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gods

To the Rainmaker

(x = space)

x

x

To the Rainmaker

x

Cloudy day

Rain has started

Drought conditions

Keep raining

Please

x

Grateful ground

With people on it

Also thanking you

xxxxxAs if a liturgy

For crying on us

If that’s what this is

x

If you are sad with us

And why not

We are inhospitable

Toward Earth

While it’s our home

In all the ages

And should we take measures

To prevent

To recoil

(as in rolling up again)

To keep everything alive

x

Will we remember

To apologize

While planting?

To express our thanks

We still have days

For growth

For food

And to get it right

x

To the sky

The stars

Whatever gods

Or greater compounds

Might set over us

Or under us

To serve

With greater might

Than we shall ever know

x

Curb our hubris

Stop us before

The final act

Shall ruin everything

xxxxxAnd someone

xxxxxSomething

xxxxxCome from outside

xxxxxTo claim

xxxxxWhat’s left

x

While it’s still ours

If ours

Help us

Gods

The sky

xxxxxWhomever

Get it right

With what’s left

To have an Earth

Before

We dare to seek another

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

x

0

Entertaining Unaware

(x = space)

x

x

Entertaining Unaware

x

The Greek myth that

I like so much

About the couple who

Ends up entertaining gods

x

Then while at dinner

Having both

The pitcher and the plate

Fill with wine and grapes

Respectively

All the time

x

Comes to mind

When pouring out the last

Of the cream

From the carton

x

Hoping there’s enough for

A cup of coffee

By an acolyte

Of morning

x

Or whenever

Some plenty might be needed

Provided by maybe

A not-unknown

God

With perhaps

An agency of angels

x

C L Couch

x

x

Baucis and Philemon

Metamorphoses

x

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

Hebrews 13:2

x

Photo by mk. s on Unsplash

x

0

Metamorphoses

(x = space)

x

x

Metamorphoses

x

Exhale

Breathe through the eyes

On a blank page

Maybe the muse will whisper

Maybe not

Don’t we want

To take credit for our work?

I guess if we get help

Who’s to know about the muses?

They have nine names,

None of which we remember

Except Calliope,

The organ-like device

We used to hear at carnivals,

The quainter gatherings

In the USA

x

Do the gods

Visit on us here?

We have reruns of Xena

But does Zeus

Accost women here,

Later turning them to swans?

Does Apollo drive a golden chariot

Across the sky?

Do the Eumenides

Offer or receive libation

On behalf

Of mortals

Or against us,

Depending on our decisions

And our actions?

They would have met the other gods

Those of creation

And the forest

And the desert

And the sky

The spirits of

The Olmecs

And the Toltecs

Maya and Aztec

The Anasazi

And the Pueblo

x

I wonder how it went

When Jesus of the Europeans

Met the sun and harvest,

Weather gods

Of the Powhatan

Just outside of Roanoke

The colony

Where barriers met

Open trees

And waterways

I don’t mean to romanticize

The Powhatan had their problems

But to say the least

They were there first

They were here

First

I wonder how it goes

When gods meet gods

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by samson tarimo on Unsplash

x

1

Extraordinary Contract

(x = space)

x

x

Extraordinary Contract

x

And should there be

Devotion

Not for a deal

Though “if my people”

Sounds that way

x

But simply for love

There shall be healing

In the land

In the hearts of waves

And inside trees

And inside us

x

It sounds as if there’s

A contract

I suppose our avatars

Could act as agents

Though what creators

Might be needing

I can’t say,

Though gods have died,

We tell each other

For the lack

Of followers

x

Thus happened to Apollo,

Artemis,

Hephaestus

x

Creators need creations

Is that it?

Is that what’s to be believed?

If so, we bring material

To the table

In ourselves

For negotiation

x

A mingling of mortality

With divinity,

Flesh with spirit

Not Nephilim

But honestly

Our callings come together

So that there is today

And a promise of

The next day and the next

x

Flesh and spirit

Bargain of the ages

x

C L Couch

x

x

After German reunification, the Neue Wache was rededicated as the “Central Memorial of the Federal Republic of Germany for the Victims of War and Dictatorship.” The sculpture (by Käthe Kollwitz) shows a Mother with her Dead Son. The pietà-style sculpture is directly placed under the oculus, and so is exposed to the rain, snow and cold of the Berlin climate, symbolizing the suffering of civilians during World War II.

Photo by Marie Bellando-Mitjans on Unsplash

Neue Wache, Berlin, Germany

x

1

2 poems about parochial gods

(x = space)

x

x

2 poems about parochial gods

x

x

Anvil-Thinking

x

Sheesh, I wake up with more

Headaches

Under the metal

Of the skin

Someone has been hitting with

A hammer while I slept

Or gave a go

x

To anyone who suffers

With these things,

I’m sorry;

For those of you around them,

Take a moment to consider

x

I don’t know if it’s pollution

Of some kind

Or the tyranny of thought

That keeps us from free thinking

x

Well, more power

To you from the utility

Of time and grace

And maybe a surprise, that if

We try everything we know

(keep it safe, please—no

candles in the ear)

Then both of us will have

A better morning,

Thanks to

Maybe all our household gods

x

Leave an offering

Of grain upon the hearth

x

Photo by Bruce Kee on Unsplash

Patrica, Italy

x

x

No Contest

(1 Kings 18:20-40)*

x

Are there false gods

Or gods who are false?

Are there true gods

Who like to lie

And treat penitents with

Indiscretion?

Does Ba’al not exist

Or did it not give its profits

What they wanted?

x

Maybe it cows before

The God of Israel

Who holds the truth

That displays

Are for the chumps

While true belief

Has no need

x

And so Elijah won

The contest because to him

It was no deal:

Light a fire on wet wood?

Not only is it nothing

It proves nothing

x

Belief is a fire

Somewhere else,

And faith lives out a lifestyle of

Easy miracles

x

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Kings%2018:20-40&version=ESV

*verse 40 is especially brutal

x

Photo by sarina gr on Unsplash

Forest

Campfire at night!

x

x

C L Couch

x

x

x

3

K is for Kalliope

K is for Kalliope

 

Transliterated from old Greek,

Eldest and leader of the Muse

Sisters, Muse of song and

Public articulation—in other

Words, speech-delivery

 

She had a son, an artful maker,

Too—he was killed; and his

Mother took his remains to

Enshrine them on Lesbos, an

Ancient isle, which we might

Visit today

 

Were she to sing in our

Parlance and with our take

On life’s matters:

 

I inspire your song and speech

And go unrecognized

 

Most no longer believe that

Mortal skills come from a sacred

Start

 

I might sing again, though first

Would be the labor in mourning

For all I have lost

 

My boy, who was murdered

For envy or rage (I care not

Which) and whose grave

Molders in an island pit bereft

Of laurel leaves

 

Orpheus, as well my son,

Whose sanctioned journey into

Hell yet lost him his wife in

Petty business of Hades and

The underworld’s rule (I

Respect them not)—his life was

Left to sorrow like mine

 

And your interest? Why would

Gods matter to you?  All

Divinity is mitigated in belief,

Mostly unexpressed, that you

Shall save yourselves—

 

Foolish

 

You will need us, still

 

 

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

6

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