2 poems about fire
by an imagined flame
a clear
hot
day and like the gray
to be inside
to pretend a fire
for the scene
of
reading
even to imagine pets curled
around one’s satisfaction
oval rug
curves in the seating and the cycling
of
friendship
through it all
‘round the truth
and
to assuage the fear of what
might
have gotten to us first
and more
but by some
measures to regard
and
put in practice
for the peace in dealing
be it
clearly well or
adulterated by pain in the now
as
well as pain before
recalling
that pain is fear
as well
good fire
by the real flame
which
is not by
but
in
you know
if you’ve heard
or
you were made to go
to school to
learn the faith
and now
apply
and so the fire is within
traveling from heart
to brain
and back again for
more
normalcy or pressure in a situation
to share and to assuage by
every source
within us
in
the crisis
the source of fire
within
because we had it come from
without
to live
and to be standing by
like
orders issues so
long ago as to be by creation’s rings
when set and first called
good
c l couch
photo by Kyle Peyton on Unsplash
uneasy under the sun
(maybe a Prufrockian telling)
it’s hot
I drive under the sun
hoping to leave the car
once
parked
to get inside
before the heat
sights too directly and too
much on me while I
in turn am
targeting
the heated keyhole
with
keys already warm
so
it seems
and hopefully soon out
of my pocket
on
their way to
the old
dense
green wooden door of
the eccentric-angled yellow house
with the broken portico under
hopefully
again to navigate
which
is not the heat
but every day
and there it is the rounded poorly-matted
stoop
the lock
key inside beneath the wave
yet
breathing
maybe to sneeze
in fact
from the central air
only on the first floor
not
on mine
(sadly the solar crests do not
engender
mermaids on waved rocks
or
on my street by
sunlit bricks)
c l couch
photo by NASA on Unsplash
more or less a cycle about the summer heat (and never satisfied)
ashen
rain would be nice
and cooler weather
or
rain and keep it
tropical
for compromise
we need rain
I need rain
I keep on asking
don’t I
sorry to be a pest
but it’s the dust outside
from jackhammering
and
cigarettes
all by the workers
whom I don’t want
to begrudge
anything
having work
getting paid
sponsoring their lives
it’s the detritus
I suppose
what is left over
that I’m breathing
after the job
lean in
lean into it
some things work like
that
work better
with the angle and assertion
but for some
things
such as fast sailing
lean away
and go no other
angles matter
a direction sometimes
matters
oh how happy we’ll be
to breathe in ocean air
something
about
the chemicals reacting
I am sure
but
it feels good
regardless
of the science or
religion
not
to say don’t believe
in either
frankly
but
to relish in inhaling God has
given
and we dissect
if it’s only air
By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea
You and I, you and I, oh how happy we'll be
hot
how does it go
it’s too darn hot
not
in the desert
mind you
though it is a dry heat
I hear
and have
experienced
funny
how one thinks
the desert is just fine
when
there are things
of course
it will do to me
and
you
if we’re not careful
and that depends
on how much intrusion
humans
have made with stores
and
gasoline
cold water
and snacks
meaning
thank goodness for
Seven-Eleven
where
it’s hot
sing
too darn hot
song by Cole Porter
when we wish
yes
it could rain
and then rain
and then there be a flood
with
the demon sidling
what do you
want
you’re never satisfied
the irony
of
what we need
and
dare we ask a genie
one of the djinn
as a trickster
or might we trust
better angels
and overall
divinity
to presume on our behalf
discretion
and
parameters
in other words
rain
please
enough rain
please
c l couch
photo by Anna Goncharova on Unsplash
it could rain
and why not so that
after
we might breathe better
the dust from the work on the street
tamped
down some if even washed away
the heatwave crash a little on
the shore
of our discomfort
though another wave
sigh
should form out there
so it’s a simple
prayer
help and amen
c l couch
photo by MARIOLA GROBELSKA on Unsplash
Earth out
last one here
before the last ship leaves
think about
turning off the lights
who knows
we could come back
or someone
to try the switch
light up our story
if only
a little
while it’s so hot and hard to breathe today
c l couch
photo by Piotr Gaertig on Unsplash
Blameless Solstice
Sun
With clouds
And lightning
Animate the forecast map
At noon
And I’m thinking
On line
These are the days
Of our lives
To come
Starting
Tomorrow
While today is
Simply hot
Well
“Steamy”
In the Southern
Or the tropical
Way
That is the grid
For the next week
Or so
We’re sliding
Into summer
So we might
Wonder
What is next
In our
Region
Relative
To the world
C L Couch
Photo by USGS on Unsplash
Maur Adrar Desert
(we might become a colorful desert, too)
written on the occasion of--well, yes--the heat but also a local town that declared a drought emergency today; what's ironic to me is that the town is set where a wide creek pours into a wide river (always strikes me odd when that happens)
disseasonability
an easy winter
brutal summer
heat
in exchange for
the snow
fair exchange?
there is romance
in the snow
yes
and peril, too
but do we forget
(speaking in January)
that
there is danger
in the high heat,
too
not to mention
polar ice shelves
sliding into
sea
exposing land
which is interesting
though
in fact
we are losing our cool
so to say
and for real
the Earth is heating
and we need
the heat
and shall we forget
we need the cold
as well
sorry
we’re not halfway
keep talking winter
in the northern world
at least
and maybe ask
down south
how the summer’s
doing
c l couch
photo by Liana S on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Close Call
x
Danger, Will
Heatstroke air today
Both hot and humid
You’d swear we were
Sitting, rocking, reclining
On a porch
In a Southern family drama
Spanning time,
Hope, and cynicism
Sipped by lemonade
x
Don’t stop me if you’ve heard this
But once I asked a Southerner
How Southerners
Endured all the close heat
There
I thought maybe home remedies
Or some adaptation over generations
Here’s what I was told:
Air-conditioning
Sigh
No saga
Only appliances
Or a central system
x
C L Couch
x
x
First-edition dust jacket cover of As I Lay Dying (1930) by the American author William Faulkner.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=91865318
x
Fahrenheit 151
It’s over a hundred degrees
In the Arctic
Down south, that gets a lethal warning
Don’t go out in this, especially if
One is old or young or has something of
A medical condition
This is the Arctic where
Santa dwells
With elves, all making toys
Inside a house and workshop underneath
The snow,
Where mastodon bones are found
Maybe with flesh and DNA once
Inside the permafrost
Science is excited, and
Science is concerned
About microbes
That were frozen
Newly released by melted ice
I know Siberia can be
Occasionally temperate
But now it’s over a hundred degrees
In towns
And I imagine the investment in
Air-conditioning has been sparse, over
The years
I hope they are okay
After the Antarctic
Falls
(guess what—its sheets of ice
are already breaking, sliding into
the ocean in ways
they’re not supposed to)
Maybe some more will say,
Hey, there might be a problem
While the seas are rising
Democracy is drowned
And we are facing
Final, savage years
C L Couch
What a 100-degree day in Siberia really means
The record-setting high is much more than a quick spike for the Russian Arctic, where months of extreme heat may have dangerous consequences.
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/2020/06/what-100-degree-day-siberia-means-climate-change/
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
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