too late the resolution
(like Louisa G. in Hard Times)
she did it right
and she’s alone
I know
it will not last
in movies
with the rom-com aspect
but in life
decisions tend to
isolate
the more done on one’s own
the more isolate
one remains
call it conscience late
to be
a part of
worldly things
to surrender
what one might have had
for company in choosing
sides
and instead
go straight
if on a life track
like
a racetrack
on one’s own
so goes resignation
wrong thing
now try
the right thing
and because of all the circumstances
with
parochial judgments
now one shall go
along
alone
c l couch
In the novel Hard Times by Charles Dickens, there is a school of place of thought, in which a horse is a “quadruped” and little more. Nothing matters of the beauty or the majesty in horses. A child of the headmaster (and promulgator of the “quadruped” importance) is in essence trapped by the limitations in perceiving, well, anything. She learns, rebels, and is at peace with the aesthetics of the world by the end. But it is too late. She remains alone, sans family, in her good thinking.
I often think of this and her when pondering the story.
Here is a paraphrase of her final state: Louisa stares into her fire with a "gentler and a humbler face." She sees herself helping others but never marrying or having children (https://www.enotes.com/topics/hard-times/questions/what-is-the-conclusion-of-the-novel-hard-times-225779).
photo by Rich Dahlgren on Unsplash
I was walking up this horse path and lo and behold a horse was there grazing! I had to wait several minutes before I was allowed to pass. The golden hour sunlight helped make this one a keeper [photographer’s narrative].
The Last Month of the World
Immanuel
With humans God
Or some such
The point being that
We celebrate
We even
Have some special songs
Only to announce
That God is coming
Though God won’t be here
But
In twenty-five more days
And how shall we fill the time
Decorating
Shopping
Going to the movies
The Oscar-hopefuls will slip in
In time for
Consideration
And the wars and famines
And atrocities continue
Maybe
Unabated
Maybe with a thought
Toward easing up
By the twenty-fifth
As a universal
Holiday
As in
You don’t have to be in the selected
Group
You don’t have to believe
As I imagine there were atheists
Between the trenches
On that eve
In 1914
Though I’m thinking
The world is often an awful place
Awfuler
This year
And I’m thinking nothing will
Change by then
The end of the month
This
Year
Then
More’s the pity
As some say
More’s the loss of life
Of limbs from the
Otherwise-knit living
Of heath through
Preventable disease
Or the lack
Or loss of
Fire
Through more attention paid
And even floods be lessened if
We did not pollute
So much
And there are twenty-five
Days
To fix everything
And
Well
I don’t think it will
Happen
Because it might
Take
Twenty-six days
Maybe even thirty
C L Couch
Photo by Lucas George Wendt on Unsplash
2 preachy poems (and I could apologize)
Wise Fragility
Don’t lose what’s authentic
That sounds good
But what if one were not authentic
To begin with
And what if one grew up inside
And was only subject
The falsity
So prevalent in
The human world
A wish
A want
The wisdom
And the health
In being who we are
With all
The honest virtues
And flaws
Flaws can be honest
Too
And loved
So what is real
We think when we’re naked
We are
Real
But isn’t when
We look the way we choose to look
For modesty
Or show
That reveals ourselves
In some depth
Some way
And bring it out again
What we know from what we’ve had
How we’ve been
Treated
Too
How about consideration of
How we might
Treat ourselves
With both health and pleasure
God
Making
And approving
Both
The way we treat each other
Vying
Too
In the best way
We were
Made
To deal
And to approve
Be you
Be me
And in love
All kinds of
(wise
healthy)
Love
Trade parts of each other
As lovers
Friends
(and)
Or nations
(the notion of naked versus dressed and when we are (more) real comes from a passage in The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis)
Cabinetry
I keep a few doors open
I don’t know
So I can appreciate
The colors in the labels
Of canned food
Or
Because I want
To be reminded of what’s there
Or
Because I’m claustrophobia
And the open doors
Trick a sense of space
Or maybe
I’d rather have life open
Not that it is
Though I think it should be
More than that
I think all our lives
Should be
Open
Like these doors
Not as politicians
Say
Nothing hide
Because they’re lying
In that
They have many things to hide
And so do we
Collectively
At least
But could we do it
Open up our lives without
Rejection
Without even prejudice
Except toward being human
Which
Of course
Is all
Of us
Open up
Maybe
(collectively)
Take off the doors
Somehow
Leave them that way
Which shouldn’t be a problem
Save for tremors
C L Couch
Photo by Tina Witherspoon on Unsplash
3 poems for new seasons, Christmastime and others
stopping by Frost
gray day
black branches
cold outside
in mid-afternoon
it’s already getting dark
meaning that
November plays it part
in the drama of the seasons
in these parts
what is it
of the woods
they’re
lovely
dark
and
deep
wonderful for liturgy
in recitation
as a legacy
we quote famous things
once more with greater feeling
now and then
look for inspiration
anywhere
and sometimes recall
to look
you know
inside ourselves
remembering that
we are
lovely
dark
and
deep as well
there is no peace on Earth unless
so here we go
it’s Christmastime
a holy season
some
might recall
that has become a cosmic
thing
on planet Earth
and I’m not sure
how much we should mind
since
maybe the Christmas values get through
anyway
something about the cheer in giving
as well as
the fun in receiving
remember that Peace on Earth
is a staple
quotation of the season
that could always turn into
rhetoric
and discourse
meaning we may talk about it
as a worldly thing
through and beyond
any one
sect or group
so we could take our chances
to be people of the season
wherever
whomever on Earth
we might be
believing
peace ultimately
to be
a practical consideration
in addition to
philosophy
and foundational pin
of faith
human faith
allied with God
and yet on our own
to own
Peace on Earth
why don’t’ we
and
we just might
an un-pretty plan
(poet’s agenda)
let the pretty verse be offered by
someone else
here there is a need
to be plain
keep Earth or don’t
have Earth or not
make up our minds
God is waiting
not saving us in this
‘til it’s too late for us
to move in with judgment
when we could have lived without
paradise imposed
but at our pleasure
being our design
and plan
c l couch
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
(from) “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost
photo by Dmytro Vynohradov on Unsplash
Black Hours
Black hours
Don’t have to mean
A dark night for the soul
Or for
Another part of
Self
An exclusive mediation
That must go
Sadly
Matched exhaustion
With frustration
Due to
Existential form
For
Sometimes
When I was done
With day
And daytime matters
Care for mother
And
Father-negotiation
With
House and home such-like
And also work outside
Of these
I could claim some
Time
And I was tired
I had some time
I took some time
And I was
Tired
Yet so many things
Were sunlit
Surface things were quiet
So
I could
Own
An hour or so
To sit and think
Like Pooh
Beside the jar
Or like the Satchel cat
That sits and thinks or sometimes
Only sits
C L Couch
Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash
The classic Dark Night of the Soul is a poem and also commentary by Saint John of the Cross.
West Gone
Go west
Young man
He said
But he didn’t mean it
In that he didn’t go
And in heaven
He’ll say
I wasn’t young
To which the angels
Might reply
Did you think of all the souls
Already west
Living
Hunting
Worshipping the land and sky
And he might say
I knew that
They were there
But had all these people in the east
Needing somewhere to go
The war
The horrors of the restless war
And then
The burdens in the restless peace
Thereafter
Not enough
He might be told
But enter heaven
Anyway
Where we’ll have a job for you
C L Couch
(Horace Greeley may not have been the first saying it, though he said it famously in July of 1865)
Photo by Chor Tsang on Unsplash
The Old West
[before it was new]
me, you, God (3 poems)
Smart Scan
Something happened
If only for
A little while
Some sleep helped
And lying in
A while
And now some coffee
Having checked the phone
Set up the machine
Which
Didn’t take so long this time
And I am glad
Thinking about moving a lamp
In a Prufrockian
Way
And there is peace
I think for emptiness
The good kind being alone
In the building
Maybe
Or at least
Most of them are gone
And I am alone
With my vibes
That for some reason
Don’t feel so bad
So pressed
Just now
There is pleasure in the isolation
Not
To want it all the time
But I think on passages from
Call of the Wild
And
Martian Chronicles
Moments
Well
Passages of aloneness
That are hard on
Them
Perhaps
From time to time
And me as well
And yet
The stories move forward
With freedom from the outside
Enhancing
Liberty
Inside
To think on everything
Or at least enough
For the passage that
Is this day
Still Time
And that’s me
How is it with you
I just lay and thought a while
An hour
In
This morning
When by the way
I saw the branches dripping
Recent rain
With golden hangers-on
Of fall
Maybe doing that might
Be good for you
The time to lie
(to lay)
That is
And not to drop off branches
(though who knows
since there is
a way
with trees)
I mean
I’m not a guru
(with
apologies to gurus)
As much as I’d like to be your friend
In this
Or at least
An ally
Allies
Negotiate
And strategize campaigns
Sometimes
And maybe such
Would work for
You
And us
Let me encourage you
To take time to
Take time
‘Cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all
Which is a passage that
I think on often
(partly
‘cause the memory
is tuneful)
From a show
And the voice
I’ve heard is
That
Of Granny Clampett
Which also appeals to me
Somehow
Anyway
Remembrances aside
Or frankly
To focus better on them
And the rest that needs recall
Before deciding
Maybe we will
Find that
Time
Call it a candle hour
(with a wick
or
screw in the flame)
That is
Some time for stillness
And to think in
Stillness
A Genesis and Then Another
And then there’s God
Who made all things
And keeps
Creating
Who is investing in the largest
And the smallest
The Grand Canyon
A grasshopper
The features and
The people
Of
The West Bank
God’s spirit is in you and me
Or me because
I ask
Or you
In the same way
Though should we not invite
We have our spirits
At the least
Which is extraordinary
In presence
And in value
Each one lost
May go to God
A greater
Closeness
And a new home
Perhaps
(I’m uncertain of
theology)
The loss might be as we expect
Peaceful
Even dull
Or it might crash into life
(and
life no more)
By flood
Or war
Loss and gain
And every feather
Every hair
(or loss of hair)
Is tracked
By God
As if angels followed every
Created thing
With ledger
And the feathered thing called hope
With which to quill
Numbers
And notations
Such wonders in the world
Too many wonders
Really
For each one
To take them all
But size
And the notated numbers
Give allowance
For each one
On Earth
To have so much
Though
There are thieves
With sometimes heroes
To thwart
The thieves
And thievery
To
Bring into repentant
Light
And life
So what might God
With all our trials
Yet
Expect of us
Well
There’s Amos
About justice
And rolling waters
And also walking humbly
By those waters
(which is
Micah
more or less)
As if they were also
Still enough
While
Being hale
For companionship
Even
Some kind of feast
Beside
And so there’s God
And God with us
Our own
Immanuel
And also for the world
Come Christmas and
You know
364
(365 when leaping)
God makes
God gives
We also provide
Gifting
Maintaining
For each other
Though we are not first cause
But we’re enough
There is great utility
In being
Giving
Sharing
Out of the bounty
Or the paucity
Of God sending
As well
As famously
Each one of us
An Immanuel
(small i)
Each one
C L Couch
But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!
Amos 5:24
[God] has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8
Oh, it's time to start livin'
Time to take a little from this world we're given
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all.
“No Time at All”
Pippin
sung by Irene Ryan in the first Broadway cast
(Ecclesiastes 3, Psalm 23, Jack London, Ray Bradbury)
Undeferment
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
“Harlem,” Langston Hughes
I am poor
I guess
I have the words
And some temerity
(rubbed
with facts)
To say
And I wonder
If the poor
Can dream or
May
Because dreams require
Some funding
To live as vision
And idea
In the daytime
Or
After sleep whenever
Some apparatus
Finally
That might build something
Even with reason
And approval
Yet
After food
That is
And safe water
Shelter
And compulsory education
Voting
And some will say
We shouldn’t
Dream
Citing something like
Chains of being
Or in spirit
Shall have a realm
Not here
For sure
Rather
Then
To pass a rule to take
Those dreams
Our dreams
Away
Citing
Some might say
The classes as distinctions
Though we have only made them
Out of balsam
And so not in the realm
Of real
Lasting places
But only signs to keep
The oligarchy ready
And plutarchy
As well
Because
Oppression manufactured
By the way
Has begged our revolutions
But peace
Better ideas
Should prevail
From all
Of us
And all of us allowed
The dream
To have it
Work it
And to play
With
Only barricades
That any might encounter
While
Waking
So we may all
Dream dreams
Asleep
Alert
Without deferment
C L Couch
“’In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy . . .”
Peter talking to a crowd, citing Joel
Acts 2:17(a)
NIV
Photo by Kostiantyn Li on Unsplash
Animals Fair
Sometimes
I think
I’d like to live
In the world of
Mole
Waiting on Toad
Or another of the animal
Fabulae
But then I’d have to become a
Beastie
I suppose
Something small
Like a civet
Still with
Tooth and claw
Or something that imposes
Like a
Heffalump
With girth
And myth
To help
C L Couch
Photo by Jorgen Hendriksen on Unsplash
Toad of Toad Hall drove a shiny red sportscar and wrecked it. He drove several more such cars and wrecked them all. (And faced jail time, kids.)
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