2 poems about the ending, the beginning
Panoply
I was thinking
Of the stars
In the Chronicles of Narnia
The stars
Who are people
Who had arrived here
Long ago
And the people-stars
Who will descend
In the last
Hours
A star
A sun
With a personality
Like the face
By Georges Méliès
For the moon
Except
The stars-as-people
Won’t have spaceships
In their left eyes
I guess
We have anthropomorphized
Everything that’s
Up there
And to place them up
When they
Are all around
A stellar populace
And are the comets missiles
Taking centuries to land
Because a century
To stars
Is an age of dinosaurs
On Earth
A stellar war
An interstellar war
With weapons
So slow
And more rarely hitting targets
As the universe has settled
That the gods of war
Must be red
In their frustration
For the cosmos
Clearly gives it up
No interest
In who wins
The interest is in
Sentience now
Like theirs
Worlds have it
And the possibilities
As life is
Sent around
First as microbes
Then support for all the lifeforms
As they grow
A day
An age
Inhabit all the Earth
As each Earth was made
Earthstruck
Early
Sun is prepping
Not appearing
Yet
Moon is tired
From its performing
Ready to set
To rest for a while
The stars in their courses
Seem confident
I think they will stay there
For a while
An age or more
Perhaps
An eon
If that’s longer
Then to fall
One by one
Onto the Earth
Of an apocalypse
Or so our own myth
Goes
And does the Earth expand
To catch the stars
Or will the stars
Actually send meteors
As
Representatives
Ahead of
Armageddon
How real is it all
All the blood
From the sky
And on the planet
Maybe
All of it shall happen
As depicted
And shall the saved
Be gone by then
Perhaps
Perhaps
Some of us must wait
Through tribulation
To send
The message
While there’s time
Even through the
Revelation horrors
Hurry up
Believe
More evidence around you
And the world is breaking up
Though there’s still time
Still pushing your agendas
Give them up
It’s over
But something new
And wonderful
Is coming
You shouldn’t want
To miss it
C L Couch
Ramandu (“star at rest”) and the daughter of Ramandu (no name given for her, though in the stories she is active) from The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis
Photo by Alex Shuper on Unsplash
All Days
(pandemic time)
July seems to be rushing
Toward conclusion
I’m not sure how that is
But there is a number at
The lower right-hand corner
That changes
Every day
And soon will be over
Maybe because it’s hard to
Tell the weekdays from
Each other
I was certain Sunday it was
Saturday,
Which should be the
Mind providing one more day
Rather than one less
But, you see,
All the days are merging
In self-quarantine
I imagine you know
What I mean
Some day we’ll be over it
Not because we say so
And we’ll look back in time
To wonder how we did it
With worse help
From Washington—well, there
I’ll need
To get beyond it, too
Not simply the spate of days
Cheers to August
More time for discovery
Maybe the science news
Like numbers for days
Will turn forward
C L Couch
Photo by Tim Umphreys on Unsplash
While shooting off fireworks on the Fourth of July, a summer storm rumbled in the distance. Crystal clear skies, beautiful stars, and picturesque lightning made for an incredible moment.
Ending
Sometimes things end
They really do
My friends have lost a cat
Who died
I knew him, too
We say each life is precious
Maybe we meant it when
We say it, too
But we act as if
A lack of consciousness
Has taken over
And nothing counts but what
We want,
A pile of what we want
I’m not sure what to do
About flowers
We need them for so many things
Plants, we have to eat them
Life for life?
There is no other way
Until we find the chemicals
That feed us without
Killing the planet
Or our insides
Even then, there will be carbon
The basis for all life
We must consume that, yes?
Then it will be gone until we are gone,
Blended back into the universe
Molecularly speaking
There must be an exchange
Small life for bigger life
Plants, maybe fish
Some think chickens are too stupid
To be let go
Maybe we made them that way
But there must be endings:
In the living things we eat
In the blood we surrender when
We are wounded
In the life we surrender
Because mortality is limited,
And all things
Might be finite
There is sex
That’s an ending, too
Even in release
In order to have life
Other things are ending
Measures of freedom
Money
If a lack can count as something
Lack of responsibility is ending
To have something new
Maybe it’s a cycle
Though miraculous each time
Unique like (and as) a new story
So there’s a mystery
Ending life to have life
The seasons teach us
Lessons in the trees
Even evergreens have seasons
Plants that are perennial
Plants that need replanting
New life that is spring
And what is new each day
I don’t like endings
The idea,
When it happens
Which might be why we
Salute an ending with some alcohol
The deading of some brain cells
So we might get over
Counting out mortality
And here’s an ending
Because there has to be one
C L Couch
Photo by Conor Firth on Unsplash
Fairytale Ending
As we read more
Learn more
Or seek the next sensation
We know they ended poorly
Tragically and violent
The ancient tales
Who sanitized them, I don’t know
Not Grimm, maybe Perrault
And Hans Christian Andersen who wrote
His own
Let’s not fault him
The contemporary cleaning crews we know
Let’s not revile
Who doesn’t wish for happy ending
Really, if you could craft your own
If you could have the one
If you could have the promise
That the next day will be better than
The present
While the one you have today is pretty good
Wouldn’t you
I would
I think you would, too
C L Couch
Por MykReeve on en.wikipedia (edited by Aqwis) – Image:Broadway-tower-cotswolds.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2575797
clcouch123 
Recent Comments