(x = space)
x
x
For Real
x
Ouch
It hurts
Somehow my foot
Was traumatized
In a sort of
Accident last week
I like to think
It’s getting better,
But that might be
Wishful thinking
x
I’ve been hobbling
While I’ve been,
Well, hobbled
Maybe there’s a lesson
In this
That I don’t know at present
All I’m thinking about
Now
Is ouch
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Max Bender on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Finally, an Affirmation
x
Sometimes to dream
Is stupid,
Because
I think that
Of myself
Who am I to dream?
How can I make the waked-
Up version happen?
Who smiles on
Me to make it happen?
x
Dreams spark on the
Inside
(where there is heat);
They are
A matter of
The inner life, the life
We have when we
Are at our best
Or at our rest—sometimes
I’m not sure
Which is which
x
I share this with you
Because
Our dreams have value,
And we should have them
(some we’re
going to have, anyway)
And the truer ones
The ones that form,
Form again,
Take hold
x
The dreams that we
Should have
That the ideal revelation of
The universe
Approves
x
C L Couch
x
x
Gloomy Forest in the Fog
Photo by Jay Mantri on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
blue day turns gray with
rain to see and hear and then
lightning and thunder
x
C L Couch
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
Carbon Copies
x
Sometimes I don’t know
Why I believe in God
Because God is unaffected
By my question
Or the doubt
x
God’s existence being
Unpredicated by my
Belief in God
x
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
x
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
x
Without a place
Or calling it,
God could be
God of random
x
We set the first
Dichotomy as chaos
And order,
When it might have been
Void and substance
x
Our having what we have
Through design
Or the lack thereof
That could explain the
Platypus or
Emu
x
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
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Michael M on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Onces and Futures
x
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
x
C L Couch
x
x
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.
x
The Once and Future King by T. H. White
x
(x = space)
X
x
Poem 181
(thanks for the Poetry 180 Project)
x
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
x
thank you
x
C L Couch
x
x
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
x
Nazaré Wall Art
x
(x = space)
x
x
Apologies
(and Philippians 4:8)
x
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
x
And is there something I can say?
Think on these things
With the Philippians,
Which might be a good list
For anyone
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Dariusz Mejer on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Finding Fantastic Creatures
x
They could have flown
Above the ark
Where the birds took
Exercise,
Now and then
x
Dropping down onto
The deck,
Uninvited
Though the ark-pilot
Is kind,
If somewhat crazed
x
Or maybe the dragons
Found
The ship of Gilgamesh,
Which also carried
Unicorns
We might as well believe
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Thomas Oxford on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Greenwood
x
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
x
A campaign of hours,
One side had more guns
And a pretense of law enforcement
That on other days
Might have worked fine
x
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
x
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
x
Say what you will,
There is relief in owning something
And despair when it is taken—maybe
You know the feeling
x
So many who lost more
And life as more
x
And had evidence
Of their lives
Buried without markings,
Without marking the
Rage and guilt
That killed them
x
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
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Hayden Scott on Unsplash
x
City Of Tulsa To Resume Search For Possible Mass Graves At Oaklawn Cemetery (news9.com)
x
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