2 poems about the will of God
Last Will and Testament
My will
Then yours
I mess things up
Then turn to you
It’s a formula
I guess
Like knowing what I want Scripture to say
Then going to it
Shaking the Magic 8-Ball
Many times
Until it says
What I want it
To say
Doesn’t make much of a God of you
Which is a really stupid way
To think and act
Before a God
But you withhold
It seems
Act in return
With anger that is intimate
And telling
In that way
Though sometimes in the actual storm
That no one saw coming
As a penalty
And sign
Remembering at Last
I’m tired
I want
To write some
More
Without a thing to say
Meaning I want
To write
And have nothing
To say
That God is good
And loves you so much
That God is true
In being real
And being faithful
Perfectly
For you
Well
Out of nothing
That is a great deal
And the great deal about the Lord
Is simply to believe
And that is all
Something called grace
Free and easy
(always free
sometimes not easy)
Does the rest
And we shall meet
Where love has made a place for us
Just outside of Eden
With the angel
This time
Setting down the sword
Letting the fire go
To let us in
C L Couch
Photo by andrew solok on Unsplash
Artist Colony
Do I have
Anything
To share with you
Today
I could
And should remind you
God is love
And also
By the way
That God is true
As nothing else is true
In fact
Is the model
For the truth and
Trueness
That we try
And truth builds justice
Out of reason
And humility
The better things
That we have going
Not being
God
But being made
And image-like
(dark glass
you know)
We are models
With gifts
And what shall we give
Out of our giftedness
Our making
Now we make
And our
Giving matters
So much to
Each other
And also
More than we think on it
To God
So make
Co-make
And give
Even as the world
And circumstance allow
For God is love
And we are love
In this
We are the best we are
On the best Earth there is
Care
And health
And contribution
Shall keep us in
Our giving
And receiving
To take
Care
Be healthy
Let others help
(remember crafting tables)
Be love
While giving love
And
Who knows
Truth and justice might
Will out
In love
C L Couch
Photo by Tom Parsons on Unsplash
A photo that speaks for itself.
[photographer’s caption]
At first, I thought this was Washington, D.C. But it isn’t. But I suppose it could be anywhere, with or without an impressive building in the background.
[my caption]
London, United Kingdom
2 poems about the day
Fish Fry
(check the shape of stanza'd, ichthus undulation)
Friday
Fry day
Fish fry day
At the Catholic church
For penance
I suppose
Though the is
So much
One can’t complain
Of abstemious devotion
And the money
Should go somewhere
Good
And we Protestants
Can enjoy that
Too
Should we think on it
While crunching into fish with
Whatever else
Is
Provided
Yay
Catholics
Thank you for
This weekend treat
You all
Have
A great weekend
Too
After all the cooking
(the worry over getting
burned
while frying)
And all the cleaning
That frankly
We did not
Have to do
Though when it’s our turn with
A rummage sale
We’ll clean up
Afterward
For you
Thirteen O’Phobia
Today is Friday
A thirteenth
Sorry to
Triskaidekaphobes
Watch out
Black cats
They’ll be avoiding you
Which now I think it
Might be the quite suitable
Arrangement
And ladders
Mirrors
Sidewalk
Cracks
Salt containers
All the things that make
This day less
Amenable
And it’s the number
Generally
As well
The lack of such in buildings
Even
Now
And what was it
Crucifixion on a Friday
Or the barbaric
Gory dissolution of the Templars
On a Friday
Thirteenth
Early in the fourteenth century
(1307
look
another thirteen)
And Judas killed himself
Maybe on that
Friday
Being the thirteenth disciple
(once removed)
In some lore
But for me
And maybe I should apologize
I often
Find
The day goes very well
Which might be
Determination
Or
Luck
Half-Irish luck
For my mother’s family
While on my father’s
Side
There are the English
Who most likely
Do not care
About the day and
Date
As long as the flag is flying
Somewhere in a
Time zone
Over Earth
C L Couch
(9/13/2024)
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
Matthias, Paul, Judas—who is the thirteenth disciple/Apostle? (Rhetorical question--depends on whose tradition's answering.)
Painless
(for patient patients)
I need my pain
The captain
Said
And I suppose
The captain’s
Right
Worse the luck
For all
The pain
That is
In the world
My portion
In
My body
At the moment
And for hours
And for
Days
Treatments
Notwithstanding
(they help for
a while
sometimes
but
might not resolve)
I complain
It’s inconvenient
And
Might be a sign
Of
Something worse
Inside where
I can’t see
Of
Course
And maybe a medico
Or a machine
Will tell
It is a signal
That something
Is wrong
And as
A constant
Thing
Might mean
There’s always
Something
Wrong
Which could be a
Signal
Even
Of mortality
To bear
There’s pain
And there is pain
‘Cause
There are kinds
And painless be
The world
In
The future
On
The other side
Apocalyptic
When joy
Shall go unmingled
And
Can we
Imagine
Such a thing
A time
(timeless)
And place
(not
placeless)
And new condition
While
We carry what
We carry
And regarding
Hurt
We try and
Others try
To fix us
For forbearance
And for health
Here
And now
(not timeless)
C L Couch
Captain Kirk is quoted
Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
To the Dark Towers Came
The news said
that
a private plane
had hit
one of the towers
of
the World Trade Center.
I felt awful for
the pilot
and the passenger.
I had to get to school.
I listened
to the radio
on the way. The news
was
still confused.
I got
to school and walked from
the car to the building
where
the classroom was. I
entered
the room to find
the TV on,
everyone staring. Then
I found out
what happened,
that
the towers were gone, one
tower then
the other.
The planes were
jet liners. Commercial
planes.
Hundreds of folk
were
running toward
the site
to try
to rescue thousands.
No doubt
these responders looked
up
to see
the buildings there,
made of air
and memory.
C L Couch
Photo by In Memory of Yan Ji on Unsplash
Child No More
The end of childhood
Clarke tells us
In a story
It’s about evolution
And we change
We develop
And someday with help
Maybe
Dramatically
Or drastically
We’ll grow beyond our knowing
Into something
New
And sometimes what is new is
Frightening
At the least it’s
Inconvenient
Packing up old things
Sometimes
Unpacking
The new things or
Waiting
For delivery
Depending on who’s helping us
Depending on resources
That maybe have arrived as
New capacities
Already
New
Ways
Of seeing things
Of understanding
Goodness
It’s a sci-fi story
After all
Speculation into future
Possibilities
I guess we have to grow
We can’t stay still on
Earth
Forever
It’s doesn’t work that way
For even Earth
Will change
And we won’t stay
We can’t
The Earth and us
Are changing now
C L Couch
Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke
Photo by K8 on Unsplash
n. b.
Which doesn’t
Mean
We destroy the Earth
While we’re
Here
The cosmos will not welcome us
This way
And those who think to
Hurry Armageddon
Are close to a lunacy
Of strategy
And should be walking back
Any notions
Of playing God
Or playing
God
How We Might Be Made
In a cloistered class
Someone could
Ask
Maybe
Inspired by
A word
Where do we live
Inside
And how might that relate
To what’s outside
Say
(say)
How do we
Live inside
In a war
And then after
If alive
In a time of troubled
Unbelieving peace
Inside
While
Waiting for what happens
To break and ruin
Outside
Once again
How does we prize
Our own
Ambition
Against all the things
In the world
That
Take the pursuit of
Dreams
Away
How do we act our dreams
After war
Even a war with nature
Though
War with each other
With humanity
Seems worse
But after trauma
Living trauma
Then in such a group
To begin
A response
Well
(well)
We hope
We can
C L Couch
Photo by Julia Rekamie on Unsplash
Orange You Glad
Orange for fall
Or in the sunrise
Or the sunset
Or in something that we’ll see
Through the day
Like
You know
An orange
Or we’ll hear the word
Or pull out a chair
Wrapped in orange cloth
(made
of whatever)
Or we’ll smell upon
Unpeeling
Or taste the actual thing
And
Fall or fruit
We might be reminded
That bright colors
Are a good thing
Or bright
Sounds
Or maybe something else
That’s bright
Like feelings
Or an insight
Not that the muted tones
Don’t matter
For they do
But
Metaphors for brilliance
Are a good thing
Especially
When color is on Earth
So readily
And ethically
Available
C L Couch
Photo by Simone Fischer on Unsplash
(there is a riddle and a pun that in English renders “orange” into “aren’t you”—sorry it most likely doesn’t translate well in other languages)
you know that thing
you know that thing
that
someone had said
about insanity
meaning
doing the same thing
(not working)
and expecting something different
(successful)
next
time
I don’t mean
the tungsten thing
you know
when
Edison tried a hundred filaments or so
to light a light bulb for
a while
‘cause
each time
he tried a different substance
and
in fact
could say he found
he found a hundred ways
not
to light
a light bulb
of course
then what happened
maybe not with Edison
was that
light bulbs were staying lit
too
long
and so they were
changed
to stay lit for
shorter lengths of
time
(like Shakespeare’s brief candle
meaning length
of life)
and so
less lengthy
so to say
light bulbs were re-invented
re-provided
thus
securing
among other things
our
disposable society
then there was
the Stanley Steamer
which
is
if similar
another story
c l couch
photo by Félix Girault on Unsplash
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