spooky times

(x = space)

x

x

spooky times

x

have a good hallowe’en

be safe

no razor blades

did that ever happen

not to invoke a retry

of insanity

nothing to do

with trick-or-treat magic

costumes for the veil

that entertain

the fun kind of fear

civil ghosts

good witches who

spell out

in autumn

south in spring

in chocolate letters

marshmallow punctuation

masks

ephemeral disguise

‘til it’s time to treat

x

c l couch

x

x

Four pumpkins, individually carved for Halloween 2020. One with a COVID mask.

(detail)

photo by the blowup on Unsplash

London, UK

x

Futurism

(x = space)

x

x

Futurism

x

Men retreat

Women advance

Children waiting

They play

An idea forms

A dream invented

All go toward

An interpretive horizon

Until the line and

Agenda are released

And all go home

With marbles

So many

You would not believe

x

C L Couch

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x

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

x

We’re Often Told

(x = space)

x

x

We’re Often Told

x

I have no idea why

A nice song comes to mind

And then another

It’s not for beatific sleep

Or a sweet disposition

Wakened first thing

By the telephone

It’s not because of bristly

Wind outside,

Blowing what fall colors

We have known

Off slender branches

That could have been clothed

A while longer, should

Nature have consulted me

Tired, cranky

Thinking so-and-so by so-and-so

And I mean me

It should be a gray and spiny

Day by all accounts

Gray and apathy

Yet pleasant lyrics

With their high notes come

My way, though I did not

Ask them to

Serenaded by the mariachis

I have made up in

A mind that will not quit

Drugged by caffeine,

Scarred over

Not so pretty if I ever was

An inside and an outside

Needing shelves

And somehow from the files

Arising from the folders

Made of neurons

There is

Something to listen to

The kind that has no hearing

Seeing a singer

Who’s not there

On stage in costume

For a minimal production

Of a bittersweet play,

Which is what I get

Shortly after waking

On a late-fall day

In Pennsylvania of the USA

Wherever you might be

Might be the same

Company across telepathy

Made by

The chief of surgery

Who’s had the job

Since there were eons

Needing mending

With a song

x

C L Couch

x

x

“Somebody to Watch Over Me” by Ira Gershwin, George Gershwin

x

Photo by Dmitriy K. on Unsplash

Kyiv, Украина

x

For All Souls

(x = space)

x

x

For All Souls

x

Soon

And very soon

It will be time for

Remembering

The dead

Los Díos de los Muertos when

Graveyards light with

Stunning light in

Some places,

Other places

Less so

For remembrance

x

There will be candy

Other foods

Meals shared beside

The stones

It is Latino

Latin-x

Other groups have other ways

Of memory

x

For some, this becomes

A party

Like a wake

For others, city-wide

Express or digress

There will be something

It is for

Everyone

Para todos

x

To Latin-x

The community

In thanks

The ones who inspire

A lighted way

For shadows,

A way to catch our tears

But for love

In remembering

x

C L Couch

x

x

Sugar skulls before decoration.

[image b]y Jonathunder – Own work, GFDL 1.2, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63912646

x

(sorry, I add a hyphen to Latin as a help in my pronouncing)

x

Slight Season

(x = space)

x

x

Slight Season

x

The sun is out

I should be going to it

There might be chill

It might be fall

At last

Not too soon to winter, please,

Which is the trouble

With the seasons in-between

Their timing seems so fragile

When

Arriving

Surprising, when it seems

They stay a good, long while

Leaving the severities

To themselves

And their own time

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Jana Shnipelson on Unsplash

x

Look Now

(x = space)

x

x

Look Now

x

I pulled on the window shade

The old-fashioned kind

I got stuck with

Gray all around

I suspect another strange fall day

Too hot in the eastern USA

This year

x

It takes a couple tugs

But without the absurd length

That it can get to,

The shade goes up

And it might be too hot

But the leaves that look at me

Inches from the glass

Are autumn first

Colors mixed with summer green

Red and orange, yellow

All say hi

(green sighs)

We are here

x

It is the season, anyway

And I am thankful

Whose formality comes

Later on

With cornucopia

Thick tablecloths

And such

x

And while there is no peace

There is small, sustaining

Joy

In nature’s

Hello in the season

Outside

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by eberhard 🖐 grossgasteiger on Unsplash

x

Eras of Antiquity

(x = space)

x

x

Eras of Antiquity

x

I like to collect things

That are old

Someone else’s using it

The first time

Effort rubbed into

The corners

The physics of depression from

Simple movement

Over time

Any substance

Any shape

Is worth it

Only the criteria

Of use

And lack of destruction

Without the hope of

Being remade

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Peter Pryharski on Unsplash

x

Bring All Your Failures

(x = space)

x

x

Bring All Your Failures

x

A line in a gospel song

I’d say that’s right

As an invitation

To the altar

Bring what’s wrong

Don’t worry about

The Sunday best

God will take you as you are

That kind of party

Come as you are

Forgiveness and the feast

Are especially for you

When you are

That way

x

C L Couch

x

x

Psalm 141:2

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

x

“God So Loved”

Written By: We The Kingdom, Andrew Bergthold, Martin Cash, Franni Rae Cash, Scott Cash and Ed Cash
Album: Live At The Wheelhouse (2019)

x

Split Light

(x = space)

x

x

Split Light

x

Lord,

What if I had gone

The way that you had chosen

The way that you had shown me

From the start?

I can’t chalk up misdirection

To youthful energy

Or ignorance at any age

Or indiscretion

As a peccadillo

I was wrong

That’s it

Except the thing is, Lord,

I was told by other people

People with agendas

Before I understood my own

I think when we were quiet

We got along just fine

And I was learning something

Of your way

But there were intrusions

With everything awry

I lost my way

With you

With everything

I didn’t know what or whom

To count on

Or to latch onto

I tried to lead myself alone

Well, you know how that goes

So I am here

All the distractions are the same

I’m not that much different, either

Sometimes I can hear you calling

Call to me, now

With pardon

Even with revelation

Speak through my broken hearing

Tell me

I will try to listen

Break through the sullenness,

The perspective problem of the child

Yet with a child’s bearing

I may hear

Then follow through

In an awkward, side-stepped way

Made out of mistrust

This time

Lamed somewhat by the world,

Which I’ll take

As my fault

For having gone in, first

With willfulness

Break will, too,

Without breaking me

Reknit into something straight

With my permission

And my consultation

Let new will prevail

With a team of mates

Upon the ship

Sailing not to glory

But to glory’s home

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Bruno Thethe on Unsplash

x