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The Magician’s Children

(x = space)

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The Magician’s Children

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Lately,

I’ve been seeing my face

In other faces

I look for a few moments

Sometimes stare

Then realize

I’m looking for

More signs of me

In you

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C L Couch

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Photo by Guillaume Bleyer on Unsplash

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Cell Block

(x = space)

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Cell Block

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I don’t know that I’ve written

Anything

I like

Not that I have to like it

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You have to like it,

That is, with textual

Appreciation

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Or at least give me a break

To read

And then to have

Whatever frank reaction

            If good to tell me,

            If bad to keep it to yourself

            Kidding!

            (mostly)

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I’ve been sitting by myself

Too long

Writing whatever

Looking up pretty pictures, too

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I need to nap

Or go out to buy more coffee filters

One task then the other,

Recommending order

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Later

Rested, filtered

Enjoy a tea time

(coffee time)

Then write some more

Or not

It’s not as if

There’s a contract

Yet

Except with myself, my own

Eccentric terms

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I’m sure you understand

Defining, realizing

Your own discipline

As well

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C L Couch

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Photo by loli Clement on Unsplash

my sister’s coffee

Tigre, Argentina

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When Worlds No Longer Can Collide

(x = space)

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When Worlds No Longer Can Collide

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This is not

What I want

I want the innocence

Without the naivete

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I want

To like the colors

All of them

The rainbow

And the color wheel

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I want

To enjoy

The softness of felt

From the playful

Learning boards

Of childhood

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I want

To be both

Simple and profound

To have some shapes

Some textures

That have meaning

Day to day

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That all of this

Is my philosophy

And if I wear a tie

Or shiny shoes,

No one should care

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But me

And you

With whom I share

The pleasure in the day

In the life

And we have met

Should we meet

Choosing to sip coffee

At a café by the lake

In Switzerland

I have made up

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(made up the café

and your company

not Switzerland that

has been around

for a while

and I’ve never been there)

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I’d like anyone

To get this

For pursuits,

Philosophy

Share in it

In these

Make your own

To have

To offer

Where you imagine

We might meet next

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C L Couch

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When Worlds Collide is a novel by Edwin Balmer and Philip Wylie.  There is a sequel titled After Worlds Collide.  They are science fiction, and I recommend them.

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Photo by Danny Lines on Unsplash

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Qwerty

(x = space)

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Qwerty

(minus w, minus t)

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What do you want of me,

God?

Maybe the next hour

Or tomorrow

Or the moment

That is the only thing

I know for sure

There is

And now the next one

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What is your will

And should I ask?

Maybe I don’t need to

Maybe knowing is for

Greater ones

Than I

The ones for histories

Who rated visions

The certainly

Of steps to take

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I muddle

And you, reading,

Muddle like me

If you’re like me

Maybe it’s easy

There is an easy need

For something

And we move

We save considerations

For contemplation

Conversations

That may never happen

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If a bomb

Should crash this wall

If should be in bed

Because of illness

Then all there is to think about

If thought is clear

Is to survive the time

Allowed

Against sadnesses

Even the world’s evil

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Hunger

Should affect me thus

Or thirst for something safe

Or doubt for faith

Should that be the exchange

For everything vile

That may come upon me

Come upon us

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Since, actually,

I might be moved with

Greater intensity

Should it happen to you

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I shall believe

And ask

Even as confidence fades

That I shall ever know

That you shall ever tell me

What would please you

What would serve you

Not in an epic

But small verses

That could

Make

At least delineate

A life

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C L Couch

while I’m typing

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Photo by Denny Müller on Unsplash

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Stone Soup

(x = space)

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Stone Soup

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I don’t know what to say today

I want you to have a good day

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And for a while

To know good days

And what to do when days are bad

Beyond the dreaming we all do

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So that it’s

What we know to do with what we have

Sometimes that’s hard

And hard to believe we have

I’m poor

I know

Too close to the legacy

Of art and artists

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But I know good people

Am learning to ask

And not gauge heaven by response

Or lack thereof

But to keep trying

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Also allowing expectation

We live

We are entitled to live

I don’t know about evil people

I know so few

You are entitled, too, I suppose

I am not God

And cannot judge as God

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But the many, many, many

Of us who are not evil, not pure good

A mix, you know–

Choose a complementary color

We are colors

We color the world

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And are deserving

You deserve

A good day and another

A whole bunch like bananas

Or corn kernels on the cob

Or other things so many colors

(as I’ve said)

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Anyway,

A wish is not a horse

Or an electric car

And, drat, we have to try

The curse of Adam, some would say

Eve is cursed as well

But curses are not endings

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“We have to make our own way,”

I just heard,

Which is true

And there’s so much more

There’s you

There’s me

And any me or you who happens

To be close to you or me

In distance

Actual

Or relative

(and there’s cyber-),

Which is to say

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A nearness

(actual or relative)

To help make life

One bowl of stone soup

At a time

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C L Couch

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     Stone Soup is a European folk story in which hungry strangers convince the people of a town to each share a small amount of their food in order to make a meal that everyone enjoys, and exists as a moral regarding the value of sharing. In varying traditions, the stone has been replaced with other common inedible objects, and therefore the fable is also known as axe soup, button soup, nail soup, and wood soup.

Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

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Statue of a monk and stone soup (sopa da pedra) in Almeirim, Portugal

By Adriao – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7645719

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Holidazing

(x = space)

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Holidazing

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It’s a tarnish day outside

But I hope you have

A good day

You deserve it

For weathering in every way

The season

(in Australia, it goes to

the other way)

You are being careful, I am sure

With tasks and news

What needs doing

What can wait

And silence in between

When you might

Enjoy the stillness

Like untouched snow

On a hill

Before the sledding noise

Takes over,

Which like Currier and Ives

Will bear

Its own bliss

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C L Couch

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Photo by Tom Dick on Unsplash

(I hope the message on the sign is civil)

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Youse

(x = space)

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Youse

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I should go to sleep

Again

I haven’t tried all night

Enjoying peace, I think

The chance to think my thoughts

Without

Explosions

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I have my coffee

And a couple of French rolls

Outside the window,

The view

Is clear

Well-defined—early morning,

Lack of humidity,

I don’t know

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In this moment

And maybe only this one,

It is a gift

I have been given

The start of day

And brief clarity

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A bite, it’s good

A sip

A thought

Trying to enjoy an easy feeling

Like slow jazz

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I hope you have a good day

I haven’t

Said that for a while

Not that

I don’t think it

Every time I do this

You deserve it

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I don’t know what

Adventures might

Be launched

Or the first steps taken

Unbeknown

Unaware

Not that it’s all romance

It’s not much romance

Really

But I think to throw a coin,

Not knowing where

The nearest designated

Well might be

Inviting you to wish

In the fine day

I hope you have

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Yes, it takes the start of day

Whenever that

Might happen, since it’s

Changeable

Some clarity in

At least two kinds

Of sky

Brief lack of worry over

Food and drink

Now something good

Can begin

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C L Couch

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note

Youse is probably distinctive of my country.  It’s common in the Northeast.  If I were in Pittsburgh and the region there, I might say y’ins.  Apologies.

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youngsters huddling together

Photo by S. H. Gue on Unsplash x

Deal-Making with the Lord

(x = space)

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Deal-Making with the Lord

(sigh, didn’t work for Moses)

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Lord,

The stomach feels

So tight

I’d like relief

Though

Really

At the source

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All my troubles

I can’t escape

Them

Though I could

Escape a few

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And is

Escape the answer?

Probably not

(worse the

luck)

I imagine there is

Something

By the way of

Resolution

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But some things,

I think,

Can simply

Be made better

Call it grace or

Miracle

Or one side

Of a pledge

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Please, Lord,

Ease

The pain

Give me days

Without

The consequences

I’ll work

On the rest,

I promise

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C L Couch

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Photo by Ella de Kross on Unsplash

New York, NY, USA

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Wednesday Diagnosis

(x = space)

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Wednesday Diagnosis

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I’ll see the doctor today

At 2:20

A friend will drive me there

The pain is sharp

And then it’s dull

The dull kind, naturally enough,

Harder for persistence

Making

Night

Difficult and ongoing,

Rest made into

Dreamless chore

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But one thing I have forgotten

In sharing what is going

On with me,

And that is to ask of you

How are you?

What’s happening with you?

I hope that you are well

And having a fine day

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I had a student

Who entered buoyantly

Each Wednesday day,

It’s hump day! she would cry

Each time

And now I think of her

Each time

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C L Couch

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A ball of energy with electricity beaming all over the place.

Photo by HalGatewood.com on Unsplash

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