trying still too sick
outside might agree with me
green vying with white
c l couch
photo by Harri P on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Signs of Protest
(civilly offered)
x
I do not understand
The people who have died
From shooting,
From hunger
Or lack of safe water,
From COVID
x
You know what I mean,
I don’t understand
The situation
That allows for these
x
Too many guns,
Not enough
Food and water,
Too much disease
x
The solution seems mathematic
Fewer guns,
More food and water,
Less disease
x
I don’t care about the politics
We’ve made death too easy
And where politics might be concerned,
We’ve rendered people into blots:
x
We take off our glasses
And look at the blots from a distance
x
We have the right
To kill
Except we don’t have it
x
Made-up spies, perhaps
Soldiers who follow orders,
Though there’s too much a burden
For them,
The soldiers and the orders
x
Stay strong
Broker peace
Don’t outlaw emotions
But outlaw hate
x
Maybe slowly we’re getting there
I don’t know
Maybe you do
I hope so
Because I have to count on you
And you and you
Not as blots
But with the most urgent
Kind of clarity
x
C L Couch
x
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International Women’s Day in Barcelona, Spain (2009). The motto, written in Catalan, says: “Total crisis in the patriarchal system”.
By Mutari – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6151838
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finding an image to represent protest was harder than I thought it would be; I chose this photograph because I agree that the patriarchal system is in crisis: in fact, IS a crisis
x
Ending of the Week
(through the sickness)
It’s a special day
A day in Ramadan
Sabbath time will start for Jews
Christians may anticipate
A sabbath, too
For those who don’t believe,
It’s Friday
And it’s now
There is no better time
For breathing and for other
Action
Speaking of breathing,
The Buddhists can teach
The rest
Something about that
And they do
As far as I know, we are between
Times for special Hindu
Celebrations
But fauna call for
Remembrance all the time
We all should respect nature
So well
And this is what I know
Not so much, really
So many stories to see,
To hear
I won’t receive them all
But I want to
For those without a weekend,
It is different
I can feel for you,
If you don’t mind
I used to have my weekends
In the week
But for the front-liners
Standing, acting against disease
With everything that
Conflagrates
I don’t know what to say except
You rank me
And thank you
C L Couch
Photo by Gift Habeshaw on Unsplash
Tentatively Yours
If we are to heal,
There has to be a hope
That someday it will be complete
That all the things that festered
Will have finally unwound
From the brain, the heart
Any infected organs
That persistence of pain will
Be replaced
With something like assurance in
Confidence of being well
That the counting that has met
Each day
Now useless
Will give way
To errands, nothing much
A nothing kind of day
Wouldn’t that be nice
Wouldn’t that be lovely
To have a day that’s dulled by
Anything but pain
Not to be morose
For what I have
I’ll still wrap around mortality
Until the glorious surprise
Of the next thing
C L Couch
Photo by Michael Anfang on Unsplash
Pity the Party
Wow, pain is such a disconnect
Like depression
That I also take a pill for
What is there to care for?
What do I care about?
Who cares for me?
I have accoutrements
A blanket ‘round my shoulders
While I’m cold
Toast (the start of a loaf)
Some grapes (the last of them)
I gave up coffee and caffeine
As if it were my own form of Lent
Though I can’t recall
A decision for
The sake of my soul
Pills have side effects
These press down, too
I am surrounded
The best thing that I have
Are movies
But I’d rather be the artisan
Than the spectator
So sit up to write
A little more
I’d rather make
Than borrow off
Another’s making
I mean, there’s allusion
Citation when it’s proper
Or otherwise might render
A source beyond reach
If not belief
Or to leave it all, hoping for
Belief in the beholder
Well, some system
Is protesting
The strain of illness
Or the medication
Most of this I doubt I’ll leave
Though there might be something
I can’t see or hear
That someone else
Much better at beholding will
Do I pray?
I do and hope for more
But I haven’t a perspective
The thermostat is broken
Someone else must regulate
What happens next,
Which is what I think
The praying’s for
C L Couch
Image by ImageParty from Pixabay
Waiting the Hour
I used to swim a lot
Back and forth across the pool
Down to the bottom, where
There was clarity up-close
I learned the different strokes
And what was then
Life-saving
I’m unsure how that’s changed,
What’s preferred about
Administering the kiss of life
And such
Eventually, I would tire
But there was such a store
To keep me going then
To bring me back next day
Heat in the air, cold water
The extremes were not the issues
I’m only sick
I will recover,
Which means I’m overdoing
Over-something
When I’m better I’ll, you know,
Test the waters
C L Couch
Photo by Zbysiu Rodak on Unsplash
Calle de San Andrés, Golf del Sur, Spain
Passenger
Disorientation
Getting sick
Trying not to
No, what is it
Trying to get well
Two infections
And did they damage my heart?
Became the overarching question
So a string of tests
Withholding diagnosis in the mean time
Withholding treatment, too
The pain was high
Still is
Less lousy, I can say
C L Couch
clcouch123 
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