more
(for which Oliver might ask)
more love
more
peace
I’d trade my gold
my medals
pins
and keys for this
for these
a lesson of age
or
Ozymandias
c l couch
(“Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens)
photo by Brands&People on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
If Not Charity
x
There should be more:
God, will you have
More?
There is great need
Awful, tearing need
As if a maw
Like all the mouths we fear
Should swallow us
God,
Will you meet us there?
Charity begins
Where charity begins
We don’t interpret well
Who cares
Take up the toys
Gather in the food
Say something special
Better to be doing it
And saying it
What is giving
Don’t wait for philosophy
If you have a dollar
Or a handkerchief
You might be rich
You might be on the sidewalk
Where I called you
Says the Lord
Our God
Who is our God
And preaches mysteries
Though love is clear enough
Share it
Keep it well
Pearls planted well inside
The ocean of our need
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Gabrielle Mustapich on Unsplash
Emerald waves from above.
x
13 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
. . .
(from) Paul’s first letter to believers in Corinth
King James Version (and the tongues of people)
x
More
There’s something more
It’s here
Inside the pale blue
Between the yellow light
And the branch’s skin
There is green, too,
Dark in the shadow
We can make it human
I suppose we always do
But there is another planet here,
A world whose talk
Is in the leaves
Whose senses know the light
And every color
Every texture,
Each thing that moves so that
Another thing might live—
It’s all cooperation
Learn from this
Don’t make it human yet;
It’s intimate already
It’s conscious because energy
Has wisdom
And gravity a story
The tree is a tale that moves
And also waits
So much to tell
More so than mute artifice
We should know this
And as we don’t
So wait!
All things are here
Enough for life, because it’s life
A history if
We could pull the sunbeams from the
Earth to read
We can’t for now
So listen, please
With all concrete senses
Best that we can do—
Please, listen
To the story that could save us
Every day,
If we don’t destroy
The binding and
The pages
Let ink run as blood from entropy,
Our self-made ruin
Of whole things,
Run into empty land
And lifeless water
Reclaimed by
An angry universe
Having expected
So much more
With all that had been given
Every word in nature
No wonder why
The angel kept, outside
Of paradise,
A flaming sword
Pressed by what’s inside
Ignited by protection of what’s true,
True stories, more
Than what we wrote
And what we wrote that we forget
Still having a last chance to hear
To receive
If only by the gateway,
A last chance to learn
C L Couch
Photo by Erico Marcelino on Unsplash
Mis’ess Claus Testifies
(spelled out via T. Hardy et al)
Christmas got away from me
I still believe
You know who must be killing it?
The corrugated companies
It’s an expression, and I wonder
Please say you’re recycling
In some places, it is Boxing Day
In Sydney, that means kangaroos punching—
Kidding!
There will be boxes
There should have been enough
Yesterday
But receiving needs receiving
And in too many places
There was nothing
So as tradition and sense tells, give
More than that,
Give more
There are still too many dreams
That should have something
C L Couch
Pyramiden, Svalbard et Jan Mayen
Factory in the Arctic
clcouch123 
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