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Month

August 2023

Draft Day without the NFL

(x = space)

x

x

Draft Day without the NFL

x

I can’t find anything acceptable

Above

You know I mean my manuscripts

Don’t you

x

I’m trying

And I try myself

To write without the thought

The king pines for

And doesn’t have

To send his words to heaven

x

My I should borrow

Boudica’s war cry

If not

The rebel yell

Or simply howl

Like wolves

And you know

Ginsberg

x

Or dive into the wreck

With Rich

Anthologized

With Aunt Jennifer

x

While watching episodes

In which

The inspector always fall

For someone ingenue

Yet capable

Each time

Every hour

Even in cast changes

x

Do we get the devices

Or is this the sponsor’s guess

About our

Expectations

x

Like the result

In the surveys of

Romance readers

Who require

It turns out

Set things for happy reading

Bodice-ripping by page 80

Some such

x

And there is happiness in this

And they buy books and

Configure ratings

While I have nothing

To select

From selections

No satisfaction from the drafting

Of the several things above

x

Are they on wings

Perhaps

Above what is above

A teasing presence

Not meant

To be

And not in fact

I’m simply frustrated

I haven’t invented

Iliads and odysseys

Today

Not yet

x

Ask a saint

Pray on the splinter

Of a bone

Or ask the Lord

Herself

To have a angel

Whisper

Wait

That would be cheating

It would be

Yes

I don’t have to ask

I ask

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Alexander Zvir on Unsplash

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Around

(x = space)

x

x

Around

x

I keep thinking of God

By that spring

Of water

That typically looks blue

Though sometimes clear

Showing all the

Pristine things below

Rocks and fish

You know

The lying and the creeping things

x

God offers

Some to share

For thirst requires

First attention

There is no speaking

There is no clear thinking

‘Til the molecules

Have

Cool and oxygen

Through water

Then we may talk

x

God looks a person there

And still

What might I

I

Have to say

To God?

x

There is no altar

For obeisance

And a sacrifice

No worship

As there is no priest or choir

Anyway

Nothing of a temple

Or a church

x

It is we two

A spring

A living tree looks over

Green and perfect flowers

I wonder

How long I might be there

Sit there

(slaked)

Trying out one script and then other

Out of my head

Over my tongue

And yet hello

Croaked upon arrival

Before drinking

Is on the line

And nothing over

x

God will speak

Of course

To say the perfect thing

To try my tears

Now that I have water inside

Or press joy

Upon the mind

Maybe to evoke

Those kinds of tears

The happiness

Companionship

A now

x

And I cannot worry

About how long

There is a forever

In this moment

And what might come after

Is conditional

Subjunctive

Doubts that do not matter

Suponemos

(we suppose)

Suponíamos

Supondríamos

x

I should not wonder

For in this encounter

Is enough

Is wonder

For eternity

All I can bear

There

And now

x

God

Does this

There is your own place

That might be the same

And there might be numbers

One

Two

Five thousand needing food

Two upon a cross

Or all the slaves crucified

For wanting to believe

We can be free

x

All shall come

All shall arrive

God shall welcome

With cool water

And-or

Whatever might be needed

A nosh

A deck of cards

(for Rook)

Play

Play for work

And then to let them go

x

The stream

Or what we need

For this place

Remains

A place to meet the Lord

Where the Lord is always waiting

(angels attending)

‘Til we come ‘round

Whatever has been bending us

From clarity

Eternity

A drink with God

Some words

Enough to save

To secure what we have believed

Or identify what we have not

To keep the good

Let go the rest

As service to the Lord

And the peaceful

The dynamic

Plains and courts

Skies and outer space

Transomed

With transparent streets

To clarity

The dark let go

Except in perfect shadows

x

All of which to say

We meet the Lord

Or don’t

But there is waiting for us

And it’s delight

In faith

And comfort for the ragged

Parts

From life

From confusion

By the barbarous

Now we turn

Now here we are

Hello

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash

x

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Kg

(x = space)

x

x

Kg

x

Everyone has

Secrets

I suppose

Given time

I have mine

They feel lonely

Though I imagine

There are always

Other people

At least

The other ones

Affected

x

But it feels lonely

All the same

And even though

They might

Go back

They feel aged

As if I could only

Have such things

When I

Am old

Or as any

Age this way

With more time

For wondering

x

The circumstances

Have passed

Mostly long ago

And that’s something

Maybe an ingredient

For

A recipe

For eating isolation

x

Enticed

To tell

Is an easier thing

To forego

Some weariness

In life

Makes it so

x

That I

Don’t want to

Realize the energy

And

All the pain up high

Again

And then

As it drops through

Me

x

Maybe

Rolling then

Sliding

To the deep and

As you know

The darker parts

Of Freudian-

Or Jungian-

Chemicaled water

To push through

Or tread

In bouts

For endurance

Again

x

I will say this

That

When reminded

What I carry

That I could lose

All secrets

In the light

And lose

All these

Damnable burdens

Sounds pretty good

Sounds pretty

Light

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Frank Zhang on Unsplash

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2 poems—a dragon and the presence of the Lord

(x = space)

x

x

2 poems—a dragon and the presence of the Lord

x

x

A Dragon Calls

x

Sigh

A dragon calls

With a harness

For a human

And a land

To fly me to

Or bring me back

As I might choose

x

Thank you

Dragon

I’m sorry if I can’t

Pronounce your name

Though I think it time

To say yes

And fly away

x

A wizard might arrive

With a great horse

On the porch

Though that is the final story

For another day

x

x

In the Presence of the Lord

x

I’m thinking spiritual

The presence is

Well

Everywhere

I’d like to think

Imbued in everything

x

But after making

And our due to credit

The rock does not have you in it

Though the storm

However much we feel

The preternatural push

x

I might find you

In the molecule

Or on the comet

Inside Leviathan

Or in the upholstery

Of the seat

Next to mine

On the plane

x

But that’s because

You are in my own

And everyone’s

You make it

And your own it

And you lend it

x

And inside the nucleus

You are there

In each one

You are there

Not a pantheistic impulse

But to say here’s love

In each particle

Sub-particle

Don’t miss it

x

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Laith Abushaar on Unsplash

x

1

Eighth

(x = space)

x

x

Eighth

x

Remember August

Starts in gold

And ends

Overlapping

With the wind

x

The next month is seven

Prior for the emperor

Who never was

And was the first

x

Ten months

And we have twelve

The ones we know

Who count the calendar

Finally

The pope’s way

x

But each month

Has a treasure

In its story

x

This month starts in gold

And ends with

Windy promises

In these parts

Of autumn

x

Unique

What happens

In your days

Divide them up

And celebrate

The units

In your month

And what I hope is your

Many-monthed story

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash

x

1

all of us

(x = space)

x

x

all of us

x

God loves us

don’t forget

never mind classic

four spiritual laws

there are hundreds

and there are

only two

love God

and each other

x

and try live in peace

one planet

after all

one set of resources

one people

other species

ready to take over

should we fail

x

eschew greed

its systems

destroy everyone

no one escapes

outside

its paradigm

anyone left

who escapes

theft and hoarding

is a victim

x

is there a war

outside the Earth?

who knows

we’ll find out

no need to rehearse it

here

the war in heaven

or inside the cosmos

might be timed

to be our own

once we know

what it is

to have a world of joy

joyful accomplishment

practical

at peace

x

accomplish these few things

and the world

among the worlds

has a chance

before

heaven’s disposition

and ending to its war

on our plain

x

try joy

try pleasure without consequence

not an invention

a relative impossibility

but touch

the sacred

the proper and the wild

(chronos and kairos)

because the sacred’s there

and we may have it

even in

the smaller

simpler things

x

and as a world

rise to affirm

the glory of the Lord

that we don’t make

but finds us

when we’re good

when we’re complete

when we’re sanctified

agreeing

that the better parts of heaven

should be explicit

on the Earth

x

love God

love each other

that’s really all there is

these two

the starting point

the terminus

and all we need to know

x

c l couch

x

x

Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash

x

1

The Flying Mouse

(x = space)

x

x

The Flying Mouse

x

It’s supposed to be

Hot today

The next two days better

Maybe I’ll stay in the dark

Enjoy the cool

If only the idea

Of shadows

x

Why do bats like

The night?

Clearer for navigation?

The flying mouse

(the fledermaus)

Small and fast

They startle us

Though I doubt

Each other

x

We should be on

The side of bats

Peer mammals

Who eat lesser (sorry)

Things

We would more rather

Not have around

And so be less infested

Thank you

Stellaluna

x

It’s supposed to be hot

Today

I’ll think I’ll stay inside

In the dark

Light up this screen alone

In bouts

To keep some strain

Off my eyes

The ones that see

The ears that hear

That taste

You know

The doctrine

Taste and see

x

They have wings

And are we jealous?

I hope not

It’s not their fault

And they fly

With small glories

To the Lord

x

C L Couch

x

x

Stellaluna (moonstar?) is a story by Janell Cannon.

x

Photo by René Riegal on Unsplash

x

I started out begrudgingly, more of an exercise.  Then as I got into it, I liked it more.  I enjoyed drafting and revising this.  And I like the image from Australia.  You, of course, don’t have to like any of it.  I’ll still think highly of you.

x

2

women’s Bible study

(x = space)

x

x

women’s Bible study

x

I should mention the women

Eve

Rebecca

Rachel

Sarah

Miriam

Jezebel

Ruth

Esther

Judith

(whom for strength

perhaps

the Protestants

excoriate)

Susanna

Mary

Elizabeth

the woman at table

the woman at the well

(without a name)

the woman in adultery

(without the man)

Mary

Martha

Mary

Mary

Sapporah

Priscilla

the women in

the final revelation

x

they shouldn’t have to be a block

a ledger of names

and credits after

though we treat the men the same

and maybe God

matters of categories

x

and are these women metaphors

yes

in addition to blood-and-muscled lives

one by one

to save the rest

and

sacred

and secular

bring salvation

into light

and also night

all the hours

all the real stories

toward eternity

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Prince Akachi on Unsplash

x

1

3 poems of encounters

(x = space)

x

x

x

3 poems of encounters

x

x

x

Love, NOAA

x

Emily

Franklin

Gert

Harold

x

The writer on

The wuthering heights

The character from PBS

Maybe the nickname

For Ms Stein

And I heard one forecaster

At least

Call it Harry

x

Our alphabet

Our panoply

Of names for the destruction

Small gods as small pilgrims

Manifesting through the portal

Moving away at last

To foreign altars

x

And what they do to us

Who would be faithful

If we knew the rites

The saints

For weather and

Forfending the destruction

Of an age

Each time

x

x

x

Grocery Store Evangelists

x

I met two evangelists

Last evening

After I got all the pills

That I needed

Well

Nearly

(the count after

means I need to order

more

silly

heart disease)

And was shopping

For a little more

When a tract appeared

x

Do I believe in God

How about Jesus

And the Holy Spirit

Am I saved

Do I read my Bible

x

I could say yes

And so we had

A pleasant conversation

In the spirit

We invoked

As two and three were gathered

(that’s in the Bible

too)

x

Their work is urgent

And actually

They’re happy

In it

Still the greater task

Not to take on faith-attackers in the forum

But to reach

The dispossessed

Who are indifferent

x

The lukewarm dogs

That Revelation says

Are the greater challenges

To see

To hear

To taste

The need for faith

x

Through all the rings of Earth

The rounds

Of worldly agendas

x

I wish them well

I wish no violence

I wish smooth rhetoric

All love through

Everything

They are

And move

And have their being

x

x

For through God we live and move and have our being.  As some of your own poets (Aratus, say) have said, “We are God’s offspring.”

Acts of the Apostles 17:28

NIV with paraphrase

x

x

x

These Girls, These Women

x

I wish I were more

Like Meg

But I don’t have a seeing rock

And I’m not that faithful

Though my feelings

Toward my father

Moved

Evolved

As well

x

I wish I were like Angharad

But I’m not a warrior

And have not won

A blue sword

x

Or the young women in

The Witch of Blackbird Pond

Who was running

From her persecutors

Turned

And beheld

Her ship of rescue

x

I have the managerial acumen

Of Mom

Some of her anger

Too

And there’s my sister

Who does everything

So well

x

Maintains a jungle

In her home

While I take my few plants

To turn them brittle

Though

The pots look nice

x

These girls

These women

We should learn so much

About being boys

And men

And girls

And women

And scions of great literature

Ourselves to qualify

Among them

Should someone tell

With fictive elegance

Our stories

x

x

A Wrinkle in Time

x

x

x

C L Couch

x

x

x

Photo by Vlad Frolov on Unsplash

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