sun angles through glass
by the panes make frames of light
inspiring our art
c l couch
photo by Alin Gavriliuc on Unsplash
2 disparate poems (one poem about church, the other about art)
church time
liturgy
a language for the church at prayer
though we can go through
the mass book
on our own
the missal
I should say
not sacred language
in whatever language
unless
there is a translation
of glossolalia
but
as far as I know
normal words
that
enable me to go through
devotion
or a service
on my own
or two could
do
and this is church
is
said
that two or three are gathered
and no more
which means I’m not
a church
by myself
and
should have company
in prayer
and worship
(prayer for worship)
if
we want this to be church
as if it’s us
there is
perhaps while in the formal feeling
again
I ask
does art come from pain
and must it
always
love what we do
do what we love
we’re told
trite
cliché
advice a trope
along with dream big
I suppose
and
we know that life is hard
the artist thrown out from the start
or
disenfranchised once
the vision’s owned
because
normalcy
without a challenge is what’s
paid for
and
not the art
except that it appear
magic
at the show
someone decides to buy it
for
colors that complement
or
honestly could be because someone
is moved
(and
the colors complement)
never pay the artist
though
assuming
grants
or commissions
that for most
are in an air
too rare to breathe
and so
we go like the bohème
in a garett that’s happy enough
while
poor
until the poverty should bring disease
without a cure to pay for
by medicine
or
southern Italy
with the means to rest
and so
sun-heal
and I exaggerate
and
don’t
and so after
losing
what
the ordinary company of
one
next to another
having lost most of the world
already
there is work
and it might be art
and
I think shall be
proving
the thesis of the ages
I suppose
except for those who were not poor
to art
who
I imagine
started out that way
by something else
and then the provocations
to the institutions
true
freedom and creation
that outcast
as they please
c l couch
photo by The Cleveland Museum of Art on Unsplash
Harmonious Times, Paul Signac
the work of art
maybe it’s the tension of creation
of sensing
something different
to be
remade
and so reconsidered
there’s simply the beauty
in the difference
of the thing
colors
angles used in other ways
untypical
exhibiting by protest no matter
how
genial
the showing and
the gathering
the sips of wine and such
the room décor
the thing
once owned
should complement
though there was the making
and the message with
remains
to rise
time and again
through the risks of close
appreciation
and
reaction
c l couch
photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash
inexactitude
1
first full day of summer
the solstice
slides around
though it’s our calendars
you know
and the inexact nature
of the world
as is
and maybe as should be
as
you know
the foundation
of everything
our math is built on pi
our philosophy
inexactitude
uncertainty
plussed or minused
into everything
we cannot count
without
knowing there’s less or more
the rings of everything
aren’t worried
about the x and y and
z axes
shall work
in angling somehow
off other
they work
it works
we work
and that is
all we know
and all we really need to know
2
who came up with this
uncertainty
some might say
the devil
though I think it was
the Lord
everything
a thing
and everything in motion
all the time
we measure
we presume to stop the thing for
numbers
but the thing keeps moving
everything keeps moving
so what can we know
okay
okay
well
maybe enough
for jazz
here is the formula we made
plus or minus jazz
3
the glory
by the way
that jazz is
a syncopated tribute
to creation
in a day
of
twenty-three hours
fifty-six minutes
plus seconds
for change
or the day
of an age
say
the jazz age
or how about
a day
as in the day
of thunder-lizards
or the day
of Arthur
of Morgaine
c l couch
photo by Igor Omilaev on Unsplash
The Exchange
A gray day
A featureless sky
No help there
For interest
Or advice
So what shall I say to you
You know
I ask this
On most days
And sometimes
Write into an answer
Or write
Many things
And one thing turns out
Acceptably
I know the first
Judge
Of things
Is me
And I could be sorry
For that
But this is what I have
I have (or have) to write
You read
You respond
If only to react
And there you are
Writing
Photographing
Painting
All the colors at your beck
(for the words
as well)
And you’ll share something
And I’ll
Read
Or look
And if I’m smart
I’ll
Listen
As we listen
And be changed
Life in the blogosphere
Though actually
Life in art
And honestly
In business
Too
We have to find
Something attractive
To buy in
And there are laws of
I understand
Attraction
So there is exchange
And a go-around
Of growth
And opportunity
Back to art
Well
All of it is art
The theory and the vision
Adding the science of
Application
To expression
(expression
crossing
any boundaries between
the schools)
And I guess the part about business
Is a way of saying
The abstract
Is practical
While where
It seems not
It is necessary
As in vital
As in vita
That is life
C L Couch
Photo by Caryn Sandoval on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Sectarian or Secular
x
God
Be good to us
Today
x
Don’t give us mercy
Or distraction
Give us charges without directions
Save what we believe
x
And if without belief
Then with what good we know
Tempered by
Community
Check-and-balance ways
Human and humane
To get things done
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Rowan Simpson on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Shadowlands
x
Plato
C. S. Lewis
My hand by
The computer light
Shadows with shadows,
I suppose
With something firmer
On the other side
That could be relied on
For an eternity
Something waiting
Something inspiring
An ideal
A world of ideals
That’s what we learned
In school
So what have we here?
Which world shimmers
For the other
Though we presume
The other world’s better?
What do we sense here?
What do we make?
What lasts?
We have our treasures
And we try to keep them
We use guards
We have alarms
Things might fade anyway
Or break
And we keep making
Stockpiling art
With care
In both kinds of caves
Like those who aren’t so well-
Obsessed with money
Or better
With a hope for all
The way we might stockpile food
And why not
Against the day
Except for exigent hunger
(there should be enough
for both)
x
Yet if they’re right
We’ll have it all again
Art and food
Anything of profit
By virtue,
Perfect there
And permanent
And with ourselves, perhaps,
Polished and redeemed
As on this side
We sometimes polish
Precious metal with
Satisfaction after
That self-effacing
Might be and become
A shimmering
Evangelism:
Grand art, you see,
And easy,
Arduous science
For both
x
C L Couch
x
x
the verse alludes to Plato’s allegory of the cave
x
the title is a term that is a metaphor for mortal life
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
Arts and Sciences
x
It used to be
That art was the vision
Science the practice
(of the vision)
Thus there was connection
As between birth
And grown-up life
That was not ineffable
But practical
Workable
For visioning, producing
Of an age
x
Now we don’t like each other
The theoretical
The practical
We grumble and we look
The other way
Well, to our way
If we must, we sigh
Whisper nearly sotto voce
For a bit of theory
Or a bit of usefulness
Or industry
x
Music, math
The Renaissance
Philosophy
Reading, writing
How to build community
Through argument
And pipes
And water fountains
Statuary for the ages
Buildings that make sense
Can be maintained
And are beautiful
x
They’re coming back, perhaps
I see new works in small towns
Better than returning is
Moving forward
Time for a new alliance
New connections
New community
x
Make new friends
And keep the old;
One is silver
And the other gold
Not bad for an age
Every day a merger
Every breath a hope
In vision
Words
Plans
Building
And-or preserving
The streets, the place,
And planet
We all live along
Each one
Each other
x
C L Couch
x
x
Light in the Law Quad
Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash
x
“Make New Friends” is a scout and camp song (a round) whose creators are unknown and whose lyrics have variations.
x
(x = space)
x
x
3 poems for summer solstice
x
x
Merry July
x
Solstice
It’s summer now
Summer weather smacks us
Here
Temps aiming for 90
I guess in Australia
New Zealand
New Guinea
Little America
Winter is begun
Throw logs on the fire
Sing winter carols
Withholding Christmas and
The other holidays
‘Til the start of summer
In December
Christmas in July
A custom mostly mercantile
In the north
Could be the real thing
With trees and
Were it high enough
Some snow
Ornaments and lights
Certainly
Merry Christmas in
Alice Springs
Wellington
Tierre del Fuego
On the Falklands
At the southern pole
Santa’s summer home
Like winter
x
x
Intentions
x
God, what shall I
Say to you?
I worship you
In contemporary ways
I’m sorry for sins
You have seen in me
And known for centuries
I thank you for your presence
Having made all good things
And the ways to deal
With the bad
I ask of you
To welcome home
Those who die
And heal those who live
Cure cancer
End war
Well, I can ask
x
x
Siblinghood
x
It’s like science fiction
Slipping out of time
Our of normalcy
Eating meals on time
Cleaning on a schedule
Ingrained expectations
Instinctive, conditioned
Responses
x
To fall outside of these
To live with fewer clothes
To hope for decent meals
In penury,
To dream of trips
But only travel like Thoreau
Walking to and from
The town
x
Everything else happens
On the inside
How sad this is
At least how strange
But there’s a purpose
Those who fall outside
Will look back
And when not wistful
Will prophecy
In art
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Saint John’s (Midsummer) Fire at Dragør Beach (Denmark)
XSimon, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53634435
x
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