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two offerings, second poem for Hallowe’en

(x = space)

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two offerings, second poem for Hallowe’en

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Amnesiacal

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It’s funny

How willing

I am

To start a new day

As if in part

I’m starting over

And I take the day well

The dawning

The rising

Making coffee

With whatever

Or nothing else

(cold water)

And the world comes in

In not so welcome ways

And I am here

Again

Struggling

With everything

Appreciating

Too

Some better things

And will the day progress

Or step back

Will the pains prevail

Or hope

I’ll be ahead somehow

By evening

x

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(Not Unlike) The War of the Worlds

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for Hallowe’en

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I don’t know

Have a pleasant day

And night

If in costume

Moving through the chilly air

Or swiping

The candy from the bowl

While warm inside

x

And if you don’t play

Don’t worry

You don’t have to

By conviction

Or convenience

There is no requirement

Keep the porch light

Off

x

And as for Devil’s Night

Or Mischief Night

That’s why the costumes

And the candy

Were invented

In this culture

Maybe yours

While the mischief

And the devil

They are petty crimes

With which

You should not have to deal

x

Enjoy the day

And night

By watching scary movies

Not too gross

And with a story

That might interest

x

Have some fun

If you will

Within the borders

Of what’s fun

Even

Many children know

That the childish fear

Today

Tonight

Is fun

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jarrod Reed on Unsplash

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Poetry and Senses (3 poems)

(x = space)

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Poetry and Senses (3 poems)

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Upstart Clay

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God will help us through

By being quiet

Leaving all the noise to us

Except the wind

Maybe the water that descends

To strike the surface

Maybe on the ancient

Mountaintop

That moans

Or the young one that must explode

Or pushing geysers through

The scalding

Earth

x

So there

God might be noisy

After all

To take a part in all this

And remind us

Of the presence

And natural participation

Of the maker

And the making

Which is us

Fashioning our noise

Into making something

Too

x

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The Color Wheel

x

There is yellow

There is red

Then blue

There are the colors

In between

Orange

Purple

Green

And there we are

x

No white

Or pink carnation

For a crayon

No black to see

Though depending on perspective

Black might be suffuse

x

We love our color wheel

Couldn’t get along

To see

Without it

And the colors might turn concepts

To explain

x

To touch sometimes

Though there is no distinction

Doing that

To smell the color

Which is to smell the paint

Nothing to hear

Unless the wheel

Be turning

And there is humming from an engine

Or a supplicating gear

x

Imagine Earth the wheel

Us the fashioners

How are we doing

Are we colorful

Do we six colors

Bordered

Unattended

Or do we mix and blend

And have a globe

Outstanding

Then when turning

Make a noise

Send a message

To the others

Here we are

Introduce us to yourselves

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Wheels within Wheels

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Wheels within wheels

That had been said

As it’s been invented

With clay

With metal

In the mind

Over centuries

x

As a metaphor

Plots within plots

Every smaller

Going out

Ever larger

So that families

And nations

Are affected

Even over thrown

Reinvented

From parts left over

Rounded

And toothed

To have new rhythms

And redesigned

Noise

x

Wheels that press

Or parts caught

Inside gears

Or there’s so much pressure

So much lack of space

That something crushes

Unless so difficult itself

Breaks the gear

Breaks the wheel

x

And someone

Victor

I suppose

Must rework everything

So that we’re round again

And might make music

This time

As we turn

Through space

And time

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C L Couch

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Photo by Matt Seymour on Unsplash

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Illusion or Reality; Late at Night, You Know

(x = space)

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Illusion or Reality

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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

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something for Friday

something pre-Hallowe’en

for when you are

we are

midnight persons

x

and now

something about midnight

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Late at Night, You Know

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Midnight

It isn’t really midnight

Three o’clock is midnight

Which might be why

He had bad things happen

At 3:15

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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

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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

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C L Couch

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Photo by Nika Benedictova on Unsplash

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2 poems—a dragon and the presence of the Lord

(x = space)

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2 poems—a dragon and the presence of the Lord

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A Dragon Calls

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Sigh

A dragon calls

With a harness

For a human

And a land

To fly me to

Or bring me back

As I might choose

x

Thank you

Dragon

I’m sorry if I can’t

Pronounce your name

Though I think it time

To say yes

And fly away

x

A wizard might arrive

With a great horse

On the porch

Though that is the final story

For another day

x

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In the Presence of the Lord

x

I’m thinking spiritual

The presence is

Well

Everywhere

I’d like to think

Imbued in everything

x

But after making

And our due to credit

The rock does not have you in it

Though the storm

However much we feel

The preternatural push

x

I might find you

In the molecule

Or on the comet

Inside Leviathan

Or in the upholstery

Of the seat

Next to mine

On the plane

x

But that’s because

You are in my own

And everyone’s

You make it

And your own it

And you lend it

x

And inside the nucleus

You are there

In each one

You are there

Not a pantheistic impulse

But to say here’s love

In each particle

Sub-particle

Don’t miss it

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C L Couch

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Photo by Laith Abushaar on Unsplash

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something small series

(x = space)

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something small series

(three parts, that is, three poems)

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For What We Are About to Receive

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Thank you

God

For what is small

For what is easy

To see

To hear

To guess a touch

A taste

And what is left

A smell

In likelihood

Or gentle appreciation

x

Flower

Bird

Child

Not to touch

But to leave alone

Unless the touch be necessary

Or requested

Of the thing

Not my agenda

Or the world’s

x

Leave the flowers grow

And the birds

And the children

Provide

Teach

Enhance

The opportunities

Hold them

When our own

Release them

To their own

Be thankful for the borrowing

Even beholding

As a work

Of yours

In a museum

Without walls

With working space

And fields for play

The sunshine and the wind

To enhance

The experience

All experience

That’s human

Sanctioned by divine

In the making

And the giving

Thank you

x

x

The Open Gift

x

Thank God for something small

Seemingly

Seemingly

Easy to love

As if we had received a gift

For our delight

The flower

Or the bird

Or a child

Given in labor

Pain

And innocence

Returning both perhaps

Charged to our keeping

But here is the gift

A moment for the beauty

And the truth

In our beholding

In what is revealed

From the force

Behind all forces

The presence

We may guess at

And not know

For sure

Thought we know

This moment with

The flower

Bird

Or child

x

They are not avatars

They are their own

They are not agendas

Though they are

Naïve messages

Of innocence

x

Realistic purity

On Earth

x

(part 2 of something small a series)

x

x

The Final Solution

x

And now

Praise God

For something small

With song

In appreciation

To adore

Creator

In creation

x

For all there is

And isn’t

And should be

(the Quixotic dream)

x

Take in the leave

Take in the wind

Take in a stranger

Passing by

In New York City

Millions

Not to see again

x

Until our sight

Be perfect

And unbidden

Sighting love

In focus

Blissfully

Agenda-free

Sinless

Indiscriminate

x

Find something small

To love it

Even a molecule

Considered

The illustration

From a textbook

Or a website

x

Thanks God for protons

And electrons

Neutrons

That have meaning

Though they seem

Without an interest

Of their own

x

But they are here

And all the rest

To bind

In gravity

Of love

And willingness

For unity

And one’s own identity

Everything shared

Nothing lost

x

Praise God

For something small

That’s you

And me

When you

Love of self

And the other

We delightfully have both

And all the time

One by one

Small part by small part

A miniature greatness

That is set

And to combine

To form out of apocrypha

Or apocalypse

The real thing

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We’ll be there

Won’t we

x

(part 3 and probably enough of the something small series)

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C L Couch

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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2 poems

(x = space)

x

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2 poems

x

x

at the h. f. clinic

x

to the doctor’s well

a doctor type at

the clinic where my

heart failure’s diagnosed

and worked on

blood pressure’s up due

to medication or

some other cause

there’s all the weight from

fluid that is uncomfortable

to feel but since it tends

to kill people by

some kind of drowning I

guess then I should be

grateful and you

know I am

x

x

tawny punks

x

today is

someone’s day

or something’s

thanks to

greeting cards

or causes that simply

want a day

and get authority

to say okay

x

pizza day

beagle day

greeting card day

with greeting cards

for greeting cards

a day for me

is groundhog day

because there

are no cards

so you can cross

out christmas

or new year’s

or presaged a dismal

valentine’s

and write greetings

from

Punxsutawney

over that

and so practice

spelling

Punxsutawney

x

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Ralph Katieb on Unsplash

Groundhog didn’t like the late April snow (she was in the middle of nest building when it hit).

[photographer’s caption]

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Oracle

(x = space)

x

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Oracle

x

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Pent-Up

x

I wish the chemicals

Flowed more freely

Is it that they pass through

Glands

And mine rest in the body

Without balance

x

I was calm

And then adrenaline released

Caused me to jump

Around

You know

Inside

x

And now I contemplate my day

And its appointments

And could do without

The set-to

Consideration the expectations

Guessing really

Going on

Inside

x

x

Better Living

x

I never experimented

Never toked

Never smoked a cigarette

Never tried

What came within

The colored patches

x

Now a grown-up

I get pills

I know the younger

Get them

Too

And apologize

x

Prognosis

And prescriptions

It is the way

Buter’s way for our flesh

With what imposes

From the testament

About

Three-score and seven

x

x

That’s All

x

But

Lord

There are all the

Hundreds of years

Of patriarchs

Of Eve

Of Sarah

The subsumption of

Enoch

Elijah

x

Too many dying young

Through

Murder

Flood

And war

And then

The many who exceed

The formula

Citing classic wisdom

x

How long shall you go

(that’s you)

Or I

Our pets

Our people

Or our nations

Chronology

x

We might play with time

In elevated ways

Einstein

Velocity

The vehicles to get there

And such

x

Slows down things

Perhaps

While we are fast

And yet the direction’s

Always forward

Because that’s how the story plays

And toward which

The ending rests

And waits

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Aleksandr Barsukov on Unsplash

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MS. Found in an Electric Bottle

(x = space)

x

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MS. Found in an Electric Bottle

x

How do I keep

These?

x

Mostly, they’re electrons now,

Some of these a day

Over some years

Now

x

Shall I print them all,

Keep them like spells

Inside my crystal cave?

x

Well,

Maybe

Maybe I should

x

I can select from there

With those

To hope for publication

Or another egress

Out to you

To share

x

My part in the circle

And the stars

And the spells

x

We share our pages

With the magic words

That say

I’m here

With everyone

x

Read us;

Hear us

x

C L Couch

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“MS. Found in a Bottle,” a short story by Edgar Allan Poe

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Photo by Douglas Bagg on Unsplash

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“the devil,” “elements” (2 poems)

(x = space)

x

x

the devil

(you say)

x

the tempter

the corrupter

the ruiner of things

resist

no thanks

go away

we’ll bring in professionals

xxxxxif we have to

diaspora

we’re spread apart

you like us this way

we don’t believe in

xxxxxtogether

should we understand

that we are three in one

because God is

(that is the pattern)

we can stand alone

xxxxxJesus

xxxxxJohn

xxxxxElijah

xxxxxMoses

xxxxxeach and all did that

goodness, we know that well

but to be together

find gentle,

overwhelming power in that

we don’t know that

not anymore

not since the last time

and the time to come

and meantime?

we are together all the time

we only need to turn

to find each other

share the tiny glory

in that

the tiny victories

that add up

or they don’t

breathe in

breathe out

let life happen

as it’s supposed to happen

our alone times

our together state

the glory of the Lord

shine through

all shapes and sizes

everything and everyone

inside creation

not the devil

that gave up all right

to enter realms instead

of nothingness

x

x

elements

x

matter merges

xxxxxspiritual and fleshly

xxxxxmaterial

xxxxxgrain and grapes

xxxxxtogether

xxxxxeach part

xxxxxand together

xxxxxchanged

xxxxxinto finer things

xxxxxcloser to purpose

xxxxxcloser to creation

xxxxxand creation

xxxxxand what is finer than

xxxxxa smidgeon more intentional?

xxxxxall the wonder

xxxxxsimple and refined

xxxxxis here

xxxxxmade from the start

xxxxxmade full

xxxxxby God

xxxxxJesus

xxxxxand the Spirit

xxxxxwho are here

xxxxxwhose substance

xxxxxwhose presence

xxxxxis in here

xxxxxand is in you

x

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notes

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I’m sorry, while drafting I couldn’t think of women in the Bible who stood or prayed or fled to be alone; now I think that Mary could have been by herself when encountered by the angel and in her response to the announcement and the will of God; Judith might have prayed on her own, away, as well; and Esther might have planned the salvation of Israel in the same way

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Photo by Mark Duffel on Unsplash

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