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Precipitous Evolution

(x = space)

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Precipitous Evolution

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We have atomic bombs

In silos, ready to launch

There is a pandemic

We’re trying to ignore

Despite the rise in cases

Second wave, extension of

The first

We’ve heated up the Earth

So that volcanos and

Windstorms, forest fires

Are all readier

Their unleashing is worse

Could nature ever be

Our friend again?

But we are consumed with

Human ratings on TV and in

Our other media:

They must exist, they must

Be good or something’s

Terribly wrong with us

Though there are better

Judges than celebrities

What shall we say,

We’re living on the edge?

Not of adventure

But of living

Plainly if at all

Yes, I know it’s preachy

But I want you tomorrow,

People and the Earth

Everything that lives and breathes

And maybe changes

Under a too-tolerant God

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C L Couch

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Photo by JD X on Unsplash

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1

Modern Times

Modern Times

 

We’re wearing down

The machine is tired of its gears

And certain teeth are broken

Threatening the sprockets

We’re not talking factories

They can belch forever,

So it seems

It’s our industry that’s on the line

The kind that makes relationships

With flesh and with metal

That makes our efforts viable

 

It takes fuel, cereal in the morning

Tea in the afternoon

Sympathy for sibling feelings

Openness for a surprise

Should evening come

With newness in the night

 

It isn’t entropy, just yet

We still have flesh

And boundaries

The universe isn’t done with us

It expands but is so far from

Dissolution

 

Find a reason, then

To keep it going,

The cosmos for a day

With our place inside

 

C L Couch

 

 

Modern Times is a 1936 American silent comedy film written and directed by Charlie Chaplin in which his iconic Little Tramp character struggles to survive in the modern, industrialized world.

(Wikipedia)

 

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

 

 

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The Sun’s Indigenous

The Sun’s Indigenous

 

A treat

The coffee

I don’t have to load it

In my buckboard

Like a settler come to town

On Saturday for supplies

Too easy to fantasize

My house on the prairie

Or my split-level

In the east

How much did others pay

For dreaming?

I don’t mean pioneers

Though for their dreaming

They gave much

I mean those who dreamed

Of earthen wisdom,

Already here for centuries

Imperfect

But here first

First people

 

In the world, we don’t respect

Indigenous save for study

(bless the anthropologists

in situ)

The land is there

Just needs some brutal scrubbing

Clear it out for destiny

That we own

 

I’m white

I don’t mind being white

I rarely have to

I rarely have to think of it,

Unless I want to

Call me a lover of dark skin

I am

I have no way to understand reparation

Except that it’s a worthy thought

At least to seek forgiveness

Knowing that each people

Have done each other

That is no excuse for us

Or anyone

To pick up the rope, the chain,

The sword

To take over for intrafamily rivalry

And sin of war that way

Theirs in the first,

Ours in the last

 

I think that colors merge into the sun

I think that I’m idealist

And most likely, oh, so naïve

But I’ll take it for my vision

Keeping in the daylight

Dreaming of at night

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Drop the Label Movement on Unsplash

Azukar Coffee, Phoenix, United States

The subject of this photo, Hannah, radiates authenticity, joy, and beauty in her jean jacket laced with various pins and buttons. This photo of Hannah was captured by Idara Ekpoh in south Phoenix, Arizona, at Azukar Coffee Shop.

 

3

The People

The People

 

Centrist and moderate

The silent majority

The melting pot

The inexorable movement of a people

Because for all attempts to stop us

At all borders and with barriers,

We move

We are the most

Inexorably living, anyway

Maybe rudely, maybe with elegance

Bearing style

Or dirt from head to toe from growing things

(or both)

We cannot be stopped

Nature is with us

 

Insanity might say,

We’ll stop you with a bullet

Though before it runs out of ammo

Another force will kill the guns

Horror, shame, or for despots

Lack of profit

 

There is a story of a mountain people

I mean people who are mountains

Who look down on the plains

To see ants fighting without earning food

Or materials for homes,

For they cannot make the trails

 

Only one set: for warfare or for building

The mountain people are bewildered

And are always powerful

And now must contemplate

Relearning the ants or, failing that,

Clearing off the plains (for people who are

mountains it would be easy)

Allowing other species with the skills and

With forbearance

To have the fertile earth

 

Someone is watching now

To measure up the borders

All of them

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Sierra Nevada, United States

One of the most beautiful destination in California are the Sierra Nevada Range both in the summer and winter.

 

4

Fire Out, Please

Fire Out, Please

 

Australia’s dying

How are the first people there?

The second people are in dire need

Those who survive the danger

Needing something of what

Was brought with them

And then called home

 

One prison colony is

Now another

No time for blame

This is a time for life

For rescue, healing, then rebuilding

New air is needed

Everywhere except the fire

That, God willing, must be bereft

Of oxygen to die

The irony of living

Losing all the green sources for

The birth of breath

For people

 

The animals who might reinhabit

Give birth again

A billion

Having been killed so far

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Alfred Kenneally on Unsplash

 

Australia bushfires: A billion animals will have been killed

MSN News· 23 hours ago

A billion animals will have died in Australia‘s devastating bushfires and those who make it through…

 

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Cat People

Cat People

 

I don’t know why we like

To change or stay the same

Is it up to us

As a campaign?—when

Burdened, yes, when

Abused of

Our better parts and

Aspirations

 

(Or maybe because we bug the

Hell out

Of those around

Us, and they’re right)

 

Otherwise, doesn’t the universe

Offer instinct-movement in

Gravity

And the attraction or, admittedly,

Repulsion of

Black holes and

Neutron stars?

 

And all the turning elements

That ask of us to

Dance if possible with joy,

Day by day,

(And anyway)

With all the nuclei?

 

Like felines who jump across

The yard or run the

House

 

Because they can

Because the gods of catliness

Say cats must—

And don’t they want to!

 

C L Couch

 

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psalm whatever, a song about parenthetic people

psalm whatever
a song about parenthetic people

parenthetically speaking, there
are too many people pushed aside
who live as virtual (meaning actual,
not electronic), veritable
slaves in body, looking forward to
nothing because there is no hope of
the freedom of
self-determination

this is not abstract—there are slaves

do not miss this

those of us who do not matter or
who might be enemies of
more powerful people

as slaves they will not matter
beyond their usefulness in
the buyer’s interest in labor

and after that cannot be realized
they will not matter ever
again so is the attitude
of the thief of stealing lives
and the thief who buys

there are others, too, not so
obviously sold but
captive all the same

if I asked you what all this meant
I think you’d have an answer
not because you’re criminal

but because you’re thoughtful
you know of slavery of the past
and of the parenthetic people
who subsist, persist today
and not so far away

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