry you anywhere you wish to go

i’ll be your Marc Chagall
we’ll be lovers and the lovers under the big sun – with flowers
i’ll provide you with the colour and safety of love
we’ll be a couple flying over your village
sleeping with the raven at le champ de mars
we’ll be blue and green lovers
grey as lovers in the moon light

i’ll be your palette
safe in the warm love of colours
i’ll be your
Marc Chagall

*Marc Chagall was a Russian-French artist. Chagall wrote “In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.”

His paintings used in this piece:

1. Equestrian
2.Grey Lovers
3. Green Lovers
4. Blue Lovers
5. Lovers in the Moonlight
6. Le Champ de Mars
7. Big Sun
8. Lovers
9. The Lovers
10. Artist and His Love
11. Couple Flying over Village

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the in between moment before lamb or lion

tulip – tulip dancing
snow sleeping
in sun
the white – yellow
white – yolk
liquid performance
oil, never meeting
touching,
circling, un – united

tulip

spring blossom
between rock
through
garden
opening eyes
ear
and mouth

sleeping

sleeping ground
allowing stem
bulb to
break existence
circling,
touching-
never united
or
completely
tied
together


And Her Secret Is In The Middle

standing in door way
the frame way
lost light from the
hallway
a face muffled in darkness

eyes
straight forward
gun in hand
pointed and steady

a dark room
with target man
standing at the window
drapes open

winter blue outside
casts back the room
catches the wood framing
the doorway
in
eerie halo

wood fibres following
the grain
white washed
to killers eyes
body mass a
thickness

then a shot

a dime hole in the window
catching a breeze
allowing cold air
to a heated room

a man slumped
using desk
to hold himself
and failing

the doorway is empty
returned light from the hallway
meshes with
light from the winter
window

cold air
whistling through the
single shot
making flesh
and destroying glass

the blackness takes over
winter takes remaining light
a desk gives way
and a man is no more.


Real/Simple

we
the love of
a
folk singing
duo,
around
one
microphone
one
guitar,
singing about
rural
landscapes

– ready to live as we are –

without
making up
the
scenery,
pre-
tending we
are
something else

let’s play together
2 guitars
a pair of solos
strummed
hand-in-hand
around one
microphone
as we
look at one another

singing

the same song


a murder of crows

yours
is the flight
of a dead raven
becoming a robin
in the palm of
my hand

your spine
is a staircase to
the mind
as your body
is hunched
on the
floor
with your feet
palmed out and
dirty

your feet and my hands

we shall journey by
ground
wishing for wings
hoping for
lungs to swim
knowing
we are prey
to the art form
of life

when i throw
my hands
up
you will live as
a robin
and take flight

your

feet will be clean
and my hands
will be warm

guide me over
the mountain
i will walk
your stair case
massaging all
the damaged muscles

at the peak of imagination

i will jump forth
free from your mind
and join you

neither raven or robin

simply

as

one


Is this the end? for Johnny Shark

after looking out my window
rain streaking
down,
the white framing
cutting out long lines
of rectangular glass,
she came to a
decision.

in that moment, while
smoking my last
cigarette,
letting it dribble out of
her mouth
and admiring
her reflection,
she knew she could do it

she could see herself
in my window, with the rain,
with the long white lines
looking as though they were
prison bars,
and her eyes changed

and lil fin barked

and i looked at him,
saw him looking at her
but, i wasn’t prepared in time

and she turned –
a purse gun hidden,
letting the red dress
bunched up in her hands,
fall as dead as
i was soon to be

the rain poured behind her.
the moon-less silhouette
of the window framing,
draped her in a shadow
of black curtains, and
hung around her on
fire

two hands gripping the handle,
legs in shooting stance
smoke rising over her face
and a grin, below the darkness
of those eyes betrayed,
and now justified

i could hear the sirens
hear lil fin barking.
i could hear her high heels
walking
and her standing over me

she flicked some ash,
let it fall on my
burning stomach.
then,
she stepped over me
and sat on my couch
waiting
for the calvary,
no plans to escape

she was ready
proud and strong

i was weak
falling asleep and
wondering……………….


lady in red, morning after

the vodka on
your lips
tastes
as fine as
your
red dress
looks
no longer on
but
on the wood floor

the red wine is
spilled
and the dog
sleeps
on the mat
guarding
the
front door

you will not escape this time

but eventually
i
will have
to
wake from
this
dream and
realize

reality.


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