I talk you talk we'll talk






A new way of thinking

That’s what we make

Well, we make the frame

The content of new thinking

Is up to you

Which I mean in the best way possible

Fantastic responsibility

To move yourself

And your people



Maybe help with the first of these

So many layers added al the time


There was gray light

And I turned it on, and the lamp

The bulb

Changed light to gold

Like Rumpelstiltskin’s straw


It might rain

It might be on the way

We’ve had some downpours recently

But the forecaster says that

Our water table’s low


Good time for participation

For new things to fall

To wash the world some

Offering nourishment to the ground

And those who live upon it


It means grayness continues

Though we can have better light against

The darkness

Through craft

And letting go the work


C L Couch



Image by Raheel Shakeel from Pixabay


Found Art

Found Art


My sister’s shop

Is cool, if you like old things

I do

Actually, she’s moved it home

Closed up her vendor site

And now is selling though an auction

Place up the road

It’s working well


The shelves with all the items on

Them are now

In the guest room

I’m surrounded


By a bunny mold with eyes that have

No pupils (they would be added in the icing

once the cake is made), yet it somehow stares at me

There are cordial glasses

Old-style mason jars

Filled with marbles

Or shells found on beaches long ago

Nancy Drews

And cookbooks

Cameras that take film and mild-blue flash bulbs

She tells me they all function, still


But what I see everywhere is


Like the rabbit without eyes who looks at me

Pig, mole, gnomes, more pigs

(she likes pigs)

Dogs, Santa Claus

Unliving metal, porcelain, and glass

All made into living things


I have lots of company in this room


C L Couch



Photo by Mario Calvo on Unsplash


Want Adds

Want Adds


“we are seeking talented, enthusiastic individuals who are ambitious and hungry to grow”


Why can’t anyone

Be seeking laid-back

People who like to write

Poetry and to live

Like hobbits?


It gets worse

The ones on board are dressed in black

Or maybe deep, deep gray

They have many, smiling tiny teeth, maybe in many

Rows like sharks

They’d have slow-moving fish like

Me for lunch


Wanted—someone who likes art

And history

Someone who reads novels for lunch

Someone who eschews the necktie

The power whatever-else to wear

(female or male)

But who is loyalty

By default created

Who loves patterns and textures that

Go so far down and up so high


Who dreams

Who wants others to dream

The kind of dream that makes us real

If you have a job

Like that, please post it

Or maybe forget that and dial or

Wire me directly

(sorry, text or click


but) If you light a bonfire on a hill, that

Might do


C L Couch



Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash





A mélange of media


Painting leaps out of sculpture

Plaster writhes from metal into stone,

Lurks in upper corners

I don’t know how much we make of this

(the making and interpreting)

These days,

Though steampunk runs some tries at this,

I think

(and really well)


I remember pictures from a textbook

I doubt I’ll get to Spain to see

Just past the golden age

But I appreciate the media

Mixing up to make a life

Yours, mine, and ours

McLuhan notwithstanding,

We are the message

We go through the doors

Then rise

And all the art we’ve made


C L Couch






Tenth Muse

Tenth Muse


Nine muses

For the Greeks,

A tenth muse

For Filipinos

And for me

Grace and gift


I aspire toward



If paraluman

Visit and illumine


Then I shall, in

Turn, be filled

With art from


Philippine spirit


I could not

Ask for more

Than far-off


Breathe on me


Word-High July: Welcome!

Maria of Doodles and Scribbles and I [that’s Rosema at rosemawrites] are more than excited to read your takes on the 30 Beautiful Filipino Words.

  1. Write or create a post inspired or about the Filipino word prompts.
  2. A post can be anything. A poem, a fiction, a six-word tale, or even a photo. It’s all up to you.
  3. Linkback/create a pingback to this post: Word-High July 30 Beautiful Filipino Words. Here is a quick tutorial on how to do a pingback.
  4. Tag your post with WordHighJuly, so your co-bloggers will be able to read/see your take on the prompt. Here’s how you create tags.
  5. Most important of all, read and comment to your blogger friends (old and new found, we’ll never know).

HOP ON and let’s all GET WORD-HIGH this JULY!

Art in Anxious Time

Art in Anxious Time


I’m anxious and it’s

hard to write


art expressed in pain:

I don’t know how

those artists do it


maybe it’s big fear

and nihilistic agony

that keeps them

going, that prompts

expression that might

change the world

and everything



the gardeners at

Hiroshima and

Nagasaki must

accomplish this


I have small pains

and many things that

trouble me—yes,

sometimes they are

bad as in raw—

unformed, unfixed,


though I think the

only one that might

be changed through

treating these in art

is me


still, through all

the small-town

clay-house conflicts

I might strive to

express something



something that might

relate to you




(the teacher and good

sport in me should tell

you that clay house

is a Puritan metaphor)

for my poem friends, then all the rest

ISIS doesn’t like the arts

The terrorists brought down marvels
in ancient statues and friezes, having
murdered the curator defending these

and having no gun. They fired with guns
into a Paris concert venue, while the music
played and fans were sinuously in

tune, young ones with blissful
countenance and their own song. For this
was Friday night, and love for music

elevates. “They don’t like music,” Bono
claims, and he is right—art and
beauty have no place

in the terrorist agenda. So
dangerous must be the muse’s power
to prod a people into thinking and loving

with all art’s inspiration. So
much is beauty feared in the
mad-monger’s eye that it must be

demolished. And so we must see straight
and straighter. Protect our people, fight
back, and preserve our beloved and unique

intuitions and expressions. We must
remember, too, this is not a war on
Islam, whose tenets teach welcoming

and prayer. But what we make—which
is the poem’s meaning, that is, to
make—is taken now as part of who

we are. Life is better. Yet art moves
the heart, wakes up the mind: opening
our better selves. This terrorizes terror.

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