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Lathes and Crucibles

(x = space)

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Lathes and Crucibles

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What shall we say to God

Between sabbath times

Or other times of prayer

Or times when none of us

Are praying?

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Shall we say

We’re rather tired, rather

Busy, rather occupied with

Real things—money and

Mortgages and relationships

(and these are real)?

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When God asks us, in

Turn, what have you for me?

Knowing he does not mean

Money or mortgages

Or relationships (not their

numbers, certainly),

What shall we say?

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But we were busy

But we meant to,

Well, you know

You know, you know the

World—so why bother us?

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Can we not put a peg

In salvation?  Can we not

Reserve a space for the

Apocalypse?  A room when

We hear you have

So many rooms?

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This might tear grace apart

Hope might cry

Salvation might be small,

Smaller in number

Than was planned

The mansion empty

With all our watches

At the door,

Just outside

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Why do we believe in God?

I asked my mother

Because people are afraid

Of going to hell,

She said

And there’s wisdom there,

Pragmatic

Though she had better faith,

I know

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Faith is not for empty wings

But for a heart and mind

And soul

To fly

The rituals won’t answer

When the angels (solid beings

rife with wings)

As on behalf of God

To bar the way with

Flaming swords

And molten tears, weeping

For God’s way

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The narrow way

That wasn’t meant to be

But for our refusal

Widened the other

Set fenceposts of denial,

Left out arrows

Of deception,

Tour guides with toothy

Grins

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Metanoia

Turning as in

Repentance

Paint the other way

(a pun in English)

We have time

For the sake of miracles

And grace,

There might be seconds

For the future

What you are going to do,

Do it now

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C L Couch

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(goodness, this is grim—but so is the news today)

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By H005 – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8384955

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Machine Languages

(x = space)

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Machine Languages

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Too much heat

A killing metaphor

But for now

I have the benefit of machines

The kind that cool,

The kind that distract

I’m lucky

Don’t I know it

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In several months

I’ll need machines

The other way

And won’t I know it

To warm my food

To warm the rest of me

Against a northern

Winter

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I have to thank machines

That bide my time

That give me time

To heal

To forget

To move through seasons

In a constant state

Like quicksilver

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Like the cardinal

That, up here,

Flies through seasons

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C L Couch

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Cardinal diving down from tree.

Photo by gerhard crous on Unsplash

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After I Believe

(x = space)

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After I Believe

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I don’t know how

     to live for you

I wish I did

I know

     the Spirit is supposed

To guide me,

Though what are

     the steps to take

And practices

     to follow

I don’t know or am

     out of practice

     (hah)

Or never knew and need

Companions

     also in the flesh

To help me

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C L Couch

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Photo taken from The Nue Co. marketing campaign.

Photo by Finn on Unsplash

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Why Sometimes There’s a ? Mark

(x = space)

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Why Sometimes There’s a ? Mark

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The ending of a movie

Doesn’t say

“The End” so

Much, which

Might be just as well

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Stories go on:

An event has an ending

However it might

Dwindle

Toward an emptiness of

Time and company

While the next thing is in

Motion

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Motion, motion—

Investment of potential,

Expenditure

Of energy,

Profit of contribution toward the

Turning of the Earth

And shall we say it,

Joy

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Yes, using

The “eternal delight”

Of Blake

Amid the envying of

All unmoving things that want

To be introduced

Into the

Calling rushing of the universe

And so it seems

Never the end

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C L Couch

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On Set

Photo by Avel Chuklanov on Unsplash

Portland, United States

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A Game of Go

(x = space)

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A Game of Go

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I should go

And now I must

Hello, Captain Spaulding,

And now

I must be going

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Where I do not know

(I think the

captain

meant to stay)

And I must balance

Coins upon a plate

Upon a stick

Held high

That somehow starts a kind

Of arch

Maybe an energetic

Ley line

That on the other side

Under the same sky

Is a place

To land

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With only a few more things

Broken

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C L Couch

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(English-teachery note)

Captain Spaulding is a character performed by Groucho Marx in the movie (first the play) Animal Crackers.

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A Korean couple playing Go in traditional dress. Photographed between 1910 and 1920.

Frank and Frances Carpenter Collection – This image is available from the United States Library of Congress's Prints and Photographs divisionunder the digital ID cph.3b26994.This tag does not indicate the copyright status of the attached work. A normal copyright tag is still required. See Commons:Licensing for more information., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2871048

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No One Asks for Silence

(x = space)

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No One Asks for Silence

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No one asks for science,

Really

The lack of noise would drive us

Where we’d never want

To go

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But no one wants barrages,

Either

Of war or words or walls

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Not being unflawed,

I cannot claim forever

Virtuosity

So now inside an unjust

Place, I have to

Assay justice for the now

Against the always

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Time and change

And I shall go away

And hope not to return

Because larger signs

Of decay

(naught to do with me)

Already settled in

Before the current woe,

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And I should have owned the signs

Enough to leave

A while ago

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C L Couch

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Photo by insung yoon on Unsplash

Seonyeon-ri, Okseo-myeon, Gunsan-si, Jeollabuk-do, South Korea x

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Day 3

(x = space)

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Day 3

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Of an awful week

When everything still hurts

And crying underneath the skin

Wants out

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Being ganged up against

As electrons, anyway

What they’d say for real

We’ll never know

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Time for change

But how a change

When nearly everything

Is frozen

Like Merlin

Like Ophelia

What kind of life might

Come after

Shouldn’t be a mystery

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C L Couch

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ice on the fountain in my yard

Photo by erin mckenna on Unsplash

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Prescriptive Talk

(x = space)

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Prescriptive Talk

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The pain

It courses through me

I want to feel better

I want vindication

I want acceptance

In the world

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Mainly, though,

I want the pain to stop

And feel better in

That way

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C L Couch

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Spikes

Photo by Andrey Grinkevich on Unsplash

Meadowlark Botanical Gardens & Meadowlark’s Winter Walk of Lights, Vienna, United States

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Hot Mess

(x = space)

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Hot Mess

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A knifing pain

Guts through

This is not a study

The other one

Must be a saint

So this must be the demon

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Hooked on one’s own

Fallacies, who can

Judge the partial

And unknown?

Who should?

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God should

But we are here

On Earth

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C L Couch

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lit cooker gas ring

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

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