Play On
Ritchie
Shakespeare
Imagine
A Greek tyrant
Wanting to recline
The empress of China
A maharajah wile
Inventing chess
A serf requesting
At a wedding
In the town
Near the church
An indigenous anywhere
In freer times
Asking for a harmony
‘Twixt the spirits of the sky
And the ground
Maybe the soil
A supplication for good growth
A lady of the Medici
Also in tyranny
Why not
The queen of heaven
Of the angels
Or God upon the first
Easy sabbath
That there be music
To accompany
The vibrations of creation
Please
Who can
And please
Who will be pleased
Play on
C L Couch
Photo by Riley Bartel on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
The Lonely Makers
(an accounting for geneses)
x
There is God
There is the Spirit
There has been Christ
As we have the story
There is Christ
Before Sarah
In fact
To speak to bring the world
Ex nihilo
Into something
x
The world was made in six days
Each day therein
An age
Such as the day of the dinosaur
Or the days of Camelot
Count twenty-four
God could do it
But there was void at first
Then light and dark
How shall one count
In that
Before the world of clocks
x
Christ speaks
And all is made
The Spirit moves
Behested to breathe life
After the first
Breath
Into the sky
Over the water
x
Abstracts are done
And then
The species
Of the Earth
Come forth
x
Creatures
With small spirits
Even
Our own
x
Breathed out of dust
To live
To make our way
To make
Our own
Shares in creativity
By will
Because later on
We ask for this
Alone
And alone
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Christine Kozak on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Machine Libation
x
All the things released
On the page,
Admittedly a page of electrons
And in this
There is a soupcon of fright
Over outages
And lack of a printer
And greater thankfulness
Over an awful
Writer’s cramp
That only bends (now)
The typing hand
Now and then
x
There are notebooks, too,
When away
Maybe simply outside
Sometimes they are remembered
With the pens
And releases in our minds
To work another way
While in the nothingness
Of expectation
x
Keep writing, children
(painting
or reworking
the clay of Earth
or off our feet
or work in something else),
We hear her say
And all the sibling muses
With the gods of creativity
From other places
Other realms
Inside the moving circles
When they meet
And maybe grind
Like rims of
Metal upon metal
x
These vie
For inspiration
When we are worth it
x
Thank goodness,
We are worth it
x
And for the media
The usefulness of anything
The service of technology
And pens and pencils
(paints, clay
things we find)
Crayons, when we have them,
With some paper
x
What we keep
What we discard
Ashes in safety
Or simply as a metaphor
For muses
Or spirits from
Other places
Or, say,
Only the mind
x
Thanks, any part
Or anyone
And everyone
Everything
Anything
That serves
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Jahz Gonzalez on Unsplash
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