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haiku

(x = space)

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blue day turns gray with

rain to see and hear and then

lightning and thunder

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C L Couch

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Carbon Copies

(x = space)

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Carbon Copies

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Sometimes I don’t know

Why I believe in God

Because God is unaffected

By my question

Or the doubt

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God’s existence being

Unpredicated by my

Belief in God

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It’s not the best start

To philosophy, though Voltaire

Speaks of our need

To invent God, where the

Need seems to have been

God inventing us

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The universe

Cosmos, anyway

Might be a random

Set (set randomly)

Of chemical reactions

Given the first state

Of ephemera

Something or place we

Might have called

Etherea

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Without a place

Or calling it,

God could be

God of random

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We set the first

Dichotomy as chaos

And order,

When it might have been

Void and substance

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Our having what we have

Through design

Or the lack thereof

That could explain the

Platypus or

Emu

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Genesis

Out of genesis,

More than ex nihilo

While God cogitated,

Then declaring to the host

That more

Company was needed

Like the first,

The universe before

The universe

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C L Couch

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Photo by Michael M on Unsplash

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Onces and Futures

(x = space)

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Onces and Futures

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I used to have a script

It wasn’t very good

Stitched-together parts

Of B-movies and what

I overheard

I could have used

A mentor, you know, a

Merlin—but then

There’s expectation

What do I bring

But nothing, what will I

Find but everything

That is the rule of Camelot

And the crystal cave

I would have

Done my homework, I believe

Looked forward to

Some lessons while

Slogging through the rest

I would have

Listened, such as a young one

Can

But that was an age

And several castles ago,

Each castle dwindling

Until only one

Remains and then only

The tower made of gray, weathered

Stone but standing firm

Through what we call

Good bones

And there might be

A teacher inside, still

Good morning,

Myrrdin

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C L Couch

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Photo by Ian Simmonds on Unsplash

Flatiron Building, New York, United States

This was a lucky find, I was running between destinations on a work trip and spotted the puddle. Everyone else stood on the corner looking up to take shots of the building. I waited for the ripples to settle after people had crossed the road, then got snapping.

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The Once and Future King by T. H. White

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Poem 181

(x = space)

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Poem 181

(thanks for the Poetry 180 Project)

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Where are you?

I’ll miss you for the summer

Billy Collins, thank you

And the Library of Congress

They are contact days, I know

Or contract

The days in a school year

By the number

And the project of a poem a day

To keep us sane,

To give us something to talk about

In class,

Who knows, maybe for extra credit

To write companion pieces

Illustrate them, turn them in

Tack them to a board

Somewhere (but in a place

of honor)

And for me, the poems give this

Once-and-future teacher

Something good

Once a day, especially

When nothing else seems good

Something to carry me

A thought, a momentary inspiration

New words, new ideas

Or simply confirmation that

I should keep reading (writing)

On my own, too

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thank you

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C L Couch

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Poetry 180 is designed to make it easy for students to hear or read a poem on each of the 180 days of the school year. I have selected the poems you will find here with high school students in mind. They are intended to be listened to, and I suggest that all members of the school community be included as readers. A great time for the readings would be following the end of daily announcements over the public address system.

Billy Collins
Former Poet Laureate of the United States

Poetry 180  |  Poet Laureate Projects  |  Poet Laureate  |  Poetry & Literature  |  Programs  |  Library of Congress (loc.gov)

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Nazaré Wall Art

Manolo Chrétien

Nazaré, Portugal

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Apologies

(x = space)

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Apologies

(and Philippians 4:8)

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Oh, dear, it’s Sunday

And there’s nothing in my

Sometimes Protestant, suburban mind

To share

I didn’t pay attention to the sermon

(too many points)

Or the meaning of the lyrics

(one broad and unconvincing point),

Though I’ll say the problem

Is inside my head,

What’s left of my heart

And there are those who had their

Sabbath, starting Friday,

And those who have a time for

Sabbath every day

I could envy

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And is there something I can say?

Think on these things

With the Philippians,

Which might be a good list

For anyone

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C L Couch

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Photo by Dariusz Mejer on Unsplash

Babylon, United States

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Finding Fantastic Creatures

(x = space)

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Finding Fantastic Creatures

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They could have flown

Above the ark

Where the birds took

Exercise,

Now and then

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Dropping down onto

The deck,

Uninvited

Though the ark-pilot

Is kind,

If somewhat crazed

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Or maybe the dragons

Found

The ship of Gilgamesh,

Which also carried

Unicorns

We might as well believe

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C L Couch

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Photo by Thomas Oxford on Unsplash

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Greenwood

(x = space)

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Greenwood

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Pleasant name, pleasant place,

I’m sure

But a hundred years ago

The neighborhood was burning,

Smoldering, ruining

Owners gone or rounded up, arrested,

And confined

And it would take a hundred years

To talk about at all,

At all well

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A campaign of hours,

One side had more guns

And a pretense of law enforcement

That on other days

Might have worked fine

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But now

So many deputized

Self-deputized

More simply self-righteous

Took aim, fired

Then burned buildings,

One of the first of them a church

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Were they prideful,

The Greenwood people?

Did they enjoy their luxury?

A colony of prosperity

In what turned out to be

Enemy-occupied land,

Though they had helped

To fight the war

Against the worst

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Say what you will,

There is relief in owning something

And despair when it is taken—maybe

You know the feeling

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So many who lost more

And life as more

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And had evidence

Of their lives

Buried without markings,

Without marking the

Rage and guilt

That killed them

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But it’s in such a pleasant

Place

And the neighborhood so

Pleasantly named,

Imbued with rest

That someday will return

To those who know it best for

Want,

For dreaming

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C L Couch

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Photo by Hayden Scott on Unsplash

Tulsa, OK

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City Of Tulsa To Resume Search For Possible Mass Graves At Oaklawn Cemetery (news9.com)

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The Ravens

(x = space)

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The Ravens

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The Ravens came to Elijah

Carrying food

In beaks or claws

They might have been confused

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The food they have

Is not for them

Or baby ravenlings

The (grown-up) ravens on a mission,

Nonetheless

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There is a prophet outcast

Alone and starving

We suppose there’s water near

(God says so)

But there is no food

No animal or plant at hand

Maybe Elijah

Isn’t a hunter, anyway

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Food is delivered

In spite of impulse

In spite of everything that

Should be natural

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The prophet

Will live on

There is a mission there

As well,

Having many words

To quote,

To deliver of his own

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C L Couch

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Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah: “Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have directed the ravens to supply you with food there.”

So he did what the Lord had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.

1 Kings 17 (NIV)

the entire passage tells of this miracle and others (2-16)

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Photo by Valdemaras D. on Unsplash

when I saw this, I was right away reminded of the story of Elijah and the ravens

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Slow Men

(x = space)

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Slow Men

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God bless slow men

(I don’t mean still waters)

Who are not evil

Who have sins in the past

And who knows

For the present

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But do not move in haste

To rule the world

Or a part,

Who listen sitting down

Or walking ‘round the block

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Who are not old

But take pleasure in

Slow ways

To make love

And have love, after

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I might talk slow women

Except

They know the wisdom

When to be fast

When to be still

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C L Couch

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Photo by Benjamin Smith on Unsplash

Rockford, United States

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