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clcouch123

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clcouch123

In conversation, I prefer Christopher. My mom named me after Christopher Robin, after all. In writing, I use “C L Couch” (or, more simply, “c l couch”) because the form is genderless and also frankly easier to use. I have awful writer’s cramp. I am an educator more or less retired, more or less due to disability. At present, I live in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania (USA). My writing here I mean to be occasional and also devotional. Either or both. The banner and profile photographs are by my friend and peer Debra Danielson. More of Debbie’s work to be enjoyed is at debradanielson.org. Thanks to each of you and both and all for coming to my blog.

Pray for All the Bad People

(x = space)

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Pray for All the Bad People

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Too often

I don’t like the world

So much

Too much of it is ugly

And dissembling

And there are brutal people

Who would take everything

From everyone else

If they could,

Who would like to hear

What I have just said

About them

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But I have a moment

Now

The breeze is on me

There is sunshine

Blue inside green trees

Thinking about

The change to autumn

Things don’t have to be so bad

Not everywhere

With everyone

I know there are people

So much better

Than myself

Who would have prayed

For me

And for my attitude

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I can’t collapse

Into a ball

Of self-decided evil

I am not all bad

Or all good

Neither are you

We’re a mixture and we try

There are some who won’t,

I guess

Who see the quantities

As hollow and would prefer

A blank space from which

To self-determine

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Choice is good

I choose to lean toward good

I hope you do

Though I will not decide for you

And must respect your humanity

As I struggle to respect

My own

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They are not

Two sides of a coin

This is not the plain

Of Manichee

Though I think there might be

A garden or such place

In which we may decide

What is what

Who is who

With peace inside

While time waits without

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Choose what you will

There is precedence

I will pray

As you can

As you will

You will pray

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C L Couch

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1 Real

Photo by Eduardo Soares on Unsplash

Brazil

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And All Forgotten Wars

(x = space)

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And All Forgotten Wars

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I hold my head

Look at the mottled

Skin on my legs

And wonder

In addition to

Genetics,

How my father did it

How did he live?

What was happening

On the inside?

He was alone

For so long,

One way or the other

I think he wanted

Peace

From the war

But wouldn’t say so

And eventually

The lack of peace

Took him

Pushed him

Where he did not want

To go

Inside a dark place

That would accept

No light

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C L Couch

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The U.S. Navy destroyer USS Walke (DD-723) underway at sea in Far Eastern waters, 23 November 1953.

by W.L. Fowler, U.S. Navy, from USS Yorktown (CVA-10) – U.S. Navy photo NH 99810, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1622057

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Listen

(x = space)

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Listen

x

Up

Down

Inside

Outside

For alarms

For words—for

Signals

Of all things

That make a world

Listen for

Small voices

The kind that

Make a testament

As at Mizpah

Me and thee

On Sinai

And in

The gospel message

Good news

Of all kinds

That make a world

That made

The heavens, too

All things

That will last

Listen to them

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C L Couch

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Pass by

Photo by María Julia Martínez on Unsplash

Granada , Spain

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Bother

(x = space)

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Bother

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Lord,

It’s Thursday

And I don’t know what to do

There are many things

Looking after,

I suppose, like

The Kenny Loggins

Song about Pooh Corner

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Some things

Might be important

In the world

Not for fame

No

But for minimally

Watching expectation

That some imperial force

Around the corner is

Coming ‘round

And keeping count

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I’m not sure how

The anchorites and hermits

Pull it off,

Remove themselves from

The bazaar of interchange

For profit,

Recognition,

Maybe a place

At the table where

All the shining people sit

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Maybe it’s the maybes

The desert is a sure thing,

After all

Or maybe they know something

So much better

Than the rest

And to rest in that,

Surprise in know

How content they are

x

But removal

Like a spot

Need not be necessary

It’s Thursday

We can pick up something here

Or there

That does need doing

And deciding

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C L Couch

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Photo by Joshua Fuller on Unsplash

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Amnon

(x = space)

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Amnon

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I don’t know what

To say about the women

Who have died

Who were murdered

Or left

To die another way,

Another kind

Of murder

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Casualties

In war or other

Barbarism

Starved, thirsted

Frightened

Or abandoned out

Of existence

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We can do this

We can do this to each other

Men can do this

To women

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C L Couch

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[Image by] Gary Todd from Xinzheng, China – Winged Victory of Samothrace, Marble, c. 190 BC, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=101242500

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Equinoxic

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Equinoxic

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Is it really in the sixties?

That is so nice

Today or tomorrow

Is the equinox

And fall will be official

We want it to be fall, I think

The leaves to turn

The air to be a challenge

Time for coats

And yellow schoolbuses

Easier to see

Take care

Autumn has its challenges

Practice looking out

For trick-or-treaters

First frost

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C L Couch

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in the northeast of the USA, northern hemisphere

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I looked at the temperature and said to myself the first two lines

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Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

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Hallmark Would Have It Rhyme

(x = space)

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Hallmark Would Have It Rhyme

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My circle has

Widened some

In lively ways

And souls

x

Lois, John, Paul

(no George or Ringo)

Mandy, Lynn

Other blogging friends

Some of these from

Reaching out

A little

Some are a surprise

With or without

The reaching

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And I am thankful

The circle has

Ends meet,

Even braided

x

Like the rim

Of that thing at Thanksgiving

Inside which are all

The fruits and nuts,

Wheat stems

Other good things

Of Earth

Like seasons

And like friendship

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C L Couch

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Photo by Shyam on Unsplash

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I like Hallmark cards and enjoy sending them out for holidays.  I especially like the Peanuts cards at Hallowe’en.  (No, Hallmark people didn’t make me say this.  I’m sure they don’t know I’m here.)

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A Kind of Peace

(x = space)

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A Kind of Peace

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A weird kind of

Thing

Happens for no reason

A reason

We don’t know

Yet can live with, anyway

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Spirited

Even takes our words away

Fills us with

A moment when

We see

Each other

x

When we know the world

Enough

To have enough

For being filled of

This other way

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C L Couch

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Earthrise

https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=306267

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Errant Psalm

(x = space)

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Errant Psalm

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What shall I say, Lord?

I need you

I also need my friends

My family

A quiet place in which

To live

Normal noise, that is

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A covenant

‘Twixt you and me

Not like Mizpah where

We keep our weapons bound

Because we have no weapons

And, if we do,

Maybe we should

Behold them

Not to be afraid

But to be honest

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In deal-making,

Who else is there to trust?

The other contracts end

Mostly they fail

The living bonds

Sometimes they fail, too

But you are with me

And the best way

To have anyone

Or anything

Secured

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I wipe my face

And offer you the same

You will take our earthly

Molecules

And turn them with

The Spirit so that

Everything might last

Forever

And a day,

The day when we come home

To which you take us

And you greet us there

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Thank you, Lord,

For such reliance

Forever-keeping

In your gracious hand

Made out of

Everything that’s good

With which you make

Everything that’s

Going to remain

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C L Couch

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Photo by Dan-Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash

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WordPress has changed the editing procedure for images; so far I don’t like it. We’ll see how it goes. And how I go. (Grr.)

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