max
there are rough edges
next
to polished ones
rough things unattended
unattending
not worth much
except attention by
the way
of splinters
on the fleshy parts of fingers
or maybe
with greater pain
underneath
nails
we sand these away
work them over with varnish
and right angles
taking them
down
using nail guns
then attaching labels
with squiggly squares
(QR?)
promising of prices
and that’s wood
but it applies to fabric
too
and even bricks
so many things
in fact
in order
(and ordering)
to have a smooth
and gilt
world
without rough
except for sex sometimes
which in the morning
is forgotten
over
coffee
served with euphemistic language
and we shop
and look for
the next smooth things
to wear
c l couch
(not advocating hair-shirts at all—only a thought about rough edges, say, on trees)
photo by Lili Kovac on Unsplash
Where the Train Track Ends
(in spirit for Shel Silverstein)
Train tracks seem
Not
To end
And I suppose
Sidewalks
Don’t
Have to end as well
Though it
Seems
They end more often
Or at least we get
To see
Or maybe trip over
If we don’t
(or
someone says
to us
hey
it’s ending)
But train tracks end
Unless in a roundhouse
In a city
Where they end
But the trains are turned around
To go another way
Or the same
Way
They came
But
Underneath our trees
At Christmastime
(or for another reason
and
you know
there could be)
The tracks don’t end
Unless
There’s a reason
Meaning something’s broken
That
We need to fix
And we fix it
And our train goes on
Around
And for variety
Perhaps
We may
If we can
(if the train came with this)
Sound a whistle
Or
In the old
Days
Make some smoke
So I should confess
Perhaps
Our sidewalks were at least
A block away
From our cul-de-sac-ed
And sidewalk-less
Neighborhood
But I had
Train tracks in the basement
And then
To be precise
(and personal)
There was a flood
Down
There
Which was
An end
Though not
The end
Of
Train tracks
C L Couch
Photo by Todd Trapani on Unsplash
Deep and
Wide
(the call
and then the gathering)
Tomorrow’s
Juneteenth
Remembering
The
unrelenting drive toward freedom
After war
After the
smaller wars
That
Take us
One by one
Even
together
For a cause
To have a
life
That daily
speaks to
Choice in
where we go
No one to
intervene
Direction
Or allowance
●
To be free
Of that
ridiculousness
That is
itself
Free of ethics
Free of consideration
For the freedom
of the flesh
Itself
Herself
Or himself
Or in the
people
All my
people
As ways
The right to
be unchained
As in each
birthing
In each
house
●
How sad
Tragic
To have to
make the case
For liberty
To use up
energy
Needed for
So many
other
Needful things
In life
For enough
acquisition
Self-esteem
in work
And play
In laughing
with the children
Of our
legacy
●
These and
other lines
Established and
maintained
As on a ship
Where working
lines
Is vital
To the journey
●
Knowing when
to keep them taut
When to let
go
Of everything
To pause
within the wind
Maybe the
wind
That tricks
the journey
Of misdirected
Doctrine
Or information
Then agendas
Without evidence
Or conviction
of
Truth inside
●
Goodness
We go far
For only a
day
But if we
don’t remember
It seems we
repeat
Not the
better parts
But the
things
That bring
us down
Into a
whirlpool
Of unknown
ending
Though without
the likelihood
To brins us
Home
●
Juneteenth
Something to
do with Texas
Though the
nation
Wholly free
Should ring
throughout all states
And to the
world
New liberty
bells
From the
same carillons
That have
been sounding since
From Independence
Hall
And are not
we owed
All of us
Some room
inside that place
That forum
From the
start
When each
one aimed
First pled to
Europe
Then
Campaigned
Consciously
●
While pushing
on
Indigenous
From the
start
And the gross
Wrongheaded
And wrong
hearted
Soiled
Spoiled
Impractical sin
In presuming
to own
People
To work a
place
In which
Nothing was
avowed
For these
●
And by the
way
Of our
family
Traded for
And purchased
In the way
of hell
Against
Disgrace from
heaven
●
Then begin
Inside one’s
own
And all our
own
Words and
moves
Toward freedom
Centuries
Ago
Throughout
A woeful
Backward aga
Into the
struggle
Even for
this hour
Certainly
for this day
●
Juneteenth
A new day
For triumphant
calendars
For the
meaning
And the pleasuring
Owning for
Instead
Flesh
And home
And fear
only of God
In this
brightened hour
Followed by
another
In arriving
To the
lit-up day
Illustrious
And carried
to tomorrow
For a legacy
●
But in this
time
We have
Please own
it
The idea
The discretion
Humility
Restraint in
Knowing
And having
This second
Freely
Then with
hope
That anyone
might
Freely have
Into another
And another
Toward that
better age
To which we
add
In quiet
ways
Of love
And this
Our proclamation
Of the same
●
Amen?
Maybe we
could say
Syllables for
striving
An
Amen
C L
Couch
Photo by Pawel
Czerwinski on Unsplash
Lemur Looking
Who are you
I am a king
Maybe I’m a girl
But I’m a king
What is a zoo
Don’t look at me
I’ll decide
Who’s worthy
C L Couch
a flash response from Melissa Lemay’s prompt, https://melissalemay.wordpress.com/2024/06/03/melissas-fandango-flash-fiction-challenge-271/
I first read Grace's response at https://graceofthesun.com/playful-climb/
Photo by Stephen Hickman on Unsplash
(tag) #FFFC
hymn contemporary
the church’s one foundation
(still) is Jesus Christ, her lord
the church is she
like the damsel in distress
needing rescue
Christ is the hero
drawing her
from the drowning water
cutting her ties
by the villain
to the railroad tracks
like a melodrama
and why not
we’re talking about
villains and heroes
and mortgages
and the need for something better
as in more
than who we are
and we go on to sing
that Jesus will not fail
which is not bad
which is good
in a hero
coda
next hymn
or next version
the church will be a he
and will be rescued
by a she
by the female hero
who is Christ
like Zenobia
or Boudica
but better than the Romans
defeating the inimical
forever
and other genders
or what is genderless
in life
that has life
the organic
I suppose
the inorganic
too
there is a Lord
not only over all
but who is all
to make the rest
only a little separate
in the deified scheme of things
by identity
and purpose
and will
c l couch
("The Church's One Foundation" is a Christian hymn; this morning a contemporary fusion of the hymn was shared)
photo by Jefferson Santos on Unsplash
Enormity
I don’t know
What it means
(I mean
I can
do the count)
For two thousand people
To die
In a brief length of time
Like the candle that
Goes out
(two thousand
brief
candles)
A day or a few days
Seems all of a sudden
And I don’t
Understand
I don’t get it
Apprehend
That is
In that way
There was a landslide
They are gone
How does that happen
They were
Consumed
Their flesh subsumed
I think
And all the parts of them
That mattered
Day by day
Each one
Who breathed
And loved
And worked
And did so with others
Prosaic destruction
Nothing unheard of
I think I am led to believe
This happens
All the time
It’s awful
We try shoring up
Here and there
And think and act prevention
For a while
And not to say
That’s bad
So much better than
Idly waiting
Like the Eloi
For a disaster
From the water
Or the Morlocks
To dissipate
Only a little more
The consciousness
Of play
Sometimes nightly terror
Then play
Again in day
Well
These folk
Real folk
Are gone
Via catastrophe
And however unexpected
It must
Like someone we know
Always a surprise
No matter what
We knew
To find them gone
New seasons
For a while
A time to grieve
And if to dance
A grieving dance
And then
It will have to be
Against the tears
And the
Weighing-down
Anathema
Will be
Must be
A time to plant
A time to build
A time to harvest
Feed
And provide
For all of us
The many who
Must remain
To keep our world
(sorry)
Going
C L Couch
Landslide in Papua New Guinea Killed More than 2,000, Officials Say
SYDNEY – Papua New Guinea's massive landslide three days ago buried more than 2,000 people, the government said on Monday, as treacherous terrain and difficulties transporting aid lowered hopes of finding survivors. The National Disaster Centre gave the new number in a letter to the U.N. released Monday but dated Sunday.
Photo by Dicky Wauyari on Unsplash
(referencing The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, also the character in another story who mentions a brief candle)
simply setting the scene
midsummer introit
a month from now
I guess
is
summer
or midsummer
by tradition
and assemblies
in the evening
with the fireflies
attending
and
berries
also in their time
afterward
for nourishment
‘til autumn
with better-known
celebrations
then
c l couch
photo by Padre_moovi on Unsplash
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