Ruah
I have a Hebrew
Book; it is
Beautiful
I don’t know Hebrew
(I, feeling like a fool,
Confess)
A few words translated,
Transliterated
Such as ruah
The wind,
The breath
Out of which
Our God
Creates
As I say,
Beautiful
(in wake of USA candidate debates)
“America Great Again”
Presumes, first, that America
Was great; second, that
America is not great now;
Third, that the way to save
America is retro-work—to
Move back
Americans (from both
Continents) were majestically
Successful in overturning
At deadly, awful, perilous
Cost the evil that was Nazi
Warring by crazed leadership
America (USA) is great with
Wealth and resources,
Though deserves skeptic
Observation in generosity
And evened opportunity;
and while one can appreciate
What are traditional, even
Foundational, values, the
Way ahead is not behind
Returning to the basics
Doesn’t work—though we
Can move forward to the
Basics, crafting and cementing,
Dreaming and creating these
Anew—this way makes USA
Great for a new time, which
Now is a smarter reason to
Elect then, wisely, move forward
If Only, If Only
if only, if only
the stars weren’t so lonely
with great space between
tell me, what does it mean
might we now in time
be closer than rhyme
inspired by Annie at What the Woman Wrote
(https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/)
and Louis Sachar in Holes
(Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1998)
My Own Valentine
(prose poem)
My own little Valentine celebration. I guess we celebrate feast days, though these are the days in which the saints have died. Martyrdom—we celebrate? Well, I bought little round pink plates with small square napkins to match. I am drinking coffee with little croissants on one of those pink plates, dabbing with a small square napkin. Watching the pope visit Mexico.
Where is love? Is it there? Is it here? Is it intertwined through both places and all other places? And the people? Are we bound in red silken ties of love? Free to move yet tied so that, when we might fall, others are there gently (remember, silk) to pull us up and on.
Quizás.
Goodness, the president of Mexico is good-looking. He speaks of “a better community” (translated), “a better society.” A better world, I imagine. Why not? Here’s a chance to speak of objectives and ideals in a country toward which too many look askance.
Quizás.
Endure Oregon Protest
They are still in Oregon.
The protest goes and has
Closed in. A leader, Cliven
Bundy, was arrested.
“Cliven” could be a past-
participle word for
“Cleave” (I don’t know
that it was)—an odd word
cleave: on its own, it would
seem to mean to cut into
two, yet it is the word used
for bonding in marriage
talk. Maybe the ideas is
that in marrying we slice
ourselves off one plant
and in a cleaved (or cliven)
state are grafted to another.
From both parts, then, new
growth is hybrid-formed—
and was such unity made
made here? Since one last
leader was taken, it would
not seem so; disunity, like
bad harmony, sounds from
final voices that endured.
Not to say that protest by
occupying and with guns
is a better way, for it is not.
But someone should really
hear what they have to say—
I’m not partisan in this
for feeling for both sides.
I simply wish equality imbued.
Everyone should be heard.
Everybody gets a turn. Not
A game—but how we should
have it. All the same.
Almost Always, Haiku
In spring love might turn
If you’re there to plant with me
Almost and always
Happy Tails, Happy Trails
I grew up with cats, with
Dogs, partly with a horse
(an entire horse), some
Guinea pigs, I think, and
Fish I could not relate to
There was a rabbit (maybe
Two rabbits—you know
How they are), a rescued
Bird
I met a big snake one time
At a program with a guide;
I enjoyed petting the snake
Feeling its muscles move
Beneath the skin
I enjoyed a staring contest
With a deer across the
Yard; actually, we were
Both walking the local
Cemetery and caught, as
If to trap, each other’s eyes
The things—Scripture’s
Creeping things—with tails
Are the ones I seem to
Do best with; I suppose I
Create a cheat out of
Belief and hope that the
Ones with tails and I are
Getting along
Well, what can I say? My
Wish (I don’t think Dale
Evans Rogers would mind)—
Happy tails, happy trails
this work is incited (that is, inspired in
an especially zealous way) in part by a
delightful blog and an extraordinary
group, Three Chatty Cats, celebrating
wondrously the rescue of cats
http://threechattycats.com/2016/02/08/the-odd-cat-sanctuary/
http://threechattycats.com/
Gee, Emoji!
This cat is cool
And a gift from a friend
Who knew my cat, too,
The cat who trained me for
Nineteen years, and I never got
It right
Palindromic name, Hannah
A rescue on Hanover Street
Kitten alone, wandering into
Street traffic
I took her in, and she took
Over
Such a fine companion,
As most cats who are left
In power to train us,
Truly are
The emoji makes me think
Of a cheer—maybe it’s the
Wry smile, maybe the sunshine
Color
Gee, Emoji!
Gee, Gee, emoji!
Gee, emoji, you’re so fine,
Want to paste you all the time!
Graphic cool is what you are,
Any shape, you are a star!
Gee! Emoji!
Gee! Gee! Emoji!
We cheer
For our circular cats,
And we are cheered
my friend who sent me the cat
emoji keeps a Facebook place
called One Mom’s Mission
about the joy in having a child
with Down’s Syndrome; my
general ignorance in using
emojis was first ‘fessed to and
challenged in a friendly way by
Annie at What the Woman Wrote
(sorry, Annie, I still don’t know
how to use these things in
anything like an easy way)
ONE MOM’S MISSION (FB)
https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/
clcouch123 
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