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Toast

Toast

(lids on hot food for now)

 

I woke up with a cold

I don’t care

I have this hour

And a day that could go twenty-four

Or become an age

As in day of the dinosaur,

Which is a really long day

 

You woke up this day with what you have

I hope it’s good

And if it’s not,

I hope it gets good and even better

For the hardship

 

We are awake

We have today

There’s sunshine somewhere

And out there the stars are turning

Movement proves life

Be easy

Or be crazy

Have a thought for someone else

And what she’s going through

 

We’ll see each other soon

Dancing in the skies

The circle won’t be broken or

Truth made out of lies

 

Now thinking-reverie must pause

Because there’s food and drink somewhere

And labor must be easy for a time

I hope we find the feast

Thank the host

Thank the guest

Hang on, if we must

Go in, because we can

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Mark Cruz on Unsplash

New York, United States

 

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The Noise

The Noise

 

I think I hear street-sweeping

Wrong day

No, it’s a plane

The noise is now stentorian

Now it’s Doppler-fading

A truck going through town?

No follow-up

Wet tires, maybe

On other cars

Scattered showers were predicted

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Daniel von Appen on Unsplash

 

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Old Times There

Old Times There

 

It’s an unordained day

Unornamented, too

Too soon for everything like that

Late November, cold and chilly

Sky flat with pale gray,

Everything else dark against it

A perfect day for candlelight, I think

Maybe pretend it is an older time

When caves were justified

Along with houses

And people might keep moving for

A life

A livelihood as tinkers, fighting

For hire, or maybe storytelling

In a common room

Manor or pub

(I don’t think churches or temples

were lent out)

Small town, desert place,

Or greater city

 

Told, though I think sung

Maybe couplets, maybe rhymes

A language we will never speak again

Food and drink for fees,

Maybe coins

A night to sleep inside

Up and out next day

To travel to whatever

In an older age provides

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Moodywalk on Unsplash

New Delhi, India

Some magic is happening in every moment, have a close look.

 

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a cycle with some silliness

a cycle with some silliness

 

 

Late Fall in the Hall

 

There is a little mouse who comes to call

And I don’t mind at all

Sometimes it brings a little ball

I don’t know where it lives

Inside the wall

 

 

Toothynessnessness

 

He has a toothy grin

He is on TV

I think maybe Andy Griffith had one, too,

With which he meted justice from

Atop Mount Airy

 

There are many such white soldiers

In a line

But I mean

The grin that’s broad and happy

To meet us

With a couple of the sentries

Maybe a little out of line

(too tired from the night before,

these guards)

 

I like teeth

I know we need them

Maybe in the next round of adapting

Not so much

The tearing of

What was foraged in the wilderness

 

They don’t need to be bright

The face together is

More important

They should remember that

 

Chomp away and like the riddle

Champ

Have fun with

What you have

Enjoy the need

 

 

It’s Time, I Need to Practice

 

There is a tune in my head

Oh no, it’s a Christmas song

I think

A new tune, I don’t know the words

Woe is me for falling

And in ignorance

Moreover

I can’t sing along

 

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Duffy Brook on Unsplash

This with the other two shots with Santa hats on puppies is from a shoot I did to promote a local puppy rescue organization: lisaparkerspuppies.com. We’ve fostered over 30 puppies with LPP. The pups inspire me to get out and take pics! Remember to adopt—don’t buy your next best friend.

sorry, dog (for the hat—maybe you like it—nah)

but Duffy’s right—the message is not silly

 

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Earth-Talk

Earth-Talk

 

The sun is knocking,

Asking to come in

Can you imagine?

The sun, huge and glorious

And powerful, asking

To come in?

But on this pale-gray day, the Earth

Seems to be withholding

Tiny planet, fending off

The sun

 

What is just but to give

The smaller thing its due?

It’s here, too, after all

And what is mercy

But to wait upon

Its waiting?

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Fabian Struwe on Unsplash

 

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It Happens to Be Now

It Happens to Be Now

 

It isn’t often to my eyes when

The light is pink outside

Not with drama or ensemble

But an even tone, the sky all its own

And, yes, it’s daybreak

I turned hot water on, and at first there was

Not steam but a film across my vision,

Vague and even

This is the start of an unspecial day

It’s 23 November

Day after JFK, C. S. Lewis, Aldous Huxley

(many more we cannot name)

 

Nothing new but its own time

Prepossessing seconds to release

Like dropping jewels from a story-pirate’s chest

Upon the Earth in outside, mortal time

Profundity in kind

Wisdom at the ready for, well,

Yes, anyone

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Max Ostrozhinskiy on Unsplash

 

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What Do You Say, Dear?

What Do You Say, Dear?

 

Sometimes in weariness we wander

While we stay inside, trying to take in

The world about

 

How much sense we can make with

What immediate surrounds us

We don’t know,

Certainly

 

We can open a book of the paper

Or electric kind, and we should

 

Where do answer lie?

Like asking of the hills to bring our help

Or something in a psalm

 

We don’t need a tube (that

Kind of lumen, as I understand it)

We can read

We can listen, better

(though we listen to the reading words, I’m sure)

 

More directly,

We can have an understanding

With all atoms we encounter

We can be grateful

 

A moment of small noise in which

We utter some

Thanksgiving

And with an attitude re-enter everything

 

C L Couch

 

 

What Do You Say, Dear? is a delightful and wise book by Sesyle Joslin, illustrated by Maurice Sendak.

 

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash

Chester, United Kingdom

 

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Lumen

Lumen

 

And if there might be something brief

Through which some color, texture pique

Something that says, let’s hope awhile

Let’s take the light

Whate’er we can

Let fire our receptors to

Ignite incumbent senses and

Help those withal

 

We have our space and time

And time to find inside

And when we can no longer bear

The creature in the garden will return

To make it right

At last

With everything contracted in

First promises

First days

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Katie Moum on Unsplash

Driving through the tunnel, the lights alongside, guiding our path beckoned me.

 

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You and Me, Sister

You and Me, Sister

 

There are all around us

Words, voices, noises all

That tell us how to live

What to buy

How to vote

How to understand the righteous way

To have our way

And somehow please the gods, made

Masks of self-will

And agenda

The presupposed mighty

Who believe this

 

Heavy understanding

As in labored, rasping breathing

Weighted with the chains of Ebenezer

Leaden steps to its own ruin of

The truth, the peace, the joy

Held captive in

The castle of the rich

Where it gets out as planned,

God is chained or

Does not exist

Whichever muttering in shadows works

For the next parched day

 

But there are shadows within shadows

Truth in chains

There are prophecies about antitheses

There are always prophecies

The magi before Herod

Nathan before David

Elijah and the attitude of Jezebel

Defeat of those who take and hold

For now

The gold crust of Earth

Annihilation of the profits (this kind,

please note)

In a pit and everything

That has propelled the wrong kind of

Dragon, not the jeweled interest bred in stories

But the beast, the pet, the ruler of rust

And melted riches

 

There are always prophecies

We need them

They stock our campaign

Give us words for songs

And dimensional conversation

To march us on the plain

Toward pointed everything

The real change that prophecy intrigues

The reason why the thing slouching

Toward Megiddo

Can be mocked, if not ignored

The devil’s own soft points

Paranoia, riled into defeat

 

We win

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by Manuela Milani from Pixabay

 

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