if I watch them run
I wait until it’s over
then think of breathing
c l couch
photo by Selma DA SILVA on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
two poems for young people
x
x
Youth
x
They (you) look so young
Not like those near altars
Of antiquity
Who are forever beautiful
But cannot move
x
These might be cared for carefully
That youth might be preserved
Youth cannot be preserved
x
Youth might invest their own
(your own)
So that the coming days
Are rich
With age and wisdom,
Maybe things put by
x
But (you) run without avarice
Or even long ambition
Become parts of a transitory mural
That is bright
All colors
Shapes
At least three dimensions,
Which will have no museum
Save in memory
x
x
Locksmithing
x
Who holds the keys?
Why are there keys?
Why are their locks?
What is kept?
What must be freed
Up with which
From being locked?
x
Behind the door
Once opened
Nothing might be withheld
But secrets of the arrogance
The avarice in
Withholding
Private parties
Boring,
Frightening without joy
From the absconded powerful
x
There might be secrets
For the young to own
(they, you
should have mentors)
If taught or teach themselves
(yourselves)
How to
Break out
x
This is the story
Of the end of age’s
Generation
The beginning of another
An ownership
That could calcify
So-called in privilege
Or turn around
Turn everything around
Toward all the growth
In revelation
And unwithheld resources
For life
With invention
Food, that is, and challenge
x
Keeping democracy
(boo say some, but)
We need it
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Burned Out at the Salton Sea
Photo by Tina Rataj-Berard on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Momentum
(for friends)
x
You know,
I write several things
A day
And then choose
One of them
Some days I only write
One thing
And I use that
I tell myself that if there’s
Nothing, then I won’t
Have anything
To share
And that has to be
All right
Occasionally, that happens
Not so often
If I have access to my
Small machines
Among them the device
Inside
x
I say this because
This is where I am today
Not quite Pooh Corner
I admit
I cannot do everything
I want and like the apostle
Sometimes I do
The thing I hate
Though I think it’s more
That I don’t do
The thing I want
Even love
To do
x
I could ask
Where is the energy
Of youth, that
Sweet bird,
Though I think we know
That energy is finite
Like the push-pull
Universe
And that we always tire
So we
Run the race we can
Then rest
x
I know
You’re at the
Starting line
With me each day
I want to be with you
We go
And if we’re smart
We’ll rest
When there’s been enough
Join me today
Won’t you
In the race
That for us
Is cosmic laced,
Spiced, intertwined
With spirit
(or have spirit
laced with cosmic
thinking the spirit understands
either way)
The cosmic race
The spirit race
The human race
x
C L Couch
x
x
Isaac Newton Telescope on La Palma in the evening light
Photo by Frantisek Duris on Unsplash
x
Romans 7:14-15
(Hebrews 12:1 et al)
x
Timpi
Timpi
Timpani
Steady the beat
Avoid the roll
That ends with
A set of
Cymbals’ crash
Self-control
Must be a challenge
In the heat
Even the heat
Inside the
Body
Or maybe in-
Between
Two bodies
Maybe in some
Atoms of
Moments, we
Find control,
Once we
Release it
And yet
Restraint—take
A moment, take
A breath—is
Not a bad
Course, either
Listen
Watch and learn
The lessons
And the rhythms
Of life are
Coming at you
Some assembly
With discretion
Required
Before we
Let all run
And run away
C L Couch
Word-High July: Welcome!
Maria of Doodles and Scribbles and I [that’s Rosema at rosemawrites] are more than excited to read your takes on the 30 Beautiful Filipino Words.
- Write or create a post inspired or about the Filipino word prompts.
- A post can be anything. A poem, a fiction, a six-word tale, or even a photo. It’s all up to you.
- Linkback/create a pingback to this post: Word-High July 30 Beautiful Filipino Words. Here is a quick tutorial on how to do a pingback.
- Tag your post with WordHighJuly, so your co-bloggers will be able to read/see your take on the prompt. Here’s how you create tags.
- Most important of all, read and comment to your blogger friends (old and new found, we’ll never know).
HOP ON and let’s all GET WORD-HIGH this JULY!
Young Frankenstein
This phrase came to mind
Out of the season’s time:
When the veil fails, speaking
Of Hallowe’en
This is what those of ancient
Lore believed—that gossamer-
Iron webs and steel-misty
Vapors held the other side
On a spellbound, ritualed
Line
Except for
This one time each year
I don’t know what this means;
The child in me didn’t
Care
I dressed colorfully, unusually
Looked through eyeholes
Of masks sweated ’round
The fabric on my face
I was young and relatively
Free
To run my neighborhood
Receiving chocolate reward
For feeling the thrill of cool
Air as more night rushed
Over my skin,
Through folds in costumes,
The faster that I moved
clcouch123 
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