Back in the saddle again

Ok, so I have been gone for about three months. Facebook is the culprit. It has brought my past, and people I thought long forgotten, slamming into my present. I have been so busy with that I have not taken the time to post. to make up for it I am posting three poems today. And bonus! they are linked thematically. These are all love poems, of one kind or another. I am not claiming they are great love poems, they just are. The oldest one was written in 1988 the most recent in 1998. I am sure I have more recent love poems, if not, I better get to work. Maybe I can steal something from a Valentine's Day card and pass it off as my own. Nahh, bad idea.
Enjoy.

Long Title, Short poem

This is something I don't do very often, but sometimes I just have a very long title. Who knows why, it is just there. I do find it kind of funny that the title has almost as many words as the actual poem. Ah well, it is fun.

To she from someplace, Too special for silence, I must say what you mean to me, I must say who we are, This is our love

Trysting

---Soft piano

------feathered kiss

---------sure embrace

*

Trusting

---Special privilege

------full access

---------secrets revealed

*

Testing

---Storms weathered

------failure faced

---------starting over

*

Toasting

---Striving together

------finishing together

---------succeeding together

*

All of the above----------------------

------Not necessarily in that order

written fall 1998 by Jeff Couch

High School

Ok, the things we write in high school don't count, right? This was a homework assignment and at one time not only did I have this memorized, but I could sing it to you. I could still sing it, believe it or not. I am not sure what I was trying to say, it seems like I was putting all my beliefs into one poem. It is still fun to look back and see what it was like, and remember that young boy. This was one of my first love poems and as awkward as it is, the emotion is true. All I know is it is a little embarrassing to put here, but I thought it was kind of neat for contrast's sake. And yes, they were selling commas (,) a dime a dozen at the discount store that year.

Never Lost, Not Yet Found

Spin me a tale, and I'll sing you a song,
a song of a man and the sea.
Sit down awhile, and I'll kiss you and smile,
'cause with you I'm free to be me.
Your eyes how they glow, your love I know,
is a love that will never end
With you I'm secure, and with you I'm sure,
that in you I have found a true friend

And the world spins all around us,
The tragedy of life,
The peoples and the planets,
Are a portraiture of strife.

Men's thoughts are dulled, the young and the old,
the wise ones too scared to be bold.
The Consumer, he rules, and the old-fashioned duels,
are for the favor of money that's cold.
The armor that shone, is now all gone,
it's the threads that make the man.
The men they all fight, not for wisdom but might,
and to get all the power they can

When the world spins all around me,
It's to you that I retreat,
When inside your comfort,
I find strength to fight, complete.

So we'll reach for the sky, just you and I,
as a unity we will tempt fate.
We'll live forever, always together,
sharing we will be great.
You take the high road, I'll carry your load,
you're the best leader I know.
America's culture is, now an oversized poster,
it'll change back wherever we go.

And the world spins under us,
For we will conquer all,
In the arms of our love,
We can never fall.

So, spin me a tale, and I'll sing you a song,
a song of and old man and the sea.
The man he is lonely, his friends the sea only,
it's clear I speak of you and me.
In this whole verse, I've told of an old curse,
a tale the world always knew.
I long for the day, I'll look up and see,
standing beside me there you.

And the world spins over me,
Held in image tyranny,
When I find my true love,
We will be complete.

I know you are looking, it's true I am searching,
for the other half of our soul.
I'll try not to use you, I'll never abuse you,
for in each other we are made whole.
Now this is your tale, and this is my song,
a song of what someday will be.
You'll be my princess, and I'll be your prince,
may ever after we live happily.

written by Jeff Couch, fall of 1988

I Propose

This was written a very long time ago. It is interesting how a point of view can change over time. This was a very special poem with a very special purpose. And that is all I have to say about that.

Proponere

Will you walk with me 'neath the moonlit skies
Take time to ponder the wonder whys
Will you sit with me as the clouds rush by
And be happy

Will you watch as the rain pours down the windows
by my side
Will you listen as I softly whisper
I'll sweetly confide

Will you stand with me as the thunder roars
Abide with me in the hurricane night
Will you fearlessly face the rolling storm
Imovable

Will you speak, true and tender words I never heard before
comfort me
Will you brush away the tears of my heartcry
so very tenderly

Will you allow me to uphold you in my arms
To cherish and care and keep from all harm
Will you follow the path in me Spirit-born
And be loved

Will you quietly consider the vision in my eyes
and give in
Will you persistently bellow my faults in my ear
to keep us from sin

Will you consent, until that time,
of joyous leavetaking, either rapture or death
To be one with me in thought, action, and breath
To follow after the Scripture's guide
Will you be my bride
So that, what God has joined let no man sever
'Til eternity begins I'll love you forever

written by Jeff Couch, November 1992

New Features

If you notice over there on the right I have a couple of new features. If you have an RSS reader there is an RSS feed. If you would rather get updates via email, well, you can do that too. Also, drop off a comment and let me know what you think.

Having Fun

I am having fun posting these poems here. If my stats mean anything, not a whole lot of people are reading them, but that's ok. If you are reading them, please post a comment somewhere on here to let me know you have been here. Just to fulfill my curiosity.
This poem has one of those etymological titles I talked about a few months ago. It is a poem that I enjoy very much. I especially like the way it sounds and I really enjoy performing it. It starts out slow and quiet, speeds up and gets louder in the middle, then slows and quiets again. Maybe someday I will begin putting mp3 clips of me performing these poems on here. That would be fun.
I am enjoying posting so much, I might put another one on here this month. Lucky you. lol Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Ototeman

Cold, wet, greasy ashes
Lifeless they lie
Like a dark winter's sky
Death without hope or desire
Dank betrayal of the promise of fire
And the wind scattering, it blows

Brief glimmer in orange

And the wind chittering, it blows

Flakes of gray peel away

And the wind patiently, it blows

Sparks twinkle in defiance

And the wind challenging, it blows

Fire wings, cupping, flexing with life
Grasping the air, shaking off dust
Shimmering, crashing, blazing
A burning beak arises
Cries with the knowledge of Eternity
Leaps, exploding, soaring, alive
And the wind encouraging, it blows

Celebration illuminates the ebony night

And the wind excitingly, it blows

Flying, inspiring, searing hearts and minds

And the wind joyously it blows

Rocketing, plummeting with creative delight

And the wind ecstatically, it blows

Salamanders dart through the flickerings
Dashing, scurrying with purpose and care
Storing the treasure away from the air
The flames begin to sputter at the crash site
The pyre logs piled altar height
Whoosh of explosive kindling
Piercing, blinding, brilliance, bright
Dark afterimages play across the soul
And the wind quietly, it blows

Individual flarings sputter in dismay

And the wind coldly, it blows

Fluttering bravely, futilely

And the wind solemnly, it blows

Absolute darkness, not a hint of illumination

And the wind inexorably. it blows

Cold, wet, greasy ashes

And the wind knowingly, it blows

written by Jeff Couch 1995

Widownet

I wanted to say a couple of words about Widownet. I found this place in 1997 after the passing of my wife. I posted most of my poems from that period of time to the Widownet. It is only through the strength of the people I met there that helped me through that most difficult time, that I made it. If you have lost a spouse or fiancee, please go there. They can help. I also met Lisa, my wife, on Widownet. There is always a silver lining.

Widownet.org

June 15th, Father's Day

Well, I have been leading up to it for several months now, and it's time to face the facts. There was a period in my life when I was fairly prolific and it centered around Father's Day, 1997. On that day my wife, Sandy, died from a heart problem that a month before we didn't even know she had. Needless to say that made a serious impression on me, that still shows up in my writing to this day (see last month's poem). The truth is, I am happily married to my second wife, Lisa, and have two wonderful children. But if I am going to cover the breadth of my poetry, some of the work from this period must come out. There is some really good stuff here or, at least some truly raw emotion.
I have decided to post two poems this month, and then move on to other things next month. The first is untitled and was written over a month after she passed away. The second one was the first poem I wrote after she died, and is one of my favorites from that time period. I have a couple of other favorites that will show up eventually. The poem-eulogy is something I have become adept at. Please enjoy, if that isn't too morbid a thing to say.

08/20/97

Never understood why you never got better
Never could see why it had to be you
I remember the way you used to suffer
The fire that burned struggled to glow through

I remember the end how it just got darker
How slowly you faded away from me
How I would've given anything
To have you the way you used to be

I talked to you and you said, "I'm scared"
You said, "I really don't want to be here,
I'm miserable and all the nurses are mean,
I just want to go home."

Are you happy now?
I hope so.
Does the light shine brightly in your soul?
As you stare in the face of heaven
Do you finally know what it is to be whole?

Are you crying now,
The way you used to,
When you were so happy you simply beamed?
When joy was a radiant sunset
that glowed round your slate blue seas.

I miss those eyes and cheeks and tears.
Those stormy nights and joyous dawns.
I need a glimpse and breath of you
To travel this ocean I'm on

Are you happy now?
I hope so
I hope you are aching with smiles
I hope your laughter deafens the angels
And sweetens the ears of a child

Are you missing me?
I hope not
I hope you're too happy to see
The hurt that wells up inside me
Let nothing keep you from being finally free

If all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, than my wish at last came true.
I guess all I really wanted was, to be there when you were happy too.

Memories will allow
For healing to flow
As long as I know
Are you happy now?

written by Jeff Couch 08/20/97

Commencement

It started with goldfish, the cheese flavored kind
I threw them and she laughed at that strange mixed-up guy
She gave me a nick-name and we grew to be friends
We pondered the mysteries of the world without end

Until one day it dawned on me
Was she the subject of my poetry
Those flowery verse written to true love not yet met
The anguished choruses of where my desires were set

And so...
We began

It started under an oak tree, with snow falling lightly
I proposed with a poem and she started crying
I said, "Well what's your answer?" and she said, "It's yes silly"
We embraced as the breeze blew brisk and chilly

Until one day standing before God
I promised forever and He made us one
Something not just a pageant but a melding true
Where two equals one and one are still two

And so...
We began

It started with a peace, the God-given kind
As our naive, trembling hearts weathered storming times
She never stopped giving, or loving or blessing
We took every day and reveled in being married

Until one day she had to leave
She laid there quiet, I watched for her to breathe
The time was perfect, the hand steady and sure
As the glory of all eternity opened up and welcomed her

And so...
She began

written by Jeff Couch 07/25/97

Fresh Off The Presses

I was listening to some music I like and I had the idea to write a story song from the third person point of view. Most of my stuff is first person, and there are very few stories, so I thought this would be a good change of pace. I toiled furiously for about an hour and a half and came up with this, the music still playing in my head. Too bad my instrument skills are so rudimentary or you could too have the music playing in your head. You'll just have to supply your own. This poem introduces a topic we will be going into much more detail next month. I just finished writing it, so here it is, the steam still rising, the icing still gooey. it will probably be changed over time and maybe get a new title, but for now, enjoy.

John Thompson's Ghost

John Thompson fell in love one day
and though he tried to run away
he could not escape
Their laughter echoed through the halls
with tears and hope they conquered all
learning day by day

And so she stepped out of the door
"Gone an hour, maybe more
I'll be back in no time."
He hears the shouts from in the street
the sound of desperate running feet
Police say there's no crime

John Thompson
looks up with sightless eyes dribbling tears
John Thompson
dreads all the sleepless nights stretching through years
John Thompson
says "If You're God and You really care
Then how did
John Thompson
find himself ending up here?"

Despondent in these basement rooms
a sense of emptiness and gloom
so empty and yet so small
Shoulders back and head held high
"Why did she have to die!"
it echoes against the wall

John Thompson
Can't seem to see how he'll ever go on
John Thompson
Asks what he did, where did he go wrong
John Thompson
says "If You're God and You really care
then how did
John Thompson
find himself ending up here?"

And he's heard all the words that say
God knows a better way
He's heard all the words
And he's seen all the days and hours
when miracles sprout like flowers
He's seen all the hours

John Thompson rides the endless waves
the emotion crashes down and fades
time slowly marches by
He makes new friends and loves again
there are even some days when
he forgets to ask why

John Thompson
knows there's a plan that is larger than he
John Thompson
knows in his heart he truly believes
John Thompson
knows that You're God and You really care
but how can
John Thompson
trust you won't do it again

written by Jeff Couch 05/03/2008 5:24 am

Poem 1 for Therapy

If you read this poem and understand it, please contact me with your psychoanalysis. This was written when I was seeing a counselor and I just started writing it without a lot of thought or direction, a bit of a freestyle. This little story came up. It means so little and yet so much can be read into it. It might help you know that I once lived in the Canary Islands, and that three years earlier I had lost someone really close to me. I have always admired Shel Silverstein and I like to think this poem is a bit of an homage to him. It is not a style I have written a lot in, but somehow this poem is whimsical and deeply disturbing at the same time. When I read it I laugh and cry bitter tears and feel alienated and scared and lonely and desperate all at the same time. I find it quite an effective little piece. By the way, if you happen to find my bird please contact me.

Canary Isolations

I lost the Canary
I really don't know how
It just got away
What do I do now?

Did it fly the coop
and flitter out the door?
Or did it squeeze through cell bars
and sneak down to the floor

I lost the Canary
I had an awful fright
Slipped down to the kitchen
Tripped the 'lectric light
Looked above the table
clearly I could see...
A book, a match, some candle wax
And an empty cage glarin' at me

There it hangs from its hook
with nary a tweet or a twitter
Door shut tight, and oh, it glows
Iron bars painted gold and aglitter

I lost the Canary
I don't know when
It was here when I went to bed
Not when I came back again

I fed it good food
gave it good pats
played with it daily
saved it from cats

I know what will happen
They'll come home in a rage
blame me for everything
Now I'm the one in the cage

Maybe if I sit here
with my bowl full of snacks
wait real quietly
I can lure it back

But my neck is getting achy
and the bars cramp my spine
My knees bump my teeth
Other than that I'm fine

I lost the Canary
I hope it returns
I'll give it nothing but presents
and fat juicy worms

It used to sit on my shoulder
peck my head with little kisses
The truth,if it be known,
Is I'm really going to miss it

My heart hurts with aching
My eyes are all weepy
So I'll wait in this cage
Until you come back Canary

Oh why did I lose the Canary
Oh why, why, why, why
Gonna wait right here
'Til I die, die, die, die

It's getting kinda dark now
And frankly kinda scary
But I'm gonna wait in this cage
'til you come back Canary

written 7/15/00 by Jeff Couch

Isaiah 6:6-7

This poem reminds me of a Bible passage. It starts out as just a time of rest and admiring the beauty around me. Then it becomes an encounter, the ultimate Encounter. And after the trauma, I am left changed. This is the truth of the subject of the poem, found both in the moonlight and the fire. The refrain leaps off my tongue and gets stuck in my mind. I wrote this poem a long time ago and I still like it. Enjoy.

The Approach

It is awfully quiet tonight
The sunlight on the calm still lake
is bright and beautiful

In the silence my heart alights
To glide on gossamer wings
so bright and beautiful

Rise toward the setting sun
Warmth ripples down to heal my heart
to bright and beautiful

I close my eyes open my arms
Closer approach the warm embrace
wonderful, bright and beautiful

Warm wax drips down my back
silkily feathers slip away
into the bright and beautiful

Sheer terror washes over me
Waxen horror twisting bleed
the consuming bright and beautiful

How dare I approach on manmade wings
My flesh crinkles as my spirit pleads,
"Mercy, oh Bright and Beautiful"

As spark passes from my mind
Breath burnt for every lie
this is The Bright and Beautiful

Someone covers, clutches, catches
Soothes and touches with warm caresses
heals from The Bright and Beautiful

Gently laid on cool sweet lake
Rocked asleep, softly wake
wake to The Bright and Beautiful

This is gentle love, this caring hand
Consuming fire, searing, pure being
He is the Bright and Beautiful

In the awestruck silence of tonight
the moonlight on the calm still lake
reflects The Bright and Beautiful

written 9/7/1997 by Jeff Couch

Speaking of Structure

I did not intend for this poem to have the structure it ended up having. I am sure I studied this in English Lit. somewhere and it sat in the back of my mind. Frankly, it was a lot of fun and the way it wrapped up at the end was surprising. I thoroughly enjoyed this poem and really like what it has to say. This is the joy of poetry to me, how often I am surprised by what I see on the page before me. It is like finding a letter in the mail, written for you, by someone that understands you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Baby steps

Do not catch me if I fall
I would never learn to stand
Do not stop me when I crawl
I will never learn to run

I would never learn to stand
Face the world with loving grace
I will never learn to run
Race the wind to set my pace

Face the world with loving grace
Giving, sharing truths as learned
Race the wind to set my pace
Laughter ringing as bright I burn

Giving, sharing truths as learned
Learning more from each mistake
Laughter ringing as bright I burn
Trying not to lose my way

Learning more from each mistake
Fall yet to rise again
Trying not to lose my way
Crawl back where I began

Fall yet to rise again
Do not catch me when I fall
Crawl back where I began
Do not stop me when I crawl

written 2006 - 2007 by Jeff Couch

Structure

Usually I don't force my poems into any set structure, it just kind of happens. It is fun, however, to pick a rigid structure and try to tell a story or convey an emotion within it. I heard about the Fibonacci sequence and poems based on it and just had to try one. The Fibonacci sequence is like this (0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,55,...) The way it works is that you take the previous two numbers in the sequence and add them together to get your new number. So 1+1=2, 2+1=3, 3+2=5, etc. I heard about poems that used the sequence to create the number of syllables in each line. I thought that was a great idea and wrote a poem taking it as far as I could. The challenge was immensely entertaining. I later found out that the 'official" Fibonacci poems were shorter, like haiku, with the maximum syllable length being, I think, 5 syllables. Frankly I think my way is more fun, just how many syllables can you take it to before it becomes too unwieldy. It this poem I maxed out at 55.

About the poem itself. I love the winters here in Colorado. This is part of my drive home.

Heading Home

.
Cold
Snow
Wet Road
Slippery
Icy and Bitter
Push on through, I'm no quitter
The wind herds the snow in vibrant patterns through the night
Skittering, scampering, rippling back and around, side to side in furious flight
Soft, warm glow shrouded and hidden bravely struggles against the blur,
...melting a hearthy sphere through muted cotton high above the
...darkened street
Our neighborhood sits like a small village in some old fashioned movie,
...shot in black and white by an idealistic director in classic Hollywood style,
...with saintly hero and sinister villain clashing mightily
The sad story builds towards the climactic scene where good conquers
...evil gently, leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling that covers me from head to feet
Silence lies deep over the resting houses as if in quiet anticipation
Each one relaxed but tensed with barely subdued action
Still as death yet surely alive
Slowly I arrive
Finally
Welcome
I'm
Home
.

written Jan-May 2007 by Jeff Couch

Where Have I Been?

I know there isn't really anyone out there that is following this blog, however I just wanted to say, sorry for being away for so long. I will be posting three poems to catch up. Thanks for your patience.