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Month

October 2019

Rainy Days and Mondays

Rainy Days and Mondays

(tribute, as it is)

 

She used the glissando too much

But was a fantastic singer

Then she got sick

I don’t know how it happens

Something in the head

The heart

The soul

We forget the present, cannot

See the future

Past is disconnected

Everything is disparate

Everything’s in pieces

 

Not that I knew her

I had an album, was all

And liked every selection

In the world, no big deal

But has only happened one other time

For me

The Eagles Greatest Hits

I even liked the baroquish piece

Fitting on the end of the first side

Telling us the singers had to leave

For now

To go to the bathroom

 

I don’t know how he handled it,

Her brother

Sad to say, I don’t know where he is

Or if he is

I can look it up

 

The death of the singer was a blip

In entertainment

Decades later, I am sad

Maybe more so

Untimely feels more untimely

Things that shouldn’t happen and that happen

Karen Carpenter is gone

We can say the music lives,

It does

When I have a stereo again

Because there’s been a dry spell

And a quiet one,

I’ll drop the record, as is said,

But, oh, so carefully

 

C L Couch

(drafted on a Monday)

 

 

Photo by Todd Quackenbush on Unsplash

 

Mystaken

Mystaken

 

A mystery

At night

Vespers

Lights off, no need

A single glow for reading

Another for the exit

 

I tell you a mystery

I’m not sure about the victim

Jesus

All of us from Eden

 

The perpetrator

The design behind

Agencies of evil

More than that, I cannot, may not say

 

The weapons

Hate

Anger turned into ambition

(it could have come from something else)

Wood

Nails

Hammer

Items for building

Turned to wreck

To rot

A life

From any usefulness

From beauty

 

The motive

Ask of us

 

Things to think about

Or feel through as

Later at night

Might turn to vigiling

 

Pray for us

The innocents

Those outside the drama

Now framed in viscerality

And doubt

 

The victims

Who should go to heaven

Deserving all reward

And will have none of it

But celebration

 

That’s for morning

Tonight we have a calm confusion

To keep

Cupped in each palm

(that might have held something else),

Paradox an artifact

Having a sharp edge

Maybe thorns

 

With care, then

All of us in darkling time

Taking up, taken or brought

To mystery

 

C L Couch

 

 

church at night.png

 

(moon) Image by Muhamad Ikhsan from Pixabay

(church image by) Lijonama80 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61976949

 

Life-Calling

Life-Calling

 

The seasons change, we know

Except in the middle

Where the change has more to do with

Now it grows, now it doesn’t

As in California (when I lived there)

There was a green time and a brown time

(still goes, I think, though a red time

must be added

for the fires)

But the Earth changes without

Relenting

 

And more of us are wondering

Where is it going

We care, I think, more and more

But here’s the thing:

We make life too hard for too many

Too many thirsty

Hungry

Fearful for shelter

Security in life

We shackle ourselves

And take too many with us

The lower, wider level of the pyramid doesn’t

Hasn’t

Had the chance

Much less completion

To be Maslovian about the metaphor

 

We need to decide that

Practically and spiritually

Life matters

That Maslow’s self-actualization model

And motive makes sense,

More so if we acknowledge other-actualization

To make that happen, too

We cannot fear for food

For jobs

For the chance to come together

Lovers, families

Present with at least a slight gaze

Toward the future

 

We say (some say), well, we must make profit

First

The world is an oyster

I’m not sure why this device

Except for pearls inside on

Occasion, though that is treasure

We might have, might not

Metaphors aside (though they are helpful

for the learning)

We are born with life

And life should be extended

It is its own virtue

(its own treasure)

Life warrants the living

For the Bedouin, the citizen in Hong Kong

Activist in South Sudan

Broker in Germany, cowboy in

Argentina, polar researcher

Suburban dweller in the U.S.A.

 

The pantheist, agnostic

Jainist, Buddhist, Hindu

Muslim, Jew, Christian (all kinds)

Those whose belief is not to have

But value the

Immediate

 

Those who see the spiritual in the land

Those who value more the material

Itself, instead

Nearly all has value

 

So those who can must choose

And choose for others

For the sake of motive and salvation

Of the world, others must matter more

Inconvenient, maybe

But there it is

It’s not a death to selfishness

The self is too important

But we make a web,

A net

For life

Where everyone might rest

In time

 

What prophecy might drive us

There are good words everywhere

But make life possible for all

Just short of boredom

Though wouldn’t that become the better

Problem?

For those who are angry

Those who are afraid

Those who feel need too desperately

To those who think that sin is better virtue

 

Like rough wood on a lathe,

Turning will be needed

An inner mission, not to be contorted

From outside

Much might be sacrificed before

Each part becomes a whole

Each one has a reason

For building in a season

 

What prophecy might drive us

The word upon our hearts

The mind once set on course

Better, if inspired, by

Stories in the stars

 

Like Rosie, We can do it!

Like Martin, we can dream

Like Tutu and the Dalai Lama, forgiveness

Can be forged

All good theory put in practice

A few absolutes to share

 

Life is good

Food and drink for life

Homes built

Pay earned

The chance to grow inside

To find and have

The pleasure in each day

 

It is not a promise for lesser accomplishment

But freedom to make so much more

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by balaji sundaram on Unsplash

 

Pumpkin Spice Girls

Pumpkin Spice Girls

 

Fall, fall

Then fall some more

It’s all right, it is the season

I guess all the seasons can be verbs,

Especially the quarter that is half a year

From now

 

Spring and fall

Fall then spring

This sounds all right

Pretty hopeful, really

 

Maybe there’s a joke in that,

See you in the spring

After you fall

 

Seasons that are seasoning

We spice our lives with them

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by George Gvasalia on Unsplash

Lake Lisi, Tbilisi, Georgia

 

A Climate Change

A Climate Change

(an issue in iambic)

 

We had rain yesterday

The kind of rain that soaks

Into the ground that that needs it

It’s still too warm for autumn

But the wind, I think,

Is trying to be cold

There is some color in the leaves

The brilliance in their own tradition

Hasn’t happened

The days we want to call crisp

As in Frostiana,

Which is persistent, begs a fire

Inside or in a ring at camp

Life in the north, I know

The south of Earth doesn’t have to care

I think it does

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Irena Carpaccio on Unsplash

 

Take Down the Cosmos from the Shelf

Take Down the Cosmos from the Shelf

 

It might be morning

Sing us a new day, please, O Lord,

And ministrations of the angels

Slough off dead leaves

From trees

And unliving skin cells from our bodies

Renew everything

And let all organic detritus

Feed what is living now

 

Maybe it takes more than miracle

To renew the Earth

Let alone start new life on other worlds

We won’t know until we get to these

Or receive their emissaries

Maybe in meteors and microbes

For a start

 

Is it all expanding,

Then what happens next?

Who’s to say it doesn’t slingshot back

To start it all again?

Or that something won’t be surging

From the center, once there’s

Room

Like black holes we have found

In the middle of known galaxies,

Which might be feeding

Something that will birth among the stars

As stars

For introduction to new layers

And new ages

Bright leaves as pages

For stories we would have never

Otherwise conceived

 

There is some faith

And magic of belief

In all that’s startling

Ancient tome and

What is behind that

With a virtue and a prayer

We take it

Songs inside muscles

Here is creation

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Maarten van den Heuvel on Unsplash

 

I Give You This

I Give You This

 

I give you this

Because I haven’t washed a dish,

A piece of flatware, or a glass

I give you this

Because I will not clean the car

Because cleaning it never, ever comes to mind

 

I give you this

Because I haven’t ironed shirts

I give you this

Because we should starve, based on

My inefficiency when shopping

 

I give you this

Because I cannot do much more

And, as I age, that will only increase

I give you this

Because I have a moment, if a moment

To try to get it right

 

I give you this

Because I love the world

But fear so much that’s in it

I give you this

Because of all the mistakes I haven’t made

And apologizing early doesn’t count

 

I give you this

Because I do not know you

But I’m sure I love you

And I give you this

Because it might last more than a day

It might be left behind

You might love this

And give it to another

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by djedj from Pixabay

 

Prophecy through Senses

Prophecy through Senses

 

Does God know us

Through our senses,

When we see and hear and touch

And smell and taste each other?

Does God need us for this?

How silly is the sense of smell

But without which

Taste would be disabled?

How does sight deceive?

Who listens as one should?

Who understands the learning that

Comes through touch?

God gave us these

And gave us work and play

There is so much more

 

But God gave us time as well

Chronos and Kairos,

Maddening how fluid

Or cut off

On the plain

Before we reach the mountainside

That takes us to cool, final places

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jennifer Latuperisa-Andresen on Unsplash

 

Happy Thanksgiving, Canada!

 

Kitchen Sink Ritual

Kitchen Sink Ritual

 

I turn on the hot water

And am thankful

I leave it on

Then wash some dishes

It gets hot

I leave it there

I hadn’t thought about it

Until a friend came up to dry

And told me how hot I

Let the water run

I trust his opinions

Maybe it’s masochistic

Scalding demons

Cleaning out the sins

Ersatz baptism

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Florencia Potter on Unsplash

Buenos Aires, Argentina

 

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