a few poems you know for Monday
scribbling
I guess
a scribble has a word
or
some words to distinguish from
a doodle
though doodle
I imagine could have
words
as well
say
the names of crushes by a child
an adolescent
since
we don’t have crushes
when we’re older
do
we
and we do
which might cause the child
the adolescent
to
cringe
that folk with wrinkles could let love
inside the creases
the war asleep
I slept poorly
which
is the syle anymore
and
I dn’t know what’s happened
in the mean time
as in
the wars
the ones we know
the ones we guess at
with
the ones we miss entirely
for all the destruction
caused
nonetheless
the war between people
maybe
men and women
as
Thurber has penned
or
inside oneself to start the war
or stop
then
these might be
all
the Monday wars
so that
I’ll
learn the real news
later on
a friendly wish is most of all
during or after
and so
it’s Monday
with all the lack of expectation
come
with Monday
and
I hope more than this
much more
that this has been and is
a really
good
day for you
since
you need it
after all
for all you’re going through
that
takes its toll of energy and might go so far
to dull the brightness of
the spirit
or things are not that bad
but
you tire anyway
and need
recharging
which
is pretty normal
or you’re well already
and
a wish is
simply added to the larger quantity
of excellence
so
don’t let me talk you into anything
but have the doo
day
soon or now
or keep it going
c l couch
photo by Dmytro Koplyk on Unsplash
A pileated woodpecker pauses mid-motion, head tilted as if listening for movement beneath the bark.
who tells the story, then?—perhaps a single nature or the other
getting up
how soon do we become aware of things
and how
and why
the beauty of the day
silence upon waking
stretching on
our own
or because we’ve seen others do it
rise
with enough sense to rise
the wildness of dreams
subside
settle into
enough transition
to
realize we’re here
and assemble where is here
and what
should we be
doing
now
into consciousness
and the world might lead us first
into it
traffic noise
anxiety from what rooted
before sleep
maybe a long before
tasks
to accomplish
subjects for counselors
whatever
might be going through
when all aspects and talents need take over
one part by another
in groups or altogether
we came to life
the mystery
as
well as the amazement
into today
and the hours as we unfold them
into
all the moments we might
try
to plan and
what shall happen
anyway
c l couch
more existential than I meant—it was more simply a pretty day at first, now grayed over
photo by Ashlee Marie on Unsplash
“Heavenly Blue” morning glory
Oxdrift, Kenora, Unorganized, Canada
masks of course that smile
(Monday after goodness from sabbath times is done)
I’m tired
tired of playing the game
goes
the satiric song
but tired
really
don’t you know and
maybe you could share
from
everything exhausting
which sometimes is the blur
and not much more
and
sometimes is the imposition of
the expectation
that busyness must reign
the real
virtue
and by image
don’t you know
we have
so many things to do
which
is why
there is no real time for you
and
don’t worry
we are teaching children
if not how
but by the show to live
frantic
and frenetic
in the way
for generations
c l couch
“I’m Tired” sung by Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles
Week
God
We would love you
But it’s Monday
And it’s
Hard
Enough to wake and then
Wake others
Wash
Dress
And breakfast
Leave for work or school
And then do well enough to
Have earned enough
For food
And
Bills and such
Plus maybe earned
A sense of
(enough)
Satisfaction from
The day
And there’s God
Well
Maybe
On Tuesday
C L Couch
Photo by Lerone Pieters on Unsplash
Manic Monday
(and don’t panic)
God sang
The song into creation
The lion did as much
And our holy words
In works
Imply
We are created
We are that song
Or its interpretation
In darkness
And in light
And the bestowal
Of a garden
With the first object lesson
For the teachers
That the garden
Stands
For something we
No longer have
While we must work
In labor
And in labor
For
What we got
Each era is a lesson
We could say
And maybe they progress
The human ages
Which is why
We say
They’re ages
(we get older)
We grow
Some
We adapt
Physically
Some
Though not as much
As one might think
For as long as we’ve
Been here
And this might not be
So much by us
As by
The touch of God
God knowing
We’ll need adaptive parts
As we go on
(grow on)
What do I know
It’s Monday
And I’m feeling existential
With the blues on electric pages
Making less sense
To me
(than could it be
our music style)
Than paper
With its white
And off-white
Receiving of
Our pen strokes
Painting
With black ink
C L Couch
[note to me and now to us
so what’s this poem about?—it’s about thinking and writing, yes, really about both]
I am having trouble with the blue lights on computers. Or the part of the lights that are blue. Or maybe feeling blue. I think it’s both.
The result is that I’m even more recalcitrant in using this thing. This vital thing. I’ve had to use it for a while then rest my eyes. Rest my eyes upon the rest of the world.
So if I’m worse about responding than is typical (and typically it can be pretty bad), then I’m sorry. But as the emperor said quite uselessly, there it is.
--Christopher
Photo by Marija Zaric on Unsplash
Nous existons. Vraiment.
(x = space)
x
x
Panic of 1819
(and probably in ancient Rome and every Friday since)
x
I don’t have it yet
It’s Friday
I don’t have it
x
In a suburban way,
I want
To have earned the weekend
x
Bad night last night
Today’s not much better
Except I’m awake
If duly
And can
More practically
Resort
To caffeine, should I wish
x
But there is
Something better
I am sure
Something to find my spirit
In the rut
If not a hole
And pull me through
x
It’s feelings
It’s truncated thoughts
And more
A weight of sin
Perhaps
Though don’t we bear that
Every day?
x
Well,
Design
And draft away
And with a shape
Construct
A frame
Add more materials
For texture
And color as that matters much
On Earth
x
And get it done
For presentation
Monday
By five
Or six
Or seven
Then find our friends
Beside what we call
Colloquially
The watering hole
That other creatures need
The literal
More direly
x
But let’s go in
And break
Exhale
Find solace
Even in this world
In trust
x
Or
You know
We could go home
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Daniel Gregoire on Unsplash
x
curated in “Friday clouds”; looking like mountains—Friday mountains?—with the moon an evening invitation
x
(x = space)
x
x
Empirical
(about Judas)
x
1
x
And what does it mean
Thirty pieces?
Not forty
Or twelve
A different sort of bargain
And a bargaining
For life
x
If he was a zealot
Then perhaps
The money didn’t matter
He wanted him to act
To wreck the Romans
Maybe the Sanhedrin, too
And bring
The final age
Crashing into the world
Let Solomon return
And David
Deborah
And Gideon
A greater king than these
Embodiments
A greater prophet
x
And let Messiah rule
Certainly
It’s him
x
Or else
The money was just money
And nothing just
About it
A small fortune
For the cause
Or for himself
Catharsis
And investment
Because we’d had enough
Of this kind
Of leadership
Through love
And loving invitation
Harsh words
The cleansing of the temple
x
Not nearly enough
For the emperor
Of a new age
And all of us
Consuls, advisors
x
Take the money
Recompense
Look for a moment
To secure
What happens next
x
According to our will
According to my will
x
2
x
And was he put down?
What made him act this way?
Hurt?
Envy?
Unbelief?
Or maybe
He was the sharpest of them all
And knew the money was a catalyst
That at the moment
When we’re followers
And friends
He’d change everything
The guards of the Sanhedrin
The Roman soldiers
The region
The empire at last
And set a new one
That the prophets saw
But wouldn’t time
So we have to do it
Make the time
Make it when we say
Make it now
x
Now everything will change
Now finally we’ll have
What we want
Power
And justice
The way we want
x
Revolution
Recompense
We’ve only been fooling ourselves
Or waiting for a start
x
Well, here it is
We’re calling it
I’m calling it
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Milad Fakurian on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
monday protest
x
get up
listen to the noise
and go
and this is how it starts
x
a day
in the modern world
x
no,
thank you
iI’ll stay here
in the drab place
and time
x
of dark and cold
of sleep
and safety
well
x
i won’t grow up
not i
x
if you must leave
i’ll stay
x
c l couch
x
photo by eduardo mallmann on unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Fortune Telling
x
Do people really
Run away
To join the circus?
Did they?
What did they do?
Pull on tent ropes?
Feel elephants
Or other animals?
Sweep and sweep
While learning
A circus trade?
Trapeze?
Clowning?
Firing a cannon or
Getting shot out of
One?
It’s Monday
And in my culture
This is the kind of thought
That people have
On Monday
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Alex Gagareen on Unsplash
x
clcouch123 
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