amigo ausente
well
I’m sorry
I know I should be glad
that he’s in heaven
now
but I liked him
liked his presence
even in
the way-distant way I knew it
knew him
I like
the name he chose
I like the way he tried
I don’t like the way
that we heard
and he looked ill
and now
that’s not a problem
but I liked his look
of love on Earth
and now
we won’t have
save in pictures and maybe
in the same wide way
a new one
new papa
I wish I could have visited
and heard him chat with friends
(are
popes allowed
to have
friends)
to have heard the Spanish
easy on his lips like home
heard an easy laugh
from him
at something
a friend without expectations
might have said
c l couch
photo by Fr. Daniel Ciucci on Unsplash
rest with
rest with
I think of thick
cloth
maybe with a scent of earth
and what is
the scent of resurrection
I don’t know
the face
for fear
for shame of looking
but I can’t help
but rest
against the folds
and a little ways
inside
I rest
and I don’t know the surface
of the ground
beneath
it could be firm
it could be clouds
if could
be fire
but for the company
I’ll keep resting
maybe fall
asleep
daring and remarkable
in the Earth-turning
and somehow homely presence
of the Lord
c l couch
for Easter Monday
photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash
must be an unholy day
the Romans hate us
which is easy
in so easy a hard
and harsh land
but our own
too
our people loathe us
hate us
people scorned within a people scorned
the larger group
too easy to be crying crucify
again
without even a Barabbas
to be freed in
irony of law
no trick for us of
politics
we shall simply be found
and ended
with the teaching
with
the message
and
somehow
maybe because we know the devil
is involved
we know the hatred isn’t Roman
is not
Judean
but something both
deeper and on the surface
temptation within
hatred expressed
in fear
in rage
a human thing
more than any group
even of
promises
or who seem to be the rulers
of the Earth
we many say
in darkness
now
the all of us killed the one
whom
came to save through reconciliation
all of us killed
one
who now is gone
and we wait
without waiting
for
who expects more after the finality
of death
not Roman
not Judean
all of us on either side
and from all sides
from
the wreckage of Eden
where
the devil also won before
finally a curse
and aren’t we all cursed
and now
enough philosophy
or
hoping something out of meditation
rather
now
we turn
we hide away
we wait for
not a thing
worth
the waiting
c l couch
for Holy (also ironic) Saturday
photo by Aleksei Agafonov on Unsplash
tenebrous
the devil wins
today
having turned the human forces
in the world
toward
death
humiliation of what’s good
even perfect
that traditions
say
came to save us from
ongoing
serpent
temptation
the twisting of what has been made
so good
bad
grotesque
the evil these point
toward has
won
without awareness
then
of three-day’s waiting time
the good is gone
or
must hide
surrender to new nothingness
of faith
and hope
and
love
c l couch
for Good (ironic) Friday
photo by Aleksei Agafonov on Unsplash
Hearing a New Commandment
Bread and wine
For body
Wind for spirit
Earth
For creation
These show the nature of
The Lord
In closest metaphors
Like mustard seeds
For faith
And there are other metaphors
For appreciation
And
For learning
But these are things we have
And may know
Easily
Even rather thoroughly
That any might believe in
What they represent
And so
Have faith
In the intimate way
The better things are and have
Been made
Bread
Wine
Wind
Earth
Learn
Believe
Love
Live
C L Couch
for Maundy Thursday
John 13:34-35 (and in Matthew 22)
Matthew 11:15, 13:9
Photo by Assad Tanoli on Unsplash
Kermitage
I’d like my alone place
To have
Green
I’d like to sing
And ride a bicycle
And live
Some parts of animated
Miracles
I’d like some time to contemplate
And then I’d like my green self
To find
Company with others
Maybe on a sunlit street
Or on a grander set
Or if a pond
A pond
That might be a homecoming
Anyway
Some place small or large
With people small
And large
Who look like me
Or never shall
And so be wonder to me
Maybe to
All
All the time
Green
And otherwise
My being green
At
Least in part
Forever
C L Couch
on Palm Sunday
Photo by Jack Shen on Unsplash
The Explorers
Gagarin
And then Shepard
And all those who strived
To fly
And couldn’t
Because the experiments were
Unsuccessful and
Also
Something untoward happened
Loss of life so that others
Of us could go
Up there
Frank loss
Before Gagarin
After
Shepard
The cost like that paid
By
Icarus
To soar toward the sun
More than
The waxen body’s made
And yet
Crazy
And extraordinary
We go
And keep
On going
‘Til the satellites
Than the ships
Then
Space stations
Now
Moon
Once down though now
To live there
Now Mars
Inside our time
Our
Reach
It’s danger clearly
Also
Vision and new
Industry
Even good for business
(tin foil
and the microwave from the moon
race)
Though more the skill of hands
Pushed by minds
And hope
To take
Us there
And there and there
C L Couch
International Day of Human Space Flight
Photo by Planet Volumes on Unsplash
fanciful yet intentional verses about night
vampyr
the life I live these days
as one
no sleep at night
but rather after dawn
insomnia
stress from above
the hours at night are clear
and
frankly
I want them
so no pointy things around me
please
I’m still so tired all the time
I’m sure I’d pierce some part of me
with those
at 11:11
a time for me and God
a time
that
God approves
a small thing between us
two
something the world shouldn’t
mind
or try to
take away
maybe you have your times
throughout the day
that
read specially to you and the one
protecting
all
our intimacies
evening drive
the rain is romantic
I can go by houses lighted for night
pretend the yellow lines are clear
drive past the occasional
driveway
sometimes pretending one
or another
could
be mine
c l couch
photo by Amir Borhan on Unsplash
Heat
(a kind of review)
Fire burns
Which means that for survival
Fire’s good
And yet fire destroys
The fuel we place
But
Everything that gets away
The flames that ruin homes
For animals
For us
And everyone
And everything
Of course
That burns
The spirit of the Lord
We equate with
Fire
And I don’t know what is means
By denotation
To fire as in to separate from
A job
Still
It is ubiquitous
It seems
Like “they”
And though its forms seem drastic
As in warming
As in cooking
So we live
And by heat often through the night
And yet
To take away survival
Too
There being the matter of its
Wildness
That is the problem
That makes the thing hideous to
Destroy
Without fixing as much
As only to build over for
Recourse
Yet there is God
Again
Whose spirit is not wise the way
We think is wise
And is not
Tame
The way we think only in formal matters
Should God
Be relegated
Rather
God is wild
Even in wildness
You know
The wilderness
Which we won’t like for lack
Of building
Compartmentable
Purchasable
Convenience
(and the promoting of a market)
And
Who knows how God might feel but
Uses such heaths and
Pagan places
Anyway
Tame and wild
Which shall we have
Of course
But both
Let God normalize
And let go
If lovingingly
Amok
Like fire
In a frame
And who sets the flame
(out of
lovingly flammable
inflammable materials)
But the tame
The comfort in
The very God while also dwelling
In the zealous flame that both
And must
Love
As well as
And often even as
The heat
And I guess we must mean
The heat of all kinds
C L Couch
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
“Bonfire Night”
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