(x = space)
x
x
monday protest
x
get up
listen to the noise
and go
and this is how it starts
x
a day
in the modern world
x
no,
thank you
iI’ll stay here
in the drab place
and time
x
of dark and cold
of sleep
and safety
well
x
i won’t grow up
not i
x
if you must leave
i’ll stay
x
c l couch
x
photo by eduardo mallmann on unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
August on Deck
(easy greetings)
x
It’s Friday
Anticipate a weekend
Late summer
Final trip before the school year
Work at home
Clean at home
Leave the home
For the park
For stores
For church
Find company
Leave company
Hours on one’s own
The quiet might invite
x
Or out into the world
A different way
A drive, a walk
To nowhere in particular
A new nowhere
Untried
Something heard of
Or an inviting opening
A path into
Some inviting part of the world
Keep safe
Why not
x
After the anthem,
Play ball
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Maksym Tymchyk 🇺🇦 on Unsplash
I look at this
I can smell the stalks, the petals
Memory, I suppose
x
(x = space)
x
x
Shadowlands
x
Plato
C. S. Lewis
My hand by
The computer light
Shadows with shadows,
I suppose
With something firmer
On the other side
That could be relied on
For an eternity
Something waiting
Something inspiring
An ideal
A world of ideals
That’s what we learned
In school
So what have we here?
Which world shimmers
For the other
Though we presume
The other world’s better?
What do we sense here?
What do we make?
What lasts?
We have our treasures
And we try to keep them
We use guards
We have alarms
Things might fade anyway
Or break
And we keep making
Stockpiling art
With care
In both kinds of caves
Like those who aren’t so well-
Obsessed with money
Or better
With a hope for all
The way we might stockpile food
And why not
Against the day
Except for exigent hunger
(there should be enough
for both)
x
Yet if they’re right
We’ll have it all again
Art and food
Anything of profit
By virtue,
Perfect there
And permanent
And with ourselves, perhaps,
Polished and redeemed
As on this side
We sometimes polish
Precious metal with
Satisfaction after
That self-effacing
Might be and become
A shimmering
Evangelism:
Grand art, you see,
And easy,
Arduous science
For both
x
C L Couch
x
x
the verse alludes to Plato’s allegory of the cave
x
the title is a term that is a metaphor for mortal life
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
toward summer sun gods
x
early morning, and
I think
the sun and I
shall track each
other through
the day
x
I slept in fits
and starts but
have blood tests
this morning
(ongoing diagnosis)
and should not
miss them
simply because
I’m tired
x
I’m sure you understand
x
hello, day,
let’s give it a go: a
fourteen-hour
treasure hunt
calling us
toward riding,
running, or pedestrian
pursuits
for pleasure and
for profit
x
then we shall
set
together into night
x
c l couch
x
x
photo by Olya /Voloshka on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
People Need
(we need)
x
Work
And salvation
Food and drink
Both safe
And a revival now and then
Safety itself
And companionship
Light in darkness
Not blinding
Not enigma
Shows the way
Only some direction needed
x
A place to go to sleep
Maybe with others close by
To wake up in a medium
Of security
Here, we call it democracy,
x
Which begs the first
And final matter
That is freedom
That we paid a paradise
To own
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash
A water drinking fountain with water flowing from it | Check out my blog: matthewtrader.com/unsplash
x
Satisfaction
Maybe we’ve done enough
For now
There is an artificial virtue
Made of busyness
It’s plastic in the worst way,
Unmalleable
Activity in, paycheck out
As if that were enough
So we make new virtues
Out of ennui,
What passes for
The watercooler
Probably online
There should be joy in work
In accomplishment
What to say if the jobs
Were never ours
By art or temperament
But we took them, anyway
Because need honestly drives
What we have, we have
And if it’s not satisfaction,
Then we’ll have to
Add it in
Sorry perhaps
But for each there’s a life that’s calling
It isn’t busy
But it can be filled
With oxygen and all kinds
Of proper acquisition
Not to mention better
Satisfaction
Self-defined
Tempered by others
A community whose circle
Is kept porous
For something new
Maybe in companionship
To keep
Or with kindness
To let go
Which is to say
Caprice is never warranted
We are allowed to want
We don’t have to seek
Or keep
In avarice
Protection notwithstanding
(we protect each other),
A life of want and keep
Should be just fine
There’s room for everyone
And everyone deserves a turn
The invitation to speak
Should go all around
The planet
The planet’s big; there are
Resources for it
If a message, aimed at anyone
Because no one is particular,
Says be afraid
Be angry
When there’s no reason
And we have our better things to do
Let’s put it away
Walk on
Find friends
And whatever we have made
And are making
Of homes
Of home,
The better urge for work
C L Couch
Photo by Mike Petrucci on Unsplash
Sun’s Already for a Break
(am I)
It’s later in the morning
Than I like to write
Pre-pre dawn is fine
But I was going through some
Things
Last night and couldn’t resist
A few more boxes first thing this
Morning—proof I don’t know how
To live
I found some old course papers
Kept a few, since I’ve discovered
Sometimes schools really want
To see such things
Kept some student work beside, because
It was good
I notice I’m breathing
A little more, now
Now I’ve had a chance to lift and sort
Keep and throw out
Pleased to have thrown out things
A few less boxes from the office
Or the office
Or the cubicle
I’m here now, and what I do is
Here for now
Well, I know
I’ll probably like the coffee
C L Couch
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
Lessons
Simple, elegant verse about God
Jesus loves me, this I know
For the Bible tells me so
But I want it on my own, from my
Own words and thoughts and sentiments
The strings of my soul
The lines that go from me to you
That must be played
That must be worked
That must be played
C L Couch
sculpture at the EMP Museum in Seattle, Washington
Alex Hendricks – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=39290671
After Words
(Lent 41)
x
There must still be words
We’re stuck with them, I guess
Or at least I am
x
We could end here
Or yesterday
But we won’t,
Which is not a matter of words
As it is of life
x
Yet we should be ready
Now,
To pause when needed
Maybe turn the pause to play
Whatever is called for
x
It’s called for often
Snow day
Day in the sun
Comp time (whoever has this)
Playing hooky
(you can look it up)
x
Work will resume
With its kind of
Awareness, learning, deciding
Not in cryptic ways
Or inaccessible
Though recall that there’s a mystery
In pretty much everything
x
The kind that moves a martyr’s heart
And for other reasons, too, can thrill the heart
Of each of us
Of the sort like
Joan, Priscilla, Rachel, Esther
Judith, Hrosvitha, and Hildegard
Who found their way with God
While in the world
x
And for the Joans, Priscillas, Rachels, Esthers
Judiths, though I don’t suppose we’ll be
Naming anyone Hildegard or
Hrosvitha for a while
We may
We will
x
I don’t know, I think we’ll find
What we need
As long as we don’t keep the process to ourselves
Or the results
x
Anyway,
I thought I should say something once it’s all over,
Our Lenten experience
We’re comingling times and traditions
Of the end of Lent (for those still counting),
The Passion, the Triduum, then
Easter and the Easter season
x
I pray
Together and apart
These are all good for you
The way spring days, clean from rain,
Can be
x
C L Couch
x
note for the blog
Counting forty days from Ash Wednesday takes Lent through Palm Sunday, which might seem odd given the reflective nature of the season maybe abandoned in triumphant celebration. But the count of days in Lent can take out the Sundays and Holy (Maundy) Thursday (when the celebration of the Eucharist occurs) and add in Good Friday and Holy Saturday to make up a count and observation of forty days. Timing of events for the Passion and the Triduum might overlap this way of counting, and it’s also true that some have it (more or less officially, according to one’s tradition) that the length of Lent (even the sense of forty days) be taken metaphorically.
I guess I’m counting forty days from Ash Wednesday and let the paradox of Palm Sunday prevail.
Whew.
x
Photo Credit: Wikimedia User John Morgan CC-BY-2.0
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