(x = space)
x
x
A Word, Please
x
Dance
A word I hear
Inside the air
Of movement
And of possibilities
x
Let’s try to move together
Earth and sky
And us between
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash
. . . five pairs were dancing tango . . . sensual, savoring with every movement. . . . ordinary people . . .
x
So over three days there have been three poems for Valentine’s. A study of love, a tribute to my mother, and thoughts about how a couple might move together.
x
(x = space)
x
x
15 February
(1925 to 1983)
x
Today is Mom’s birthday
Happy Birthday, Mom
x
I trust
The birthdays have been
The happiest
Of days
Since you arrived
And for the forever
That you’ve been there
x
Do you have a place?
Is it your own
With neighbors
And community close by?
I imagine walls
Made of bright wood
And a few
Favorite things
And a door that opens
Into spring
x
It is a dream
It is a hope
It is a formless prayer
Against the real joy
Better than my guesses
Of eternity
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by daniela de gol on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Facets
x
1
x
What is love
But ether
And it’s action
We feel what we feel
We want to feel good
We have
Responsibilities
Sometimes some stoicism’s
Called for
Pink and red
Silliness, devotion
Both are good
And necessary
x
Love means doing things
Everyday things
And then there’s
Exigency
Something urgent happens
We respond
x
We argue
And we’re sorry
We’re afraid
There is a challenge
To have others
Believe in themselves
x
If there’s only selfishness
In you
Change you
x
And if you want all this
Have love
It is lasting
And delightful
It is solid
And it’s fluid
It changes us
Love changes
It’s supposed to
We have fun with it
We grow
And if it’s good love
It should last
Grow up with it
Grow old
x
2
x
Remember also
Let the circle widen
There are good people
Standing by
It is a lattice
A shiny, moving web
A honeycomb
The marble of the Earth
That turns
That displays wonder
With the movement
Of the atmosphere
x
Keep breathing
It is wonderful
Let love be oxygen
For muscles
That do work
That offer passion
That do play
That understand devotion
Pledge-keeping
Even without a pledge
In mind
x
Love is fair
There should be justice
In the house
In the yard
In the office
On the playground
With our friends
With strangers
Yes, be careful
Love needs time
And air
And food
Real food
And of the gods
And God
x
Devotion’s play
Love’s work
So many parts
Live them through
Live through them
Delight
Evolve
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Possessed Photography on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Valentine’s
(belongs to you)
x
Valentine got famous
For correspondence;
Other saints send messages
x
Valentine left words
Of love and encouragement
As other saints have done—as
You or I have done
x
Then red and pink took over
x
Red for hearts,
Pink for I don’t know
x
Lace got in there, too:
We covered up our furniture,
Covered our piano legs
With that
x
Well, why not?
We need the colors in the winter
And red means passion,
Loyalty as well
x
While pink is fragile
As are all relationships
In part
x
Happy day for strengthening
Like exercise,
Metal in devotion
Like the metal in the jewelry
For a sign we wear
x
Happy Valentine’s
With valentines
x
Don’t force it
Or deny it:
If deny it,
Maybe do so
With a saint’s
Prudent
Contemplative quiet
x
For the rest,
Give the cake
Share the cake
Eat the cake
Enjoy refined sugar
Or have raisins
x
Or above the silence
And beneath the noise
Go slowly—pleased to
Talk it through
On or by
The sidewalks of the world
x
C L Couch
x
x
now you have a day to plan—you’re welcome
x
By Lorie Shaull from Washington, United States – Happy Valentine’s Day!, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=56401542
x
(x = space)
x
x
Good Books
x
You know,
It is a good book
x
The pastor also quoted
From The Quran
Today;
Maybe I missed
The intent
(there was some talk about it, after),
But for me
It was a good
Refreshing moment
x
And I imagine there are good (refreshing) things
In The Upanishads
x
How about The Mishnah?
Theogony by Hesiod who
Believed
And
(yes, it’s cheek)
The House at Pooh Corner,
Which is not religious
But is pleasant
And spiritual
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Masjid Pogung Dalangan on Unsplash
x
x = space
x
x
prosaically yours
more so more likely than versically
x
i’m tired
second cup of coffee
tv for distraction
more senses involved
than music
i should pray
i don’t what to say
could god answer anyway
there’s omniscience
after all
x
my eyes are tired
computer screens don’t help
nor does the time
i couldn’t sleep
rose well
into remaining darkness
wrote for hours
tried to sleep
wrote some more
that would be now
x
so here is
honestly
and what shall happen
next
is up to me
but i must manage balance
between staying in
to raise awareness
or going out
not so far
to run
to drive
some errands
x
like kenny loggins at
pooh corner
there are things to do
that are exigent
prescriptions to retrieve
gasoline to get beforehand
x
you know
i don’t have an
electric car
though i grieve historically
the stanley steamer
while i’ve only
come across
two pumps for electricity
in my collection
of small towns
what is the
strategy
for everyone
only charge our cars
at home
x
there is trash to take out
as well
first or last
and more
you know
always more
x
it’s friday
i should take the weekend
to bear it somewhere
fine
and i want
to say however plainly that
i hope you’ll carry yours
to such a place
as well
x
i should say toward the conclusion
not parenthetically
that I mourn
i talked with my sister for
a while last night
we talked
about our loss
and everything that still needs doing
that she’s doing mostly
my part is to buoy
x
if i pull that off
i should be helpful
which
is an impulse
or an instinct
from which
except in what were
and still might be
extreme and selfish times
it seems
i will not be released
x
not to speak to heroes
for companionship but
as much to say
i come from dust
x
c l couch
x
x
if it’s not friday for you
or even daytime
fill in with your own day
of the week
the weekend comes
or has arrived
regardless
x
photo by félix prado on unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Toll
x
I started to write
Because it was twelve thousand
Now it’s more than twenty
There would be little left
Of my small town
Which is considering
The numbers only
Imagine people
I don’t want to
Imagine myself there
Would be easier
Because I would be doing something
And it would be awful
And my life would break
Like the earth
Beneath the nations
That might come back
Or we will fill it
Not with the dead
But with material
For building and for living
Apologies from government are fine
Maybe we could stop the war
Among the factions
And the other wars
In the region
To reassemble
Reknit the people
Not as Babel
Fallen
But as the New Jerusalem
A promise
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Jazmin Quaynor on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Ordinaryism
x
Well,
It’s less expensive
To take a table outside
A favorite place
Or to discover
Than to take a cruise
Or fly within
Something wide-bodied
Keeping the moving air
Of the fan
The air out of the nozzle
Going
x
Not that those things
Aren’t fine
They are
And we should like them
Should we have them
But if you have a friend at
Table anywhere
Maybe two friends
Maybe more
x
You are at
The high table in the great hall
Of monarchs
A gilded place
The café
Of your liking
Like the stories
And like Earth’s
And humankind’s
Storied luxuries
x
We have what we have
And let ambition call
And love each day
Find something
Change the quotidian,
If need be
Reach out
Get help
Maybe at that table
(try not
to apologize)
x
Or let the table simply be
An inexpensive place
And a gathering
Without agenda
Part of the joy
The easy joy
In having what the human world
Would say is not a game-show prize
But that you know
And your company
Is priceless
Because there is no price
Except for coffee
Maybe rolls or cake
Or whatever pleasure
The menu
And today
Afford
x
C L Couch
x
x
(I guess such a gathering might seem precious in the days of a pandemic, the reality and process, of learning how to wrap it in like SARS or H1N1 though of a worse disease—but I hope that one day easy meetings with our friends will happen once again; I’m sure the cafés hope so, too
yes, I know, we’re meeting now—I simply wish we’d work that out more safely)
x
Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Earth Is Not Round
x
Four thousand dead
In Turkey and in Syria
From earthquake
x
Do we understand
How many?
x
We could say
We could lost more in the Towers,
But do we understand
What that means
Save for being there?
x
And if there,
How far could we see?
How far would our eyes
And ears
And hands—our
Spirits allow?
x
The bodies piled here,
Now there:
Who understands?
And yet it happens,
All this happens—neither
Is done forever
Or for good
(that is a play on words)
x
We need to know we can
Step back—that
It is all right, the stepping back
x
As for disasters
We go in,
The brave go in,
Bags and boxes
Literal, awful
And sad treatments
That assuage
And do not heal
x
Still, many will be saved
And perhaps there is a plan
For the next time
To forestall the next time:
x
Real homes and towns,
Walls that bounce
And have a chance
To remain
And keep the mortal lives
Inside
x
I don’t have these perspectives,
Though I have come
To certain places
After:
Sometimes generations
Yet in need of fixing
x
Mostly, though,
The blood and gore
Have been my own
x
I do worse with yours
x
C L Couch
x
x
Turkey and Syria earthquake: race to find survivors as death toll passes 6,000 and hundreds of thousands seek shelter – latest
The Guardian via MSN, 11 minutes ago (12:24 EDT)
x
(I wrote this morning after sleeping with the news last night)
x
Photo by Parker Johnson on Unsplash
x
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