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love

love we do

(x = space)

x

x

love we do

x

love needs air

it needs oxygen

it needs to breathe

not love in space, perhaps

but love here

on Earth

where nature

loves the animals

where people might

love each other

x

the one

the two

the many

who is

who are

the oxygen

better than the atmosphere

(though we need

the molecules),

giving air through

the heart

the brain

the stomach

even the liver and the kidneys

x

giving life

and taking life

but less than giving

x

c l couch

x

x

“Love Me Do,” Lennon-McCartney

x

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Birdworld Kuranda, Rob Veivers Drive, Kuranda QLD, Australia

x

Walking in Beauty, Like the Night

(x = space)

x

x

Walking in Beauty, Like the Night

x

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

—Byron

x

The only place I live

Ironically

Is in the clock

(absurdly called the grandfather),

A prisoner

Of time

And time

x

There’s a dark space

Behind the weights,

Behind an ornate board

In fact, taller than I

x

I listen to the clock

x

I hear its beat,

Its announcements

Count the hours along

x

I got good at guessing

When it’s dark

Outside,

The dark of night and mortal people

x

So I might slide

As if it were amusement

Into the room night,

Of shapes and shadows,

Followed by another room

And then another

x

Accommodations for

Ghosts among the living

In a place

Where both reside,

Divided places aren’t worked out

x

When light touches me, I burn

And if it weren’t an issue

For the gossamer of tissue,

I would burn for shame

x

Life was love

Attended

x

I thought I’d be released,

But immorality

So far has judged me

Here

x

Where I must hide

In filminess

And flimsiness

Inside the dark

Of this dark place

By day

x

C L Couch

x

x

This work is in response to a prompt for horror writing from Katie Metcalf who writes supernally about the dark and winter and folklore and endurance.  Here is the link for you to try at your own magickal delight:

https://wyrdwordsandeffigies.wordpress.com/2021/01/30/writing-in-the-dark-horror-writing-prompts/

x

Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

Terrell, TX, USA

An old blue creepy haunted house | Please check out my blog at: matthewtrader.com/unsplash

x

Midnight Sun

(x = space)

x

x

Midnight Sun

x

I can’t help but imagine

A quiet and dark place

x

Maybe a church

Maybe a campsite

Maybe in the desert

Maybe a quiet place at home

x

It is late

There is candlelight

And whoever’s there

And there are people there

Is praying

x

They are praying for the world

As if it were outside

And in greater peril

Than experience has known

In ages

x

Great hunger lurks

And plans

x

But here there is silent love

Propelling urgent works

x

Peace

And intercession

Then knowing what to do

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Emily Hon on Unsplash

Yellowknife, Canada

Aurora shine the whole night.

x

The Magician’s Children

(x = space)

x

x

The Magician’s Children

(Christmas 2020)

x

It’s a magic time

The animals will talk at midnight

x

Light of many colors

Will shine inside and outside

Of hours

And tall buildings in the city

x

People who don’t believe

Will be quiet for a while

Almost in honor of the child

x

Christmas might be

A chore for them,

But they take the quiet anyway,

Until the noises of the morning

In the household begin

x

And there are those who will be quiet

Because they are the only ones,

Each one in a home of sorts

To bring in the day

On one’s own

x

Each one has a job

To send out the peace

Just beyond, until the next one

Take it,

Send it out in thought or feeling

Or a prayer

x

Others will be so busy

But the lonely could do this

x

Create a spirit-band across the world

Through many places,

Many nations,

Many destinations

That can’t be reached yet

x

Someday, perhaps

When we have enough health,

Enough determination,

Enough interest in the risk

x

Merry Christmas to each one

And from each to everyone

Live in peace for a day

And remember that a day

Can be an age

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Daniil Silantev on Unsplash

Ozero Turgoyak, Челябинская область, Россия

Ice on the Lake Turgoyak

x

Love of Story

Love of Story

x

Mostly, we read stories

Now

To children at the end of day

Or sometimes in

A social situation when

The elements

Are undeclared and

Might surprise us, if we knew

x

There are official

Storytellers, having trained

Or trained themselves,

Maybe belonging to

A kind of guild

x

Mostly, the storytelling

Voice is left to books

Without our

Participation except

When reading to ourselves or

At the end of day

Or in the backyard

With our friends,

While some meat

Is cooking on the grill

x

Our ancient texts

Have voices, but we do not think

Of them (or them)

So much;

Their lessons are alive,

Sometimes their prayers—but

That there are

People talking to their people

Then and to us now

Is not so much a matter,

As it might have been

Outside the book

x

Is this a problem?

Well, it might be:

We might benefit from allowing for

Human presence in our

Stories—yes, our prayers—through

The ages,

Divine intrusions (or,

yes, divine inspirations)

Notwithstanding

x

But these are our stories, too,

If only by intent of audience

(which is to say

they are for you, they are

for us),

Which is to say we read them, have

Them read to us:

We engage,

We respond,

We learn

Sometimes we are changed

And at any age,

In any age,

Are grown

x

So keep the stories living,

Let’s tell our own

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Melanie Lim on Unsplash

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur, Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

x

Love Rules

(x = space)

x

x

Love Rules

x

And what does love say

But

To wait as in

Have patience, to wait

As in readiness to serve

Then serving

Love as a good question

And an impulse,

Love of everything

Except that which is evil,

Which destroys

As in the field

Or in freedom

x

Love today, love now

It is the height,

The depth, the middle way

We can come back to it,

Should we need to

Should we lose our way, now

And then

x

I mean self-love,

Certainly, but love of others,

Too

Love of partners, love of

Family, of friends

Love of strangers—there’s a

Greek and Christian

Story

About that, while

I imagine everywhere

There is a story about

Entertaining strangers

Who are angels,

Unawares

x

So be aware and ready,

And

Love in the mean time

Not because heaven

Says so,

Though it does,

But because it’s the best

Humanity as well—the

Kind we know, even to know

It from

Pushing it down

Get help, get therapy

Read and write it

x

For love must be way:

Easy, difficult, wounding

And then healing

Praying

And, yes, planning

Understanding on the inside

To do it on the outside—

Realized in all dimensions

Not weak but weak,

Protected,

Strong on its own

Ready for each day

When there will be joy

Within the labor

x

I’ll stop on Poe’s

Favorite sound (made by o-r),

Though here

It’s but a schwa:

Love is small

Love is large

Its power suffuses all

There is none greater

None smaller

Children can manage

So must we all

x

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Magdalena Smolnicka on Unsplash

x

Attending

Attending

 

God speaks

Through storm

And through the rising flower

Listen

For the goodness

And, if it has to be, chastisement

Before all love returns or

So it seems

From a place it never left

The human will and mind and spirit

Love of all

Excelling loves

Perfection so near

In moving water and the fire that for now

Is contained

Inside dissolution

Ruin or old age

Waiting for will to turn so that

The paradox

The ears to hear will hear

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Ganapathy Kumar on Unsplash

Comet NEOWISE seen from Rio Rancho in New Mexico, USA.

 

The Funeral of George Floyd

The Funeral of George Floyd

 

I knew a man

Named Jerry who

After a funeral said,

I look at it this way

He’s gone

And I’m still here

His wife tried to shoosh

Him, though I suppose

There was truth in

What he said,

If not the saying of it

 

He’s gone

And we’re still here

Prayers to heaven might

Release him into

Further bliss, so some

Doctrines say

We can do that here for him

 

But all the rest

Is us for us

To take part in a life after

The fact, the death

Of all we could have known

We’ll acknowledge

Even celebrate

Laugh a little

Wish we could laugh a lot

We’re no good at this

 

There is an expression

To choke the life out of it

A program

Or a promise or a pledge

To take it literally

Upon a person

Outside of stagey melodrama

A Darth-Vader move

Is never having been sublime

But move the

Ridiculous to an absurdity

Of evil

 

Might we be

Angry at a funeral?

I think we might

But be sad first

Make crying space

For tears and any keening

Let him go

And never let him go

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by William Rouse on Unsplash

 

Love Notes

Love Notes

(subjects and verbs)

 

What does love say?

It speaks

(not like our first voice in the morning,

though it can be funny)

Sometimes I can’t hear it

Sometimes I don’t want to

 

It speaks through rain,

When there’s sun

It speaks through weather’s extremes

If only to say,

What have you done to me?

 

We’re not stupid

We could hear love, if we wanted to

I could hear love

 

And on a day when it’s convenient,

I guess I do

Though sometimes love has

To hit me on my abstract head,

I am so slow about it

 

I speak, and does it hear?

It speaks, and do I listen?

The world isn’t helping

 

The world is a hateful place just now

Some people try to make it so,

Thinking profit and elections come from this

These are frightened people

One word from you,

And they’d feel better

 

But then there’s listening

Not to mention will

Things that are required of us

The fences we take down

The walls that aren’t protecting anything

 

But I can answer for myself

And hope the best

I’ll try to get it right

Finding what has feathers

In the world

Calming down my own noise

So your astounding silence

When it’s silent

Might speak a library of wisdom

And I might hear the words

Of those who know them for the living

 

And in a hateful world,

You are always something more

You were not invented yesterday

I think I might have heard you in creation

Not to mention procreation

When you’re there, too

 

And your siblings,

Action and accountability,

They often have their say as well

Outshouting our own Herods

In the last

 

Yes, there is hate

I’m already tired of it

You are better

There is anger

You are clearer

There is scorn

You are stronger

There is violence

You are the answer

There is fear

You quiet needless (or the needful) storms

Nothing is stronger on this world or any other

(nothing we’ll take to space is better)

Though many try perversion,

You are a proper peace that will not break

 

Give me something, please

When I ask it

I’ve always been too slow in hearing you

So much for me to understand

 

You’re pervasive

Sometimes we’re tricky

But there is authentication—

When it’s good and true, it’s you

That should be enough

 

There can be contraindications,

Yet we can be smart

Serpents and doves

They say God is you,

But you are not God

A problem with a linking verb

Love can be turned

We could say, then it’s not love

Though cleverness unsuits you

 

It’s simply this

There’s love

And we can have it

Setting down a certain, sadder source of fire

Stepping away from broken glass

Turning down the volume

So there’s more than our voice, declaiming

 

Listen

Pay attention

This is not school, and there won’t be a grade

But only life

Life better off when we invite you

You may settle in

 

(Love hears scoffing)

You think this is dull?

You think love doesn’t excite you?

Then you’ve been getting sex all wrong

And jogging

Working

Cleaning up

Pretty much anything worth doing

You do this life without me

Well, I guess you already know

 

Try something that’s a real challenge

Deceit is too easy

The most difficult is love,

Then it’s easy

(there is a book about it, more than one

good examples there and outside, too

you might know them by name)

You want to use all of you,

You want reward?

I’ll take you on

Yes, you

You’ll find no greater challenge

Or, frankly,

A sweeter and more thorough ever after

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Setyaki Irham on Unsplash

Bandar Lampung, Kota Bandar Lampung, Lampung, Indonesia

 

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