Open in Case of Regrets
Oh
It’s Friday
And a Valentine’s
And loneliness
The watchword of the day
Because
We culturally
Say so
Which is too bad since
Each day is a gift of twenty-four
With
Sixty minutes each
Which is one thousand four hundred
Forty for
A number that
Numerically
Is
Something of a gift to have
For each of us
And if you’re sad today
For whatever reason
Then
I’m sorry
By way of fractured sympathy
Since I don’t know you well enough
For whole
And
Still
I wish you well
And maybe you have those
Near
To whom
To reach
And there should be trust
To say
How are you
And may I tell you
How I am
C L Couch
(next year replace the Friday with I don’t know a Saturday I should think)
Photo by Linus Belanger on Unsplash
a poem for a prayer, a poem of a real story with (by me) a made-up lyric
first light
God
I ask again
for steps out of the pit
for evil to be vanquished
(the
antique word)
if only enough for
daylight enough when a
last step is taken
and
even gray daylight
for a shadowed kind of existence
might
be reached
good
enough
evil down enough
to raise me up
with all good comrades
here
(good perhaps another antique
word)
enough
if once street-level
we might
if
we may
talk with you some
more
the time when Seamus Heaney had to write something
(based on a story he told us)
she said
on arriving at the party
to find that
everyone had brought a gift
to the poet
well
go upstairs and write something
and then
I suppose he read
to us
what we had written
for the family
and in particular the baby
as in
you are born
and now you are named
you have been christened and so
liturgically
official
and we glad to know
what
to call you
for first your parents have decided
though
the law of nicknames might
apply
welcome
baby
from the mind of God
into the world
earthly and when things are allied
celestial
(Heaney visited the school, not yet a Nobel laureate)
c l couch
photo by Tony Litvyak on Unsplash
drop of love
(a phrase by GraceoftheSun)
which has me think
of the Rubaiyat
of Omar
Khayyam
(because I guess there
could
be other rubaiyats)
in which
we
famously do
read
a loaf of bread
a jug of wine
and thou
(translated)
and maybe such a drop
could be poured
from
such a jug
to share and make the love
sometimes in wine and often
in poetry
clc
Thanks, Grace!
https://graceofthesun.com/gesture/
photo by Yucel Moran on Unsplash
an eccentric consideration of whose day with bows and arrows
Valentine’s
in a little while
(there
you have a free reminder)
named
and erstwhile remembered
for a saint
with followers
and they sent notes of
love
that was encouragement
against prison also
persecution
generally
wherever the believers might have lived
or might have had
to hide
we’ve added pink and lace
cut flowers
with
of course
the chocolate
at least for those not allergic to
chocolate or
flowers
or lace or pink
for whom we learn
what else might delight
and so
acquire and present these
and I guess
it has become a day
for two
and not for more
and not for
one
and
sorry
we put pressure on ourselves
at any number
that might have started
in some places with
peers and
cards
and crafted mailboxes
in classes
and maybe there was a rule
that everyone
give
everyone a greeting
and how socially
disastrously
all that might have gone
and
then
we grew into
the grown-up versions
of all that
so that might I aske
simplicity
anew
to pinkly and lacily approve
however many
shall
have the day and night
of Valentine’s
I’m sure
the eponymous hagiographic presence
would be
pleased
as there might be something to
the ministry
of saints
for each
and two
and three of more
and
all of us
have a good
pink or unpink
day
n.b.
and oh
yes
we let Cupid in
the imp from ancient Grecian
lore
to shoot
two hearts with love
and so
eccentrically
and maybe in reverse-order show
that
love hurts
so
my
we might the candy
after all
n.b. 2
and we know
or may
know
in that it’s
open for us that
God loves us
anyway
through our wisdoms
and our follies
even more than Cupid
who is
mischief
after all
c l couch
photo by Shayna Douglas on Unsplash
the USA penny
(for Lincoln’s birthday on the twelfth of February)
it is our first coin
it is ubiquitous
it is
of course
an honor
that goes both ways
in that
we might be honored to
carry him
say
in a purse or
in a pocket near the hip
or thigh
and should we
change
well
our change
when we’ve decided that we
don’t have to say
ninety-nine to avoid
calling
the next dollar up
maybe
the penny will go out
to the darkness
on the pages
inside
of
numismatists
we’ll carve his imagine onto
a greater coin or
print him
on a bill of altitudinous
value
or find
some way
still everywhere to have him
near
remembering
by what credit he may
own
(and
does)
the nation that
should be
ours
all
of ours
all
and so maybe toward
a virtuous
such an integral
legacy
as well
c l couch
photo by Acton Crawford on Unsplash
penny floor tiling at the Maven Hotel
Denver, Colorado (USA)
yesterday I posted a poem for Presidents Day (USA), which for some reason I thought was yesterday and not a week from then; well, if you’re looking for something for the day, now you’ll be ready—and sorry
presidence
today is a day
for
Presidents
we know because of
time off
and the sales
but for Presidents
there have some good ones
and some
bad
ones
and we might say that’s
only human
but in addition to conniving
of the parties
and the money
behind
the money
there is will
as well
and so many words to affirm
in ideals
to the nation
that provide
no excuse
for not
trying to serve
us
which is the only reason
the position was
created
though partisans might differ
but
the one
and following
the preamble plus
everything that follows
must confirm
c l couch
photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
devotion to try
(with the help of church to hope)
devotion is
thought
feeling
a decision
we follow God
we pray
and claim to God
in worship
we also learn of God
and faith
and love
agape
together so that
when apart
we might do well
we might do
better
and we take this with us
all of it
devotion overall
to inform and encourage
our response
and our initiative in
living
the six days
and how many hours
and with
a much longer view even of
years and
longer after years
c l couch
photo by Amy Tran on Unsplash
on snowy evenings
an early evening when
sleet pings on the window pane
behind me
while I write
and try to write
to say something not likely
pithy
yet a touch
maybe to a point
and to
confess it
or to let
the setting like
the season stand alone
the dark and cold and icy rain I know
and thinking of a friend’s
father
who died last night
surrounded by faithfulness
it seems
and yet
I’m sad for her
and maybe I should let the night before
and the night behind me
do the talking
now
about
what feels separate and
in faith
might not be
a union shown by fact
someday
c l couch
photo by Anastasia Zolotukhina on Unsplash
the quiet hour sings
without music or lyrics
symphonic peace plays
c l couch
(to me, the haiku is hard—but it’s Friday afternoon going late, and this came to mind and got with some revision on the page
if you may and can, I hope you have a pleasant winter—or whenever it might be, where you are—weekend)
photo by Luise and Nic on Unsplash
clcouch123 
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