more than Camelot
(31 December)
I tend to think
at
this moment
the long moment of the final day
of
Tennyson
(yes
Tennyson)
who has the last of Camelot
fallen
surrendered by Excalibur
the end of the year
with
the last
knight on the last steed
without a castle
or
a realm
riding into what is timed as the first day
of the new year
meaning
a new age
perforce
Tennyson’s own age
perhaps
our own
modern age
in which we must live
with machines
ending relationships
empire without nobility
but
greed to drive itself
and we are left
without
romance except nostalgia
of a time
we cannot know
and
so
happy new year
and that’s
all
and isn’t all
we are driven by sensation
cast in ego and in
vanity
it’s true
but
that’s nowhere near
the all that is
since we can do better
choose better
and
that’s it
that’s all if by capacity
somewhat relative
we decide how
we will be
and could we do better than
the phenomenon of resolutions
interesting to voice
and
then inevitable to fail
by
forgetting
and who knows might be forgettable
rather than making calls
for the day
for today
for now
and we could
through better means
re-understand sensation
ego
vanity
as good and even needul things
parts
of us
and choices
too
though except in urgent moments
consider
safe
consider health
consider love
and
yes
in taking such stands
consider what we stand against
the machines of vaingloriousness
that
influence
and keep a bodyguard of lies
enforcing
working inside-out
the cause that cannot last
the hypocrisies
that
will be exposed as crimes
or simple folly
to have followed
we can do better
should
do better
consider what is small
free
to do
say
in deciding love
then go from there
into the year
c l couch
(started with Idylls of the King by Alfred, Lord Tennyson)
photo by Godz1 on Unsplash
celestial travel ecumenical
the journey crost
over
the bar
a star that guides
the journey each of us have to
take
hoping the water’s navigable
and the pilot
knows the way
and has firm grip upon
the wheel
and can command the crew
both technically and
kindly
then Tennyson has sailed this way
crost to the other side
and
we might do the same in variants of
faith
and transport but
to arrive
to disembark or simply step
from this life into
heaven
or
what you call it
how you get
there
that
we may study
talk about
while we pursue
c l couch
Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
after Tennyson composed the poem, he requested that it appear at the end of all published collections, and it did
photo by Gene Gallin on Unsplash
"Cherry Branch-Minnesott Beach Ferry, North Carolina, USA"
2 poems about perspectives (and prompts)
anyone by Tennyson
(reflecting on “Ulysses”)
and if
Ulysses leaves
then
something wrong in Ithaca
something rotten
like the other precedence
to say
maybe his administration by which
his parting
will take the ill with him
and
shall we be ruled
then
by Penelope
who knows how to weave and
keep
the promise
loyal as all promises
are pledges
in
themselves
and so security humanity
in adventures bearing truth
and
at home
bearing love
reliably
secure
the place for that pursuit of happiness
also from the Greeks
to know
and so by wandering and settling
to have
yet
do not settle
say Ulysses and the followers
though
yet there must be a place
of ours
enacts Penelope
and
shall Telemachus serve as medium between
the parents
and the warring notions
of the heart
and will
battle well
the main place
the parts
where battle matters
“Ulysses,” a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, published originally in 1834
the ray
these
things that Bing promotes
the rays that fly through water
by Galapagos
they swim
they point the way they’ve gone
to mark the way
for what should follow
also
to defend
and promise that through the long black
point
that each possesses
and they do all of this
these creatures
and
the species
thousands of miles from here
though there are analogues
closer in
the beings have a mind
but no mind about this
they
do not move aware
of us
as we think we should be observed
and
recognized
rather
they move in life
and life
is what they know
both need and celebration driving
which is all to strive
against
our vanities
a lesson in moving existence
in all
“spotted eagle rays in the Galápagos Islands”
presented by Bing/Microsoft (Tui de Roy/Minden Pictures)
homepage 8/15/25
c l couch
photo by Maksim Shutov on Unsplash
Lisbon Oceanarium, Esplanada Dom Carlos I, Lisbon, Portugal
Once and Future
Camelot has fallen
The last knight rides
Away
Into the sunrise
Of the first day of the year
So Tennyson decided
Maybe based on information
Or more by
Insight
That had moved the poet
Through
Construction
And destruction
The rising
And the falling
Raised by music
Like cathedrals
Or said the poet’s peers
By the command of
Merlin
While depicting in
What must have seemed
Indomitable stone
All ascent and descent
In
Human ages
By
The wizard’s art
At its command
Now fallen also
The unearthly being
Sealed away
For now
And we are left
To ride away with Bedivere
Into our uncertain year
As
A matter of courses
When this hearing is done
And in our case
Unready for the courts
Ideals
By betrayals
Story-slain
As if by Mordred
Also
Guinevere
And Lancelot
All exposed
As our
Baser impulses toward
Ruination
Wrecking the foundation
Into rubble
That can
Support nothing like
The comely towers
Anymore
What kind of year
Is this
Where is the refuge
For the refugees
Shall Camelot be rebuilt
If only by words
In songs
Until we have the might
For right
To try again
With mortar in
Our stanzas
For now
On this first day
The sounds of riding
Harsh
Like our discourse
Now concluded
‘Til we open up
The pages of our lives
Again
While in a distant place
Already to be set
In camouflage by nature
The final
Burning
Broken stones of the last battle
Settle into
What had been
A part of Earth
More glorious
Somehow
By us
C L Couch
. . .
Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King,
Down that long water opening on the deep
Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go
From less to less and vanish into light.
And the new sun rose bringing the new year.
from “The Passing of Arthur,” concluding Idylls of the King by Arthur, Lord Tennyson
Photo by Jigar Panchal on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Break, Break, Break
x
I feel the weight
Of everything
And my heart can’t take it
Well, it can
I hope it can
It’s the manifestations of emotions
The effects
Of what has happened
Bad news
Does it get worse
Or does it feel worse?
Maybe I’m enduring
Or preparing
Where is Nietzsche’s strength?
Whatever doesn’t kill us
Leaves scars
Hard tissue
And doesn’t acclimate us
Better than
A more pedestrian process
x
No, as it goes on
We might become inured
While underneath
Our hearts
Break and break again
x
C L Couch
x
x
“Break, Break, Break”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
x
Photo by Tobias Tullius on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
While in Mariana’s Grange
x
Hello, day
It’s been a night of wakefulness
Then I drifted off
Onto waters of forgetfulness
Except for dreams
That now I’m here
I am forgetting, too
x
But here’s remembrance:
I’m waking up
To what I left
And whom
There is no ignorance
Everything returns
I must learn again
How to contain
In flesh
Everything I bear
And had left
Only for a while
For angels lifting up
And demons bearing down
x
C L Couch
x
x
Mariana in the Moated Grange
John Everett Millais
painting dated 1851
the image is in the Public Domain
the painting hangs in the Tate in London
x
clcouch123 
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