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Origami Transportation

Origami Transportation

 

How close am I to

Earth when

Help would push me

To the sky

And pain still wishes to

Pull me to the ground?

I guess I speak of

Medicine and illness

And the rips, the tears they make

Ideally with coordination

(patch over wound)

But with parts of the heart

Still pouring over into

Nets of capillaries

Wounded-open

 

What can artificiality construct

(what can making make)

To that will mend with

Flesh parts that have

Been hung for years

Red, brown, freckled, white

Flesh like bird-feathers, birds

Waiting on a branch to fly

Once the banding’s done?

 

Fly so well, then?

Metal and claw, we have to hope

Human mends

Steel and plastic

Cotton, nylon fiber

Chemicals repurposed from

Repose inside the Earth

Give it all a chance

 

The gently shackled bird

The patient with medicines

In binding

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Nikoline Arns on Unsplash

 

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Passenger

Passenger

 

Disorientation

Getting sick

Trying not to

No, what is it

Trying to get well

 

Two infections

And did they damage my heart?

Became the overarching question

So a string of tests

Withholding diagnosis in the mean time

Withholding treatment, too

The pain was high

Still is

Less lousy, I can say

 

C L Couch

 

Image by 이정임 lee from Pixabay

 

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Sick Days

Sick days (not the good kind)–be back soon.

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A Gift to be Free

A Gift to be Free

 

It’s a Saturday for God-thinking in

The easiest way possible

No one expects anything at least

In my culture

(weekend in the USA)

There’s mass on Saturday

A smart invention of the Catholic church

But even then it will go easier

Litany from a hammock

Prayers while kneeling

In the garden

 

What does God want of Saturday?

Sixth day of creation

I think we were made

Though a day to God

Might as well be an eternity

To our thinking

We are the human gift

Invention for our industry

 

Now limit the hours

Keep it to five days

(four days in Europe)

Send all the children home

From factories forever

(the world waits for this)

 

It can be a day for thinking and rethinking

For new ways to slide in

Supplanting what needs to be overthrown

Inside,

Confirming what is wise and

Always

 

Let’s enjoy the first half of the weekend

Tomorrow should be even better

 

And if your sabbath’s done

Then divine gifting

Is already yours

And if your sabbath’s an invention

Enjoy humanism-giving

In rest or play

 

In other words, the day is yours

The day is ours

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Erda Estremera on Unsplash

Cheerleaders

 

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Friday’s Children

Friday’s Children

 

It’s Friday

I should say something

About cats

And to be fair

Dogs

And if you have a rabbit

Pet your rabbit

Be careful ‘round the ears

Otherwise, I think they like it

 

Friday’s child is loving and giving

Cats, it’s true

Are a source of affection

And encouragement

Through seeming indifference

Dogs are obvious about it,

Aren’t they?

Sometimes that’s just what we need

Obvious affection

I’ve spent most of my life

Around both

Not both kinds of cats (though

that’s true)

But contrary cats

And thorough dogs

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by Peter Morth from Pixabay

 

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Process of Prayer

Process of Prayer

 

God

I love you

I don’t know if you know that

But you are perfect

So you must

And know this better than I

What is real

What is faked

What is performance

From a holy script

Or my own from the ground

The dirt, the dust of my own use

Of words

I hope that if I reach out with my mind

You are receiving

So many of my prayers are silent

They wouldn’t have to be, I guess

I count on you for reading thoughts

Is that all right?

Thought is reality

Is has to be

I hope it may also be

Salutation

Supplication

Air into which

I might air grievances

Also dreams

And gratitude

If not for dreams, then for life

Itself

I guess I trust you hear me

That silences still count

So as my words go out

They must go in as well

 

C L Couch

 

 

A nonconformist chapel in Pwllheli, Wales. Unlike historic chapels, this is not attached to a larger place of worship.

Alan Fryer, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12537842

 

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Haze

Haze

(through the unlooking glass)

 

For now, we see through a glass darkly

So we’re told

I imagine it is made of amethyst

Like looking through dark purple

Maybe there is a shape

Maybe movement

On the other side

Nothing we can know for sure,

Which makes faith the only alternative

Not for looking but for living

In a place where definition

Has no clarity

But must be visited

(we are here)

And traversed from

A pole of birth toward the pole of

Death and what comes after,

 

Half a world at least

Though maybe at its zenith

(or the nadir)

There is a launchpoint

Upside-down—

Maybe the dark glass is an asset here

Forestalling disoriented feeling—until

Right side up again

We are in something like

The sea of stars,

 

A passageway toward

Our arrival

For having everything we needed

Without regret

And with clarity of looking, by the way

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Anh Vy on Unsplash

Chinatown through the looking glass, kidding, just a freaking hole from the iron gate.

 

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The Other Side of Prayer

The Other Side of Prayer

 

I hear you, rascal

Talking with me as if I were

A pal with loaded pockets,

Which is all right

You know I love you, anyway

I could solve and resolve

Everything for you, it’s true

And I won’t say

But then you wouldn’t learn anything

(because I did)

As for turning back and forward time

Take that up with Einstein

And with Rosen

About a bridge

But here’s what I will do

I will love you, anyway

I will always be here

Even when you don’t want me to

Because you do

When you remind yourself

 

I’ll wait

I’m not as jealous as some others say

(I don’t think that’s

understood, a problem in translation)

Not do I easily take offense

Though I am demanding

 

Maybe if you serve

I will prove a fit leader

And your troubles helped

At the same time

Maybe not

I know you love me, anyway

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jonas Jacobsson on Unsplash

Gothenburg, Sweden

Walked in on this great seating situation with very forgiving light. Shot on the X100F.

 

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One-Sided Catechism

One-Sided Catechism

 

Lord,

I wonder Tevye-like,

Lord,

When will I be rich

And healthy enough

To take it and relish the

Easy pleasures of the

Earth?

 

When will I be young again

(and in so many ways

the first time)

To have a spirit free

Of mortal weights

Or maybe a few

To start

Of the more pernicious

 

To be rid of

So I might leap the

Barricades of illness

And of penury?

 

When, O Lord,

Will you love me less and

More than enough

That I might walk the world

In ignorance with

Something in my pocket

For a change

(more than change)?

 

I know you love me, Lord:

Would you make that at least

A little less challenging?

 

Well

(exasperated sighs),

I’m waiting, Lord

Please

 

C L Couch

 

 

kamshots – Fiddler in Darband, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19976441

 

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