(sorry, this is long—for what it’s worth, it’s in three parts: you could read one part and then another, later; thanks for reading either way or at all; oh, and there are notes below
do I need one title over this? maybe Obbligato or better Ad Libitum)
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Ad Libidum
(a journey like Dante, Odysseus, or the hero in The Hero and the Crown)
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takeover
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am I under attack?
maybe in a kind of
Screwtape way
with subtleties
sly distractions
angers
and a state of frustration
the Lewis pegged
the twentieth century
the corporate lies
we tell
the bureaucracies
like gods
we serve
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more personally
I have given in
and sometimes I wonder
about dreams
and the waking-up
disoriented
as if I don’t know the room
I’ve tried to sleep in
over years
or maybe
it’s more obvious
something negative
takes over
and gets worse
and there is nothing else
to see
or taste
or in which to believe
all is lust
without commitment
theft of energies
when I have none
or
destruction
of the normal
and the decent
and expected
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overthrown
by unnatural surprise
and then
in praise of nothing
self-destruction
taking as many molecules
as I may
with me
and I have lost my hope
in you
there is no you
only targets
and sensations
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all bad
all going nowhere
all sin
a rage that blinds
as if
I were a vengeful hero
though the song has turned
into
spinning anger
promising an end
to something good
and maybe
long-lasting
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though I have kicked out
oaths and promises
in favor of
the awful
ending
now
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x
after-action
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the end
might be an exorcist
something has to give
has to go
revelation
just in time
or on the morning after
or even the next hour
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confession?
well
all is ego
and there is no ego
so there be sneering
at the thought
or comment
of remediation
in other words
stop
simply stop
for now
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breathe
think
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what’s in pieces
might be brought
together
or it might take faith
more than
either of us has
lingering beliefs
now shattered
lying all around
filtering the air
with a severity
of sin
to breathe
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it could be theft
returning what was taken
it could be consumption
spent
and maybe inhalation
bring it back again
or something more
someone else
with something else
mercy, anyway
and love
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and so
Dante might be saved
by Beatrix
once having felt the invitation
of the lowest circle
Satan and archdemons
forever frozen
and forever flying
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purgatorio
to gain a paradiso
stopped there
while back through
the circles
their numbers decrease
I rise
and that which saves
rise with me
‘til I reach the saving soil
of normal Earth
and a chance
because I’m here
(no other reason
for the wrong)
and have a day
an hour
handful of seconds
for
you know
repentance
penitence
sorrow to grieve
hope in the quiet
after
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the demons lash elsewhere
they lick the stamps
of their agendas
sent from cubicles
and corner offices of hell
while I might be clear
and on a hillside
or other rim of Earth
know the sky
throughout the hours
and the saving grace
of what I know
the God
of sun and moon
sisters and brothers
equidistant from the light
who believe
and hope
and try
with me
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inferno
purgatorio
what now
the paradiso?
maybe
maybe another day
for figuring
then let go the numbers
except one
perhaps
and three
and then everything
is countless
for a universe
and you and I
are two and one
and there’s nothing more
complex
than faith and hope
and love
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disposition
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while we might breathe clear
of Earth
on Earth
as in heaven
all dimensions
obeisant
at the last
and we live forever
like a day
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c l couch
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quite plainly, a description of a process of spiritual warfare, guessed at through the ages, I try at it pedestrianly today
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works cited (sort of)
The Screwtape Letters
The Divine Comedy
The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley
other things, I’m sure
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Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash
Even the Dead have their tasks.
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clcouch123 
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