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Month

February 2022

All Love

(x = space)

x

x

All Love

x

All of us

For Jesus

All of each of us

I heard it in Sunday School

Today

Sure, you may have it

x

Really?

If Jesus wants this broken body

And this tired mind

And all the loves

Requited, unrequited

Then

Jesus may have them

x

Is that so much?

Not really—you

May have it

Have it all,

Jesus

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Matt Marzorati on Unsplash

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Deception

(x = space)

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Deception

x

A devotional

Means devotion

Means devoted

Attending and obeying

A liege lord

There is one, only one

Who may pull rank

On all of us,

Stewards in the realm

x

A king, one king

Call it queen

There might be jesters in

The courts of heaven

Reminding us

That foolish to the world

Is wise

Fools for stewards,

Then

x

The world, though,

Might only get angel cacophony

From those who hear

The choirs of heaven

Over the fields

And do not believe

x

The shepherds

They are wiser

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

“Electromagnetic Crown”

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Counting Spring

(x = space)

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x

Counting Spring

x

The winter is like spring

Today

Not cold,

Blustery

Keep your balloons inside

It will turn back

He saw his shadow, after all

(don’t worry—he’s not

so accurate)

We’ll need balm to fly the kite

Warmth to whet the wind

That’s when spring

Is real

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Emanuel Haas on Unsplash

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Nonsense

(x = space)

x

x

Nonsense

x

Some days make sense

Not this day

Maybe half

The half of me that slept and ate

And feels neither hot nor cold

And has energy to power

This machine

Into which I’m writing

And, for now, through which

You might be reading

x

Which is how I’m handling

The other half

The scarred, bleeding, twisted

Other half

That might be more than half

Tomorrow

Because I know there have been days

x

And this part needs

Understanding

As in compassion, yes,

But understanding

Like math

Like where the cities are

On a map

Like the aspect of pain

That cries that this is wrong

Unreasonable

To a listening God

Who loses us,

We’re sure

x

Whose mortal timing, self-imposed,

Becomes weighted

And unshifting

Providence

Today

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Arash Asghari on Unsplash

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Dream Team

(x = space)

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Dream Team

x

I haven’t slept

I’m waiting

Any moment now

I’ve closed my eyes

Lain still

Got as comfortable

As I could

Not enough

Morpheus is for dreams

I can’t recall who is

For sleep

Do the muses visit?

How about someone

From another

Group,

Egyptian or

A Mayan?

I’m more than willing

To negotiate

For obeisance

In exchange for

Some hours

Of nothing more

x

C L Couch

x

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Wilhelm von Gloeden (1856–1931), Hypnos. The title (“Sleep” in Greek) comes from the fact that the boy holds two flowers of Brugmansia (a.k.a. “datura”), having a hypnotic effect.

x

Horde

(x = space)

x

x

Horde

x

Today is my mother’s birthday

She would be in her nineties, now

She died in her fifties

Cancer got her

Got inside my father, too

Is inside my brother

x

I could swear, but calling it

A bastard doesn’t matter

Cancer doesn’t care

It simply comes to cells and changes

Them so that they’re not good

Anymore

Like turning faithful into infidels

Except, again, cancer isn’t interested

x

As far as we know

It has no soul

It simply ruins everything

And we can’t cure it yet

Though there are treatments

x

Hard, difficult,

Life-changing treatments

Not like quinine (vitamin C) for scurvy

Not like the shots

That kept and keep

Polio and small pox away

Cancer treatments are harsh and

Guarantee nothing

The cancer might not go away

It might go away

And then come back

Survivors have success stories

But we are so far from

Eradication

x

We should include a clause in every

Contract, every negotiation

Domestic, international

A commitment to take part

In eliminating

Cancer

With ongoing maintenance,

A best and last campaign

Into whatever hell

Is fit for plagues

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash

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Strange Day

(x = space)

x

x

Strange Day

(14 February)

x

Charlie Brown

Gets an empty mailbox

We read the messages

On candy hearts

My mother made

A pink cake, heart-shaped

There were notes of

Love sent between the

Martyr and the followers

Such a strange day

We’ve made of this

Not bad

Sometimes bittersweet

Mostly strange

Red roses

That mean passion

Champagne, perhaps

Chateaubriand or other

Famous dish

Made for two

I forgot, Cupid

And the little round angels

Firing arrows into people

That don’t hurt unless

You don’t want

To feel that way

Strange day

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by jabez Samuel on Unsplash

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Overnight

(x = space)

x

x

Overnight

x

We got snowed on

Last night

x

Not much

Enough to cover everything

x

The new look

Will not last

x

People have to travel roads

To get to work

x

And everything

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Nathan Wolfe on Unsplash

“Faceless Snowman”

Bend, United States

x

Split Life

(x = space)

x

x

Split Life

(12 February)

x

Today is the birthday

Of Abraham Lincoln

Peer Kentuckian

Who finished growing up

Somewhere else

First Republican

And best

Sixteenth President

And we will argue

x

Tall, wearing a beard because

Someone said it would

Look good

Splitter of rails

And he had other talents

Self-taught

Until he got to schools

Lawyer, legislator

Failed entrepreneur

Failed at many jobs

Not a success story

Until the one great thing

x

Freer of slaves, though hardly alone

In that

Slavery should never

Have happened;

We’ve been paying for it ever since

Until together

We might march on

x

Moderator of the Civil War

What a wicked way

To spend one’s fifties

Railed (another way)

Until an overwhelming victory

Came to pass

And then

To count the dead

And give them stones

Play “Dixie” on the White House lawn

Killed a few days later

(not for that)

x

His remains buried back in

Springfield, Illinois

His body for the nation

His spirit unto judgment

Thence we hope

To paradise

And so it could be

For all

x

C L Couch

x

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split-rail fence at Gettysburg

photograph by Jesse Lee Tucker – own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51840069

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