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
Damnably Persist
(hmm, maybe an essay or a sermon as a poem)
The wars go on
Floods and eruptions rage
Sometimes on cue
Sometimes without
Early warning
Or a warning
That is useless
For too late
Our preparation
To mean anything
Or because the prophets have been saying
This would happen
And it does
For all our art
And science
Serving rather the agendas
Of human politics
And nature’s
And so the world
Tries to teach us
Something
About what’s important
And to be ready for
In time
To use our intelligence
Technology
And all we understand to know
To have and enact toward
Making
Co-making
Preferable peace
While there is tragedy enough
To go around
And so we could better have
Some peace
All around
And celebrate the life
On planet Earth
That we were creditworthy
And talented enough
To prepare for
Meeting needs
And taking care
Of everyone
In all our seasons
All our quarter-spheres
Everything I am
Without pay
To take care of you
And you
All the yous
(youse, y’ins I know
for fun)
Human and natural
All the (as in eyes)
I-s
Which don’t you know
Make an us
And let what’s been a curse
Become a motto and
Of course
As in
A matter of our course
A global challenge
C L Couch
Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash
Jurassic Pet
Mom
I’ve got
To walk
The dinosaur
She’s not hungry
Anymore
(don’t look for the
other pets)
And she drank a lot
Too
(mess on the kitchen floor
sorry)
I think I’ll name
Her Lovey
Like another castaway
On
Repeat TV
See you later
Mom
Because
I think she’s walking
Me
Mom
(from inside)
Wait
Take your father
(from inside)
What
C L Couch
based on Melissa Lemay’s photo prompt at https://melissalemay.wordpress.com/2024/04/29/melissas-fandango-flash-fiction-challenge-266/, more specifically on reading Grace’s response at https://graceofthesun.com/unusual-companion/
Photo [on this page] by Samuel Scrimshaw on Unsplash
The Prophet in the Last Days
I don’t know how to be at peace this
Side of the grave
Plus
I don’t know what happens
Over there
Everything I’ve tried has
Collapsed
Or imploded into war
It doesn’t help that I’m poor
Disabled
Older
All good reasons for society to render me
Invisible
What do I deserve
But nothing
Even less
Patronized at best
Cheated some
More
At worst
Well
Killed
At worst
I guess
Though it can happen by small
Accumulating
Wounds
As is
What shall I do
Who may I be
Where is the substance for the inside and
The outside
Which
I may not know and certainly not have to
Taste and see
Before the end
And so live
Frustrated
Hurt
The bleeding never over
And never having anything like
Peace prevailed
C L Couch
Photo by Irham Setyaki on Unsplash
troubadour
the scribe would write
holy
the troubadour
should
sing
everything
and should they be the same
they never were
so who wrote the epics
in between
that sometimes sound like holy wit
for
wisdom
and for warning
and come across for pleasure
in
the meeting place
long house
or
fires outside
in each season
when
and where
words shall save
for
entertainment
frankly
plus in telling
or implying
our own gospel
and will you come again
tomorrow
I must be on the way
to the next
place
where is the next place
stay for one more night so
we may sadly
tell you
the next morning
you are kind
for an audience
I shall stay
and gladly so
and so
the word got out through these
the news
rumors of news
what
to be ready for
at home
because of what’s developing
out there
and then
a song with verse
that has no meaning
and then
a song with verse
that has
a good night
for all our sakes
into
our heaven
hope for heaven
wills
tomorrow
by your leave
and mine
and God’s own
c l couch
photo by zibik on Unsplash
and do we teach or simply learn to learn
clear
and clean
the page
well
add some “enter”
spaces
and go on
and what shall I
say cleanly
what is clean
and what
is clear
clear-headedness
we say
we don’t say
clear-heartedness
so much
well
maybe not at all
‘til now
and maybe
neither
is achievable
maybe
reality
keeps something of
complexity
even the fog
that moves between
the pieces
making questionable connections
because
there’s synapse
circulation
and
what shall we say
a web made out of
heartstrings
sigh
and there are
other things
the messages
and wearing off
of institutions
nearby
somewhere
and what
we might become
and freedom
calls
like bird-calls
(made by birds)
such as
the lonely
sadly
call of loons
out of the morning mist
both over water
and there are loves
other
attachments
we are both with
that we choose
that come to us
through reading
conversation
or some other
leading dialogue
like Socrates
we set
as our own method
or influenced by
the schools
of everything
we have attended
attending
also meaning
service
as in waiting
and there is waiting
as in
we wait for something
after we rise
and while we work
we look around
with every sense
we count
and cannot count
for we don’t understand
anything like
totality
of learning
and retention
and also of
discovery
that flows between the banks
of stultification on one side
creative shouting on the other
with places
to pull over
though we don’t set these
and must wait
for certain rituals
to hear them
see them
and take up
our crafts of exploration
for a while
it’s like we’re on the move
and consider cells
that are in movement
all the time
the turn of Earth
and the ringed nature
of the cosmos
also with
the turn of us
through moments
and through years
and just the same
the stillness
that we have
is honest
when we choose that hour
wish for that style
to achieve
and then to practice
with a kind
(with lapses)
of lasting
ever
I can stop for now
the part of me that stops
that is
that pauses
and refreshes
like a soda-pop
or tapas
with sangria
bread and wine
for ritual
and meaning
on our own
and especially
in community
because
alone is not so hopeful
as in useful
for philosophy
so write with me
and talk
and
yes
talk among yourselves
for there’s not test
and is no cheating
not for this
the examination
of a universe
of
circled possibilities
and
yes
we’re on our own
also together
don’t forget
c l couch
photo by Mackenzie Marco on Unsplash
Theology for Anyone
Too many things
To think about
What is
Simply
Out there
Anymore
What might be simple
First
In here
And show the way
The poet
(I have mentioned this)
Taught me about the Amish
Person
Who was asked
Are you saved to heaven
To which
The faithful person said
I hope so
Not doubting so much
As to be humble
And to be prodded
All the time
To serve
And remember who is
Served
And what did
Jesus say
About the sheep
But
You may come in
For helping me
Because
I was the thirsty
And the naked
And the lonely
While you goats
(poor goats
for a metaphor)
Must stay outside
And go to
Frankly
An awful place
Or maybe
Nothing
Philosophically
Simply enough
Perhaps
That is
Live well
And for each other
And who is my neighbor
But
Anyone in
Need
While we have the means
And typically we have
To use
Help each other
Which I guess means
Take the help
As well
Simple enough
C L Couch
(Matthew 25:31–46)
Photo by Nandhu Kumar on Unsplash
help the goats, too
How to Go to the New World
(either way)
I still don’t know what
To say to you
Today
I mean
This is me
And I don’t know
Not knowing
Words
And something of their use
Often
Re-rendered
When conscripted
Into verse
Or let the message
Be a branch
Or bird
Inside the tree
Or something of the sun
Through clouds
Below
Leaving a gospel
In a shadow
But something new
Or affirming
Something old
Or even ancient
Like virtue
And its complement
Of rules
We take for argument
From Greeks
Who took things
From Egyptians
Then both subsumed
By Rome
And so
What’s happening
In Asia
All the while
And then the holy
And the Roman
Christians
Establish empire
Where for eons
There had been those
Who fought
And
Dwelled
Expanded and
Diminished
On their own
To have the only world
They knew
And it was vast
More than enough
Until the white gods
Came
The devils
To deceive us
A whole world
For its varied understanding
Of
The way things go
And on another side
How seasons
Turn
To go another way
And so subvert
The growing year
Of Gregory
So much
So many
To have touched
On so few
And in one time
And so
Move forward
When complexities
Are
Rife with
Differences
Agendas
Styles
And signals
Of the fear of the unknown
Toward other people
In the shadows
From our light
Whose singularity
Makes others
Fearsome in the dark
That we have made
Much darker
Not
To behold
Their part
In the same light
We could tone down ourselves
And so inquire
Of the ones
We do not know
But could
In openness
And inquiry
The way we learned research
In school
Before the grown-ups interests
And fear for profit
Took us over
We could learn to love
The differences
As might have been
Our first impressions
When meeting
As children
Invested by impulse
With curiosity
And let the world change
With our acquaintance
Let everyone be different
Just a little
For having met
With outstretched hand
Empty for introduction
While the other hand
At our side
Is open
Too
With honesty
Allowed to gain
Through inquiry
And
Once permitted
Exploration
C L Couch
Photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
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