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Magic Acts

(x = space)

x

x

Magic Acts

x

The day is

Here

And I am glad

And it’s a mess

And I

Am glad

x

Snow would vie with rain

Ice with streets

That are only wet

The wintry mix

They say

That sounds like salad

In a bag

I could select from bags

In the store

x

Thank you for

Messy days

Indeterminate;

I think I see

A patch of yellow and of green

On the tree out back

And now it’s gone,

That is,

The patch of light

And not

The tree

x

Yes, it is

Strange magic

Or I think it is

And I have a movie on

That I barely see or hear

Because

The day itself

Is more compelling,

And I can keep the background

Images

And especially the sounds

For the distraction

Of tinnitus

x

While looking better

At the black and brown

And white

And listening for wind

That pushes everything

x

A moving day outside

With patches

Now and then

Of yellow and of green,

Brighter parts

And shaded

While the sun and moon

Trade places

x

And is that not

(sorry,

kinescope

and nickelodeon)

The more compelling

Magic

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash

x

0

Salut

(x = space)

x

x

Salut

x

The day has

Gone from blue to gray

And if so

That’s what we’ll have

But still it is the day

And it is ours

Not to possess

But to keep

As in maintain

Improve

In gratitude

x

A paean to the planet

Only gods who are

Not there

Desire;

Praise is fine

But better spent

In care

Like rearing children

Or taking care of grown-ups

In their ages

(maybe six and seven

out of seven)

x

In other words,

Do well by Earth

While it is

Under you and over you

And inside you

For planets

And our home among them

Circling stars

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by redcharlie | @redcharlie1 on Unsplash

x

1

Gospel According to Today

(x = space)

x

x

Gospel According to Today

x

The gospel for today

Is pick something

Choose something like a star

Says Frost

Or enter through time’s wrinkle

Teaches L’Engle

Who taught us to type this way?

They have names

And objects as names

They are the first typewriter

Makers, manufacturers,

And agents

Not bad people

How would we have got this far?

x

Forget them all today

Go outside

And listen for good news

Type it on your minds

Let your tongues be pages

As you tell

Others

What is wonderful

And challenging

And terrible

And potential

In the day

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by alyssa teboda on Unsplash

x

2

Tune in Tomorrow

(x = space)

x

x

Tune in Tomorrow

x

I’m not smart;

I don’t have a smart phone

Or a smart house

Or a smart life

x

I use the ticking of a clock,

Not an association,

Other wind-up ways

And, yes, electron ways

To note

Time passing

As it does

In society

x

My books do not have faces

(not meaning the clock)

Though they do have bindings

For clarity

In anticipation

x

They have tropes and memes,

I’m sure

x

This will be changing

Naturally,

Technologically, enough

x

My cars have had computers

For a while

And I still like the lure

Of robots’ walking service

And companionship,

Of a jetpack set upon my back

So I may fly over

Land and water

And through clouds

Of other worlds

x

Childhood’s end,

Mister Clarke,

And childhood’s dreaming

With all the songs

I used to listen to

That would resonate

With or without volume

Later on

x

Things change

x

Some things fall apart,

Sometimes the center:

The poem and

The novel know this,

Through our

Participation

x

Some remains

(some remains)

On the edge

Like samples in a centrifuge

Or in the washer after

Machinic wringing

As a body might wring something

Autonomically

(or for the therapist to say)

x

Memories,

Some items

Metaphors

And totems

x

Worn wires

And connectors

Old, most likely small

Machines

x

Storied threads

Kept in shadowed places

Until the knob is turned,

The door opened

x

The wires, threads, and all

Intertwine

In our own alchemy

Into today

With new things,

Many things

Applied

x

All mix

Then when done

Can sough and sigh

Into the future

x

Terms and

Formal understandings

Are better for tomorrow;

Today is for the

Result of threading

Into compromise,

Often astounding,

Of things good,

Some bad

Things tested,

Some waiting to be tried in

The world

Or safe at home

x

I’ll tell you things

And will you tell me, please?

That will be star-stuff

Mister Sagan,

Ms Druyan

x

On Earth

More locally for now

A charm, token, song today, tomorrow–

Story-stuff

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Alberto Bobbera on Unsplash

x

0

Native American Heritage Day

(x = space)

x

x

Native American Heritage Day

(26 November 2021)

x

Hundreds of years

And last year

Too late

And, no, first families

Weren’t always good

With each other

We’re not celebrating

Perfection

We’re hedging against

Annihilation

So much more is needed

Against the situation

Mostly

Whites have caused

x

Is there hope

On reservations,

The better land having been

Cheated away?

I don’t know—do you?

Real homes for real people

Real lives

Real race

To stand alone

Or add into the melting pot—that’s

Self-determination

x

Give us a day

But we’ll need tomorrow, too

x

C L Couch

x

x

Six panel high resolution mosaic of the Cygnus region from the Butterfly nebula to the Crescent nebula. 3 hours of integration for each panel from a dark sky location in Spain. Zoom in for details in the various regions.

Photo by Aldebaran S on Unsplash

Fregenal de la Sierra, Spain

x

4

Own

(x = space)

x

x

Own

x

So, Lord,

What shall we have

Today?

We shall have burnt toast,

It seems,

My fault

The coffee is all right

Except now the

Button doesn’t work

That turns if on and off,

The last

Of many things, I think,

That say it’s

Time for another

Will you lead me to another

Coffeemaker, Lord?

Or have an angel do that,

Please?

So small

And there are many things

So much larger

(the ocean is so large,

and my boat is so small)

But things push

The economy, I suppose,

And angels

Are your agents

x

There are clouds

There might be rain,

Perhaps a storm

This is your day

Because you made it

This is my day

Because my choices

Matter in it

Because of will

And degrees of determination,

This day belongs

To all of us

I wonder how we’ll own it

I wonder what we’ll do

x

C L Couch

x

x

Stormy Stornoway

Photo by Lachlan Gowen on Unsplash

Stornoway, United Kingdom

x

0

Fall on Your Knees

Fall on Your Knees

 

A new and glorious morn

For no reason other than arriving

Nothing special

Meaning all things are

 

Look for saints outside,

Dodging puddles

Miracles in coffee cups

Epiphanies while

Sliding on coats and gloves

 

It’s the oddest day, today

For being normal

It’s stunning and spectacular

For no reason at all

Except for what it’s earned

In being here

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

West Hollywood, United States

 

0

Reading the Next Day

Reading the Next Day

 

Going back to reading what

Was written

Sometimes there’s little sense

Like looking back on doodles

Or freewriting

Looking back on other things

That’s harder

Talking with fewer people in old age

Means less chance for faux pas

Or maybe it’s reclusion

Only

I don’t need a bigger pile

Piling in the in-box

Who does?

 

I go back to what I read

Having picked it up in the middle of the night

Because I wasn’t sleeping yet

And a story called

(I’m not sure who was more at fault)

When I return

Will I be welcome?

Will I be welcomed again?

I mean, yes, I bought the thing

But there’s more

An invitation

Riding like the girl who

Delivered most of the news

From Paul Revere

The book is here:

Will I take the message?

Will I accept responsibility for

Interpretation, then dissemination

Throughout the land?

 

You see, clearly there are questions

And there’s pressure

A lady or a tiger

Re-reading yesterday’s

New pages

In new hours

And then there’s what I’ve written

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Prasanna Kumar on Unsplash

Besant nagar beach, Chennai, India

Books, most loyal friends.

 

If true, Ludington’s story puts Revere’s to shame, writes Valerie DeBenedette for Mental Floss. She “rode twice as far as Revere did, by herself, over bad roads and in an area roamed by outlaws, to raise Patriot troops to fight in the Battle of Danbury and the Battle of Ridgefield in Connecticut,” DeBenedette writes. “And did we mention it was raining?”

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonianmag/was-there-really-teenage-female-paul-revere-180962993/

 

3

Feet, Do Your Thing

Feet, Do Your Thing

 

We have enough to do

It’s good—work a job, earn money

Make a home

Have a way to get around

Have life

I don’t mean to say that it’s enough

For now or for a few

Or for a multitude

There should be more

We know that

Take a breath

Inhale, then remember to exhale

Let something out that’s maybe been kept

Inside too long

 

Now, something more

Service is good

What we can do, we should

I’ll take an open door, a meal hosted

By a friend

Growth through a colleague

Or a stranger encountered

These are by someone else

By my own hand if not design,

I can listen

By hearing with all senses

I can send a message

To encourage

Like first valentines

For love of those held down

A martyr in a cell

 

I feel just a little rested

I’m still poor in most things

But I can do

When there’s gas in the car,

Give a ride

Level up the change at the store

As a donation to a cause

No one takes issue with

(or maybe takes, so what)

Take a walk and smile a little to the world

Is that hoke?

I should take my chances

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jake Hills on Unsplash

 

 

the title, I keep thinking–I know (now) there is a song with it in the title; but I think I heard it in a cartoon or an old movie

 

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