from time to time
and this is what I write
when it’s only me
beside
the solitary act
I mean
it’s only me in thought and typing and for
no special benefit
I think
though in it
something good or
clear
and both
perhaps
from time to time
and
sometimes
(to
confess
that)
things make sense
after
the verse
somehow
and is this why we write
and
it isn’t but what
happens
by surprise
on that occasion
and as the server says
these parts
awhile
c l couch
photo by Csabi Elter on Unsplash
Long Earth
Thinking
About day and night
In the spring surprise of
Noting
Blue light persisting
Layered
And
Dissolving in to dark
And yet the longer time
As Earth considers turning
Back
Leaning to favor
Days of planting in the northern
Half
While the southern part
Has winter
A cycle of
Waking
Hibernation
Still for a billion years
Two billions or so
Until a final pressing
To go away
To land upon another world
With the surprise
Discovery
Of its own planetary cycles
And its seasons become
Our own
C L Couch
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
first poem led to the second
x
x
staging
x
orange-pink
next to the tree
in the distance
deep blue sky
mostly
with the morning star
small and white
looking far-off
nova-like
in the waveless sea
predawn
it’s dawning now
only started
when I looked through
the blinds
hearing nearly nothing
on the street
in the tree
the usual outside
the window
absent
muffled
however everything prepares
so early
for the normal noise to come
x
x
Open Range
x
God
I wondered
If you ever might
Be surprised
Like us
Because you are in part
Like us
I mean
It goes that way as well
Made in your image
Aren’t we then
Like you
And if it’s on the inside
Then emotions
And sensations
Might be attributed
To you
Pleasure
Perhaps
And passion
Love
Even the fragile feeling
And do you feel sad
x
We say you’re angry
(it’s in
our books)
It was the impetus that
Forbearance
Allowed enough
The ark
With some people on it
To survive
The keel-less journey
x
Some say Gilgamesh
As well
While some and others
See and hear
Your anger in extremities
Of nature
(outside nature)
In the storms
Lightning fires
And eruptions
Even in
Quakes
That certify your condemnation
Or our use of land
x
Or that you stretch
Because you do
Your might because it is
Inside the
Cosmos
And must have its say
In addition to
The munificence of creation
x
So if
Everything’s available
Every aspect
Then you might mourn
And be taken
Unaware
Be satisfied
And disappointed
Have a plan
And have it moved
Knowing both parts
Are approved
x
And there’s the qualifier
Maybe
Whatever happens
Happens
In your sight
And your hearing
The smell
The touch
The taste
Of your omniscience
So that
Fragility is held by strength
Options are
More or less contained
And unaware
Might be for fun
Except for earnestness
Part of the plan
Somehow
You feel it
And you know it
Then move on
So you could say
With justice
That you knew it all along
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by César Couto on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Ow
x
I rock my back
My back says ow
My mouth forgets to say
x
I fell down some stairs
Last night
It’s still a curiosity
x
I didn’t have to sacrifice
The plate that I was holding
Ow, I’m learning
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Szabo Viktor on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Temporary Beautiful
x
I don’t know
We walk in snow today
If we want to
It fell when nighttime degrees
Encountered would-be rain
x
There is wind
To keep it down
For a while
Though the temperatures
Won’t keep it long
x
Without worry,
We can hear the muffled sounds
Or spring and morning
Watch the white
Most of which will disappear
Before it’s trodden
Everywhere
x
No slush
No pushing it
This way or that
Simply have it
Behold the art
That won’t outlast the Grecian urn
Except by hours
Give credit to
The artist of the
Temporary beautiful
x
C L Couch
x
x
“The Artist of the Beautiful” is a short story by Nathaniel Hawthorne. “Ode to a Grecian Urn” is a poem by John Keats.
x
Photo by Nadiia Ploshchenko on Unsplash
snowfall January 13th 2021
x
(x = space)
x
x
Grace Shall Abide
x
What is grace
But surprise
Wrapping us
Inside a storm,
Bringing us to
Unnoticed shelter
Where there’s
A song to sing
Through thunder
And a light
So much steadier
Than lightning
x
The ground
Might tremble
But we are held as
Much as we
Need to be for
Safety until morning
When should the
Storm rage on
Or anyway,
Grace shall abide
x
(fine)
x
coda
x
Not a human
Agency; we do not
Dispense it and
Should not
Deceive ourselves
Nor about cost
Or which
There’s none:
x
We ask,
We receive;
Maybe it comes
Anyway,
A wild and loving
Trickery, fit for
Storms and then
In quiet moments
When a song
Rather than a curse
Can be,
Might be
Heard or
Received through
Other senses
x
d. c. al fine
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Pascal Bernardon on Unsplash
6 Boulevard du Palais, 75001 Paris, France, Paris
Concert à la Sainte Chapelle
x
Turn Around
This is sweeter than
I’d thought
(what I’m eating)
The day is still and white
But, look, the branches move
The movie is better
Than remembered
When leaning back,
The pillow touches the right place
From where
It had fallen
A surprise
Many small surprises
In this day
The day itself
A gift
From no one in particular
That is the disguise
Faith in costume
Grace behind a mask
It seems
We can’t have it any other way
C L Couch
United Nations COVID-19 Response
(Unsplash)
Physical distancing. Image created by Samuel Rodriguez. Submitted for United Nations Global Call Out to Creatives – help stop the spread of COVID-19.
Prismatic
How
Is it, God,
That you can love all things?
You can
Your capacity is the ocean
And the stars
With all that swims in both
Your depth is above heaven
Down to hell,
Deeper
We think ourselves so much
We move upon a planet
We are cruel
Sometimes we are kind,
Which shouldn’t have to come
Across
As a surprise
Are you sorry that you gave
The rainbow?
It’s a pledge to keep us here
There might be tests of
Floods, and
Maybe they could tempt you
Though I think we have your word,
If anyone
Could keep it
If anyone could stay a hand
Waiting for
What happens next
If there’s anything in a
Surprise
C L Couch
photo by James Wainscoat on Unsplash
created with garden hosepipe
Two Things More Are Needed
Grace as surprise
That’s a theme
I like to think of grace
As something
That can be still though
Typically must be
On the move
Like a metal spring
Or a hummingbird
Water
Or the human heart
Any heart
Still enough for recognition
Then it leaps
It has alighted
There is a knock
Small in the world
Like Thorin’s thrush
It will not show the way to
Dragon-hoard
But there is treasure
Like loot taken from a
Pirate in a story
Who does know the use of it,
Poor pirate
There is so much more here
And this story’s thrilling
Open it and read a page
Have someone read it for you
Watch for something on a branch
Or on your arm
Listen for a knock
Maybe you’ll let them in
C L Couch
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