The News
There’s a vicious edge
On everything
Jobs, relationships
Jokes, games
Living in our neighborhoods
Like adding blades to shoes
Not for skating
But for slicing into Earth when
We walk or run,
Until the planet bleeds
C L Couch
Photo by Isi Parente on Unsplash
Humilitas
And does he have the shoulders
For the world, and shall
We place a wheel and turtle
Under him as well
Maybe add a hazelnut
The world on an axis,
On a pin
Where angels dance
And wait for orders
To Megiddo and apocalypse
And is everything so fragile
A speck of virus brings us down
Remembering that vanity
Leads us to the feet of Ozymandias
One day
Maybe today
And should Atlas need some help
Before his feet have slipped
And all the foundation
Maybe what we have in orbit
Could help
If not, we might also
Ask what we are doing there
I’ve left off
The marks, signs
Of use and abuse,
Because they stand
As statement, too
There is a quality should save us,
If we understand
Its works
It doesn’t mean stop everything
Or ball up into fetal uselessness
In fact, it calls for greater
Energy and effort
That simply will not pay
The same
But will save the fragile, spinning Earth
Of us
And all we’ve done to
Knock it off its pinions
And platforms
And should it have a course
To meet faces of other worlds
And the face of God,
Should all or any have us
C L Couch
Photo by GMB Monkey on Unsplash
Chin-Up on Rings
Earthwise
God, it seems
You’re quiet
While outside there’s noise
The promise of a storm
You could be speaking through
The storm, I guess
I’ve never known you that way
Though there are limits
On my listening
Maybe if I were shaman-wise
I’d understand your language
In the trees
And through the rain
And if the thunder means
You’re angry or
You’re sad or making declarations
Or nothing of the sort
Since I’m sure
The flowers speak as well
As all things
On their own
You split the sky
The earth rises
Smaller creatures scurry
They know where
We’re here, and
We don’t understand
All that would be given
If we didn’t try
To take it first
God, this is
A prayer
For peace among ourselves
So we might get
The message sent
That everything and
Everyone has voice
Especially the quiet
And with our senses
And with more
We might receive the word
That starts
The universe
And also
Brings us home together
C L Couch
Photo by Glenna Hopper on Unsplash
Isle of Sky
Summits
Hi, Earth
I hope you’re doing well
Though I know you’ve
Been beset with challenges
The heat is rising
Water, too
Islands in the Chesapeake are
Disappearing
And I know this because
It’s local
What is going under elsewhere?
I’ve read about the polar regions,
Too
That’s big news
In every way
What about the corners I don’t
Know of
Who is in those corners who
Know nothing of me?
Oh, Earth
You’re probably in trouble
And it’s probably our fault
I count on nature’s
Indifference, but I think it’s getting angry
Could a tornado or a hurricane
Be vengeful?
Hail in indictment,
Earthquakes cracking open
Rage, eruptions open wounds
That must have their way?
I don’t know
There is romance in nature, too
I don’t want to lose that
There’s gold in the ocean
Silver in the sky
Diamond where’s there clarity
Gemstone colors everywhere
Though the real wealth
Should be love and understanding,
Which of often indicates
A partnership
Is that still possible?
I want to know you, Earth
Travel all your courses
And maybe, were it possible,
To find something new
We could meet around a rock,
So many of us
Celebrate your sponsorship
Of human possibility
Resources for
Exploration
But we must give something
Of our own, speaking for
My kind
We can’t attend the rock-table
Empty-handed
With something in our pockets
No tricks up our sleeve
It’s too ideal, isn’t it?
We’re too cantankerous on
Either side
I wouldn’t be surprised to find
We both have our illusions
To fool each other, yes
Also to keep us going
You there,
Us here
It’s cynical
It’s fearful
It’s not, to use another idiom,
(we make idioms of you
salt of the you,
for instance)
Cards on the table
So what to do, then
We simply go on, as is?
I cry
You rain
We terrify each other
Ruin things as well
Us by force of will
You by an imbalance
That certain Protestants would say
It our fault, too
Finally, I can only speak for us
And our own
Will and ingenuity
For all you have and all we take
Oh, Earth, I ask of all
We must find ways
To give each other chances
C L Couch
Photo by Denis Linine on Unsplash
The Martians
I feel a mechanical breeze
And I’m thankful
There’s real light in here
And from the lamps
Thank goodness for invention
As for my invention,
I’m not sure what to write about
A kind of hazy, light-colored day
Or the gift of light,
Colors on the rest
I think were I on Mars
I’d see there were a tint
Or some kind of curtain lowered
Over everything
Maybe eventually
I’d see the ochre tones as normal
That this is color for a Martian
My transitory home
‘Til there be oxygen in the sky
To breathe
And then what of the color?
Maybe it would look like Earth
A baby blue on everything
Though ancient Martians
If only microbe denizens
Could no longer
Look on home
C L Couch
Dirt Gospel
I like earth
Don’t you?
Some might prefer concrete
I’ll take a covering of pine needles
To walk upon
Breathe air that’s evergreen
Then move out to an open
Space of grass and rock and dew
That takes us home
That would be a day
C L Couch
Photo by Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash
Benevolence in Apocalypse
(4 parts)
1
God,
I wish you’d take us out of this
The way you took us out of Eden
Bring us back
But all of us, please
No one on the world’s side of the gate
Except maybe so many angels
Restoring everything
To where it was
No, where it will be
2
Maybe it happens every age
A garden and a promise of plenty
And forever,
Then we ruin it
Because will is more important than
Whole people
Eden is closed off again
The angel with the flaming sword returns
While we are exiled
On the other side
‘Til in the next era, Eden is offered yet again
While human discretion
With all good and bad proclivities
Cannot work it out
Especially in numbers
We are cast out again
3
Comes an age, there must
When human will
Becomes a complement, at last
We understand we have a place
It is not owning everything,
Which is too jarring on creation
And creation will,
As it does,
Push back
But we knew we are a part,
It is sufficient, and there’s always room
To have what we should have
And to grow
Throughout the age so that
There is no need for the next one
All will not burn in fire
Or die upon the ice
We will have instead
The drama of a fitting universe
With enough unknown to hold us
Wrapped-up wondering inside
4
And should there still be
Curiosities, even evil, out there
Should we be surprised?
There was a war in heaven, after all
Maybe it will not have been worked out
Everywhere we go
Meaning pre-heaven we will have
Important things to do
Discoveries to make
Victims to rescue
Cosmos, maybe cosmoses, to save
C L Couch
scratching the sky
Let Those Who Have Ears to Hear, Hear
(remembering the literal deaf hear better than most)
It’s odd to look outside
And see warm darkness
It should be colder, it’s December
In the immediacy of it, I don’t
Mind so much
It’s cool, my favorite kind of time
And whole cool days and nights are the best
But it feels like October
When October felt like August
It’s a good thing there’s no climate change
Those with no authority (the authority
of observation, anyway)
Have said so
But it is warmer
And after the convenience,
The warmer polar weather and
Elsewhere will turn catastrophic
There will so much evaporation from
The ground that in the air
There will be greater condensation,
Which leads to cloud cover
That can introduce another Ice Age
Earth had not been planning for,
Not yet
The irony of global warming,
We will have planetary winter
And unending
So what do we do?
You and I? I do not know
Listen to the scientists, the ones
Not in departments, ‘til they
(and they)
Are freed
Challenge corporations
Not because they are evil
But because they can be good
A new Earth-winter won’t serve
Them, either
Nations and industries will have to work
In tandem, and we mean it this time
We can make new jobs
And offer living wages, too
No real reason not to
If we remember that the Earth should be
Blue and green, mostly
All the other colors in their places
It really is a splendid sphere
That shines uniquely in the local heavens
If we decide that
Breathing air outside is good
Drinking water, too
Having grass and leaves to walk upon
Stones to climb
If we reason that a living planet’s better
Well, there is no better start,
Is there?
And now to join
Talk and move
Breathe and drink
Live as the Earth we need
And want
C L Couch
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Fenton, Michigan, United States
Frozen Lake
Regarding the Earthlings’ Case
Winter is a freezing time
Up north
Down south, when it’s time
Though there seem to be extremes
Among, inside
The peaks of the Andes
The ice-steppes under which
Somewhere is land
This is Antarctica
Wide colonies of wildlife
I’m not saying we don’t have these
In the north,
But often they are left alone down there,
And a meaning to keep it that way
I don’t know,
Eventually the Andes will wear down,
Which is natural
But the shelves around the South Pole
That slip away in parts
The breakage in icebergs
Bigger and bigger
And ill-timed
Don’t you think there might be
An irregular reason for these?
That we, in fact, precipitate all the early
Slides affecting
Millions of square meters?
I ask to be polite,
Though there is no courtesy in wreckage
On the Earth
By our fair hands
Become dirt-ridden
(the dishonest kind of dirt)
And plastic
The profit of pollution
While we’ve stopped talking about ozone
And the protections
We are ruining
Until they go elsewhere
Care for another place
While well-received
Soon we will need rescue from ourselves
By whom, I also do not know
If there’s a Martian league
Or on blue Venus
Might come over to assist
Then exact a price, because
There must be justice in
The Solar System
C L Couch
Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash
Andromeda
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