Search

clcouch123

I talk you talk we'll talk

Open Search
Author

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.

Psalms 52 and 53

Psalm 52

song of passion

 

Some things are not enough even

From an impoverished place,

Contemplating gifts.

 

O God,

Where is your own longing?

And where might mine match yours?

 

 

Psalm 53

song of compassion

 

Lord,

Why should you listen to me, anyway

But I’ll keep talking, just the same

Someone is missing

And others are searching

It’s far away

I don’t know anyone there

 

But there are hearts

And life that always matters

So I’ll ask

Sinner before the altar

 

Please help those in motion

Watch around (above, under) the rescue

Help us in our better work

 

Bless those in need of rescue

Please

Bless the rescued

And the rescuer

 

http://www.uscgnews.com/go/doc/4007/2914970/

 

 

C L Couch

 

5

New Year

New Year

 

The rooster

Takes a turn

(the monkey

Is my year)

Oriental means eastern

But in China it is meridian

The center

For people and the life

 

We take these years

In twelve,

Which is significant for

Occidentals, too

Maybe we should learn to count

Together, dismiss compass

Names

 

Respecting the zenith

Of each degree

Each one

 

C L Couch

 

Happy Gregorian new year.  Happy lunar new year.

Still writing from a place of pain that tends to overwhelm.  I’ll be rethinking that relationship between art and suffering, sometime.

Meanwhile I’m trying.

 

0

Inauguration

Inauguration

 

A blue light in the sky

Maybe green

Depends upon perspective

Looking out along the silver sea

Of an ancient world

The truth is this:

Matter exists

So does the abstract

Earth and harmony

Air and loyalty

Water and benevolence

All things come together at the last

For judgment and better

Placement in the heavens

Meantime we breathe

We move

We love the seasons

I fall and maybe you are there

To pick me up

 

The risk, the chance, the danger

In saying, today we live

 

We step, we reach

We are aware

Living is chosen for the day

Our enemies might scoff

We in turn scorn

But better worlds than these await

And we have only time until

True glory is manifest

And a paradise of grace and will travels

Arriving in our atoms,

Saving electrons, all energy

Accounted

 

This is what we have

Who we are is how we choose

Salvation comes from love

And the faith

That persists

In you, in me, in all

 

C L Couch

 

(in my journal, after drafting for what’s above)

There.  Message for the day.  Persist.  Endure.  Celebrate a little.  Find small pleasures.  Look forward.  Move now.

My headache is bad.  The coffee helps.

 

3

Brain Burn

Brain Burn

 

Or the Quixote syndrome

(unofficial, made it up)

Idealism cannot last

But in my mind, it’s cauterized

 

After the fires, it’s clear

The windmill’s won

I ride away on my pink horse

Thankful Sancho Panza

Hadn’t seen

Or heard or felt or touched or savored

 

Any of this,

Flame or ash

 

C L Couch

 

1

Portland Oregon (haiku)

Portland Oregon

I have family there I

Think I lost four more

 

C L Couch

 

Four homeless people die of exposure in Portland in first 10 days of 2017

 

1

Medieval Morning

Medieval Morning

 

A bright, open, empty field

Ready for blackbird pins to touch,

Scratch, and leave tracks

That become illumination

 

This is the riddle:

Write me an answer;

Illustrate your solution,

Please

 

C L Couch

3

Negotiating the Spoon

Negotiating the Spoon

 

Have you ever worked

A spoon inside a jar of jam?

(The spoon is inside)

Certainly, you have

It’s the cozy way

 

The curve slides under the

Oranged part, and

There you have a treasure

Slip it out and pour it

On the toast (I favor rye)

 

Save for the skinny parts

Sticking to the utensil

You must negotiate

The goop on the back

And in the bowl

So the spoon is gently

Struck onto the bread; some

Comes off, and

 

The rest is prized out with

A finger

A suckling part

Of anticipation of the rest

Taste of solution-solving

 

Impracticality

What a treat

Veniality

To wash off

A moment’s

Work at the sink

 

Time and use of smarter efficiency

And these have value

 

So do the slow and cumbered ways

That force the option upon us

The pleasure in what we are doing

The charity

 

C L Couch

 

2

The Russia Plane

The Russia Plane

 

I’m so sorry

And in this I do not care about

Antipathy between governments

And generations’ leaders

 

Loss of life from Russia

The choir, the humanitarian

Anyone from any place of any kind

Or backing

Agenda no longer counts save

Mother Russia weeping

 

Fill the holes in churches and

In agnostic circles

With salt water from our tears

And Black Sea depths

 

C L Couch

 

 

http://www.cnn.com/2016/12/25/asia/russian-military-jet-disappears/index.html?utm_source=digg&utm_medium=email

 

2

Hurry

Hurry

 

Christ is born everywhere

I mean no disrespect

 

But Christ is born in igloos

And in houses split by war

Among refugees

And in soldier camps

 

Christ is born in Istanbul

Where meet all kinds of Christianity

He is born in mosques

And in Jewish temples

 

Christ is born in Norway,

When the days are dark

Christ is born in Fiji

Under lights of humid stars

 

Christ is born in Outback

And on New Zealand slopes

Within the folds of sheeping beings

And urban Christchurch, too

 

Christ is born in small America

And in the larger parts

Among the mean and angry

Those whose eyes and ears are full

 

Christ is born in Bethlehem,

Pennsylvania, and nearby Nazareth

In Resurrection, New Mexico,

And Devil’s Foot, Montana

 

Christ is born in France

In Germany and Belgium

Between tectonic places in Italy

And on the sweeps of Spain’s La Mancha

 

Inside the skins of churches

And other noble halls

Once bright and now sleeping

In states of ruin

 

Eurasian steppes and valleys

In places to the east and north and south

The crossing points of human worlds

And outplaces far removed

 

Christ is born where plots are made

In despot places

And Christ is born where hopes are low

And dreams are only quiet things

 

Christ is born for you

And me

Alongside faithful Hindus

And Buddhists on the way

 

Christ will walk beside all pilgrims

Those who hear a call

And those who know not

Where they go

 

Christ is born in Africa

In rutted villages and paved cities

Where voices rise in song,

While others silenced knowingly

 

Christ is born in Andes places

Those fed by weeping Amazon

With those who live in shadows

Where end all lands

And continents might cry

 

Christ is on the ice

And born into the air

Underneath the earth where

Minerals move

And where things are still

 

Christ is born near enemies or friends

No feeling is required

Christ is born in word

And light where

Faith is exposed as well as misdirection

 

Christ is born, and it is good

Christ is born and virtue opens

And evil is shuttered

Christ saves all who wish

And those who don’t know how

 

Christ is born for us

All worlds allow

Heir of Earth

All oxygen and ocean

Hale or foul,

And we should turn to please

And with shouts or

In silence bow

 

C L Couch

 

3

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑