chimes
on its way to midnight
a new day
in which we don’t have to re-make everything
or anything
though there is a spirit of creation to
consider
maybe some things need refreshed
or added to with
zest
once we wake up
of course
c l couch
photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Illusion or Reality
x
Do we know illusion
The things out of the corners
Of our eyes
I see my cat
From time to time
x
But an actual illusion
Actual
Something we sense
That isn’t there
It might shape
For our senses
But really
Is a thinking
And misthinking
Of our minds
And hearts
Misallied
In the moment
Or maybe all the time
x
Have we seen some things
That are not there
How does this match
With illusions
In our attitudes
Beliefs
And minds toward things
x
The illusion is for fun
Mismanaging our thoughts
Is something else
x
And now reality
Which is something
As it is
Material
No argument
About it
x
The rock is real
Our eyesight
When it’s measured
The Earth is real
When we stand upon it
x
Yet there’s the question
Real or illusive
Do we have the handle
Are we confident
With our machines
Even machine
Logic
x
In a relativistic age
It’s hard
Sometimes
To tell
Though it’s our invention
For an age
To twist ourselves
Maybe by people
Who make money from it
Or harbor an illusion
(hah)
For power
An abstract
Made of will
Always another
Added to our own
x
We could be superheroes
Cape or helmet
But then
That is illusion
For
Yes
Our entertainment
Though there is inspiration
Too
In these images
And faultless actions
x
Hmm
A reason for illusion
To prop up
Even to help direct
Reality
Remove the versus
Then
Consider
Allied with
Even for fuller comprehension
Even for fuller life
x
In the air
Through the barriers
Who is that
It’s us
x
x
something for Friday
something pre-Hallowe’en
for when you are
we are
midnight persons
x
and now
something about midnight
x
x
Late at Night, You Know
x
Midnight
It isn’t really midnight
Three o’clock is midnight
Which might be why
He had bad things happen
At 3:15
x
Midnight for stories
Nonetheless
And a witching hour
Whose story we might not
Really know
What were the practices
Done in an hour
If that
Or more
Or longer
x
Midnight and shadows
Where are the shadows
In the night
Well
With the moonlight
Or our
Artificial arrangements
Against total darkness
‘til the dawn
x
So there are shadows
There are shapes as well
Of new dimensions
Taller
Without features
For a face
x
Except we know that one is there
Something devilish
Autonomic
Human
Is there
And we shall know too late
If there’s identity
After the action
Or is stands there
A small tower
Over us
‘Til we have the fortitude
To move away
x
Shall there be ghosts
And shall there be story
For us to set down
Until dawn
Or share from what we know
And what we don’t
For comfort
Or for titillation
Until dawn
x
We should remain
Keep our souls inside
It might be just a story
Or a real thing
Inside
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Nika Benedictova on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
See the Chill We Feel Outside in Fall
x
I was out past midnight
When I left the store
I saw my breath in vapor
A little cloud
The first time in the season
x
Our fall has been too warm
But in the night
Beneath the parking spots
Outside the entryway
To Rutter’s
There was something
x
Evidence of exhalation
I am breathing
So are you
Breathing through
The midnight hour
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Tanya Pro on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Ex-Temporaneous
x
It’s a dark day
Not enough for a
Ritual outside
And there’s rain
The sun tries
To come through
In patches
Dark hours nonetheless
x
That might be spent
At midnight
In the loft,
A vigil
And an offering
Prayer life in the dark
Ages behind that
x
Maybe a candle
Of the kind
That does not curse the darkness
But slices through it
If in, well, a fuzzy way
Batteries included
Diffuse Light and shadow
Diffuse
With unscripted words
Everything
Partnering
For the message
For the words
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Zoran Kokanovic on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
After Evening Service
x
We could keep vigil
On toward midnight
When the new day is called
x
A horn might be too much
But inside the church
The organ might be released
To greet the day
Subdued for lateness of the hour
Wanting to be good neighbors
Give our hearts some quiet room
As well
x
I guess “midnight vigil” sounds
A quiet thing
To us
I’m sure in other lands
It does not go that way
There are noisy fanfares
Calls as announcement
Calls to prayer
Calls to say
(to play)
Even to shout
x
This is a new day
Of the Lord
And the Lord’s creations!
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Adrian Dascal on Unsplash
Washed Away Night
Midnight in Saint George, Romania
x
(x = space)
x
x
Evening Hours
x
Tonight, somewhere
Vespers will be sung
x
Then maybe at midnight,
Those keeping vigil
In a circle
In a loft
Will utter prayers at midnight
For the sake of the new day
x
That this midnight
Will mean Monday
Though it could be
Any day,
Any set of twenty-four
Dedicated hours
x
All our sundials
All our watches
All our singing
As God wills
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash
x
Witchening Hour
When it’s the midnight hour
On Hallowe’en
Nothing, it’s simply the start of
Another hour
I want witches to appear
And magic manifest
Strange lights and an open doorway
Never there before
An hour for the ghosts to dance
While all of us in costume now
Unmask
The thinness torn
Between two worlds
Maybe mortal folk can
Sashay with the eldritch
The thing is that
It might not be terrifying
Simply extraordinary
Occult as in unknown alone
Conjuring an honest gathering
For all of us
To bear an hour
C L Couch
Image by joseph_Berardi from Pixabay
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