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