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June 2022

3 poems for summer solstice

(x = space)

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3 poems for summer solstice

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Merry July

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Solstice

It’s summer now

Summer weather smacks us

Here

Temps aiming for 90

I guess in Australia

New Zealand

New Guinea

Little America

Winter is begun

Throw logs on the fire

Sing winter carols

Withholding Christmas and

The other holidays

‘Til the start of summer

In December

Christmas in July

A custom mostly mercantile

In the north

Could be the real thing

With trees and

Were it high enough

Some snow

Ornaments and lights

Certainly

Merry Christmas in

Alice Springs

Wellington

Tierre del Fuego

On the Falklands

At the southern pole

Santa’s summer home

Like winter

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Intentions

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God, what shall I

Say to you?

I worship you

In contemporary ways

I’m sorry for sins

You have seen in me

And known for centuries

I thank you for your presence

Having made all good things

And the ways to deal

With the bad

I ask of you

To welcome home

Those who die

And heal those who live

Cure cancer

End war

Well, I can ask

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Siblinghood

x

It’s like science fiction

Slipping out of time

Our of normalcy

Eating meals on time

Cleaning on a schedule

Ingrained expectations

Instinctive, conditioned

Responses

x

To fall outside of these

To live with fewer clothes

To hope for decent meals

In penury,

To dream of trips

But only travel like Thoreau

Walking to and from

The town

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Everything else happens

On the inside

How sad this is

At least how strange

But there’s a purpose

Those who fall outside

Will look back

And when not wistful

Will prophecy

In art

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C L Couch

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Saint John’s (Midsummer) Fire at Dragør Beach (Denmark)

XSimon, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53634435

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So Much on One Day

(x = space)

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So Much on One Day

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Yesterday was

Father’s Day

Juneteenth

Corpus Christi

My

The body of Christ

Evidenced

Manifest

In Eucharist

This is important

This is my body

Christ said to disciples

This is my blood

Do this in remembrance of me

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A priest once explained to me

That the change is not molecular

That substance

To the medieval minds

To the makers of the doctrine

Did not mean flesh

As in meat

But substance as in essence

As in presence

Belief and purpose

Inside, all around

x

These were believers

And philosophers

Not alchemists

(so much)

x

The reason for the bread and wine

Is changed

Our reason to be there in the moment

With a bell

Is changed from bread and wine

To faith

And even penitence

The salvation of the world

At hand

And hand outside as well

As inside we take and ingest

And move with nourishment

Into the world,

After

x

A professor told us

Once in class

Of her being in line

At a holy place in western Asia

Then in

Chatting about faith

With a stranger there—she

Was asked

(if not told)

Are not you Christians cannibals?

You believe in consuming

Flesh and blood

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And my prof remembered

As I remember

With remembrance

The details and essence of

Her story

x

And is there physicality?

Yes, I think so

Bread, wine

And there is more

And the bell changes things

Things are changed in substance

For the better

Christ isn’t changed

Bread, wine

We are

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C L Couch

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Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

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Father

(x = space)

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Father

x

As in the fathers who are there

Who show up

Who have been there from the beginning

And those who are not there

Who left

Who might return

Might be changed

Might stay

And that be good

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God is father

God is mother

Jesus is the child

Fully grown and forever

The Spirit is inside

As well as moving

Through the world

Through the cosmos

A crazy family

Three in one

And one

But in each

And altogether

We have our learning

Our understanding

And our living

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Reasons and purposes

Wills and resolves

Choices

Actions

Parents are good at actions

Fathers are adept

At doing something

When they would do something

And they do something

Often

x

They act

They build

They love

The best ones listen

The best ones speak

Knowing with whom they speak

Skills vary

Loving intent doesn’t have to

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A father is remarkable

A mother is remarkable

A family

Is remarkable

Even though

There are so many

Constructed, reconstructed

Precious not for diamond absence

But for the abundance of love

We reach in

We reach out

We share

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Fathers do this

In the USA, this is their day

God bless fathers

Fathers turn to God

They may turn to each other

Turn more so to their partners

To their charges

And their charge

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Amen

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C L Couch

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Photo by Federico Di Dio photography on Unsplash

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Thoughts on Solstices

(x = space)

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Thoughts on Solstices

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I don’t know why the dying year

Is appealing

Maybe because we know

That dying isn’t death

And we contemplate the process

And be glad when the reversal

Starts

Like knowing that our skin cells die

Then are replaced

It is a cycle we can contemplate

As well

x

The Earth will start to turn

To favor night,

Which will take six months or so

The zenith with the sun

In the north

Is June

The nadir in December

If we have fires now

(because it’s June),

They will be for celebration

The fires in December

Are made with archetypal fear

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The easy fires will be back

We’ll cook on them

Not worry what they’re

Driving away

(the winter subjects)

And what they attract

Except for insects

That, though they are numerous,

Have cycles so much shorter than

The ones we own

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C L Couch

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Photo by Kenrick Mills on Unsplash

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An Era of Juneteenth

(x = space)

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An Era of Juneteenth

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1865

Galveston

They didn’t know

They know now

I imagine it’s a day

Somehow slid

Between the nineteenth

And twentieth

Though it’s not

And around here

It’s a week-long celebration

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When I see it

I think of youth

Because teen’s in the word

I suppose

And June

The month that starts

The summer

It should be a youthful celebration

Encouraging the present

And the future

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I hope it’s a good day

Where you are

A day as in twenty-four hours

And also an age

A day of freedom

A day of getting back

And giving back

To have one’s own

To own it

For the present

For the future

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C L Couch

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Photo by Joice Kelly on Unsplash

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Storied

(x = space)

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Storied

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You know

The living parable

It actually happened

When soldiers

Were given leave

To drink

From a nearby stream

And some lay down

Their weapons

While prostrate

Lapped the water

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These were sent home

x

Some knelt

By the water

Clutching weapons in one hand

While with the other

Reaching down to cup the water

Sipped while keeping watch

Around

x

These were kept

For the coming battle

x

I often think of this

From Sunday School

And cup the water

When I can

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C L Couch

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Photo by Sam Dellaporta on Unsplash

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Epoch

(x = space)

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Epoch

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We have war

We have pandemic

We shoot each other

And we shoot

Our children

Children shooting

Children, too

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These are the facts

When we believed

Ourselves good

In gray

And black and white

Were such

Things happening

As well?

Maybe

Maybe so

We did our best

To hide the war

In Korea

x

And our children

Were growing smart

Naturally asking

Questions

Our parents did not know

How to answer

x

Things began

To fall apart

The marriage rate

Fashions

Belief in government

And other agencies

Belief in church

x

Discovered were

All kinds of prisoners

Who wanted

To be free

It was a white world

It had to be injected

With more color

With more style

With more freedom

x

The war ended

Followed by

A worse one

We killed our youth

Did not fight well

And lost

The victories in the ‘80s

Took on an absurd

Significance

We conquered Grenada

The UK kept the

Falklands from

The mainland nation

We hid

From ourselves

What the CIA was doing

We were supposed

To believe

x

Not that the Soviets

Fared better

They lost in Afghanistan

And later

Lost the wall

x

So here we are

Not born

To be kings, as Queen

Asserts for

Highlanders

We’re simply here

And want our lives

And in relationships

And to trust our

Communities enough

Some buy guns

Or drugs

To have it so

Some lead hidden lives

That in the light

Of day could cope

Though illumination’s

Out of fashion

Left in the scriptoria

Of centuries ago

Or kept in colonies

In eastern Asia

Southern Asia

And there are monastics

Here and there

Not nearly so many

x

Secretly,

We praise our obfuscation

Slaps on the backs

For leadership

That will not abrogate

No way

Volunteer

Self-funded terms

Term-limited

x

And what is hidden

Behind doors

And what if the

Angels

Were assigned

To take all the doors

Away?

x

There is a planet

Though we

Melt the ice

Suffer in greater heat

Wondering what

Happened

To the media

Our hilltops long ago

Surrendered trees

To acid rain

Well, at least

Not so many

Rivers catch on fire

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There is our place

In the cosmos,

The physicality

Social arrangements

Away from here

And maybe

On the way

Can you imagine?

What will we say

Our part has been

With regard

To respectability

Of suns and planets

And our

Sibling people?

x

Well, we’ll have to answer

Otherwise

Gort might have its way

Though if the visitors

Go unreined

Then we’ll have

New problems

x

We have a chance

It’s not last call

I’m not sure

Who calls that

In layers or in rounds

We might still

Have a say in that

But we’ll have to

Behave

Restrain and moderate

Practice then employ

The love we could have

For each other

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C L Couch

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Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

I used a cut-open plastic bottle to pour the paint.  First black, then the cold, then the warm 🙂

[note by P. C.]

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Un-Beware the Ides

(x = space)

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Un-Beware the Ides

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It’s Wednesday

Ides of June

Somewhere in the day

There’s a needle moment

That separates

The first half

Of thirty days

From the other

What we’ve had

From what happens next

x

Every month

Has an ides

It’s the one from March

That’s famous

At any rate,

Here we are

Halfway

And I can hope

And do

That whatever the first

Half of June

Brought for you

That the second part

Is good,

Even delightful

Brimmed with hope

Spiced with pleasure

Itself the present moment

That’s what matters

Yet become a second hope

As a sign of things

To come

Maybe into the next month

With its ides

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Or shall I say

May I say,

Happy the

Rest of June

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Fondly for

Family, friends,

And strangers,

Christopher

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C L Couch

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Photo by Y S on Unsplash

Half Dome, Yosemite National Park, California USA

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Flag Day 2022

(x = space)

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Flag Day 2022

(for everyone)

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I am thankful to be an American

And hope you are thankful

For your nations

We can’t love them because they’re fair

Without acknowledging

The ugliness

Even as we might want to change

Corruption and injustice

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There are small victories

We might have taken part in

Or might

Someday

x

Someday our nations might be perfect

Not if we stand against each other

In the nation

Nation against nation

A nation is defined by how it lives

How it saves

Then how it waves

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With ready refusal to

Participate in Armageddon

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C L Couch

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Flag Day in the USA is 14 June.

“I Am Thankful to Be an American” is a song.  I think of it when I think of Flag Day.

Photo by Samuel Branch on Unsplash

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