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While Rhapsodizing Feeling Sick Today

(x = space)

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While Rhapsodizing Feeling Sick Today

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I woke up sick

The kind of sick

That barely functions

For the rest

I got up

Moved around

Which made me feel

How sick I am

Sinuses rebelling

They really want to be

Somewhere else

Elysia

Or another

Warmer, health-filled

Paradise

Knots at the base of my neck

I can feel them

Protesting

On both sides

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I was feeling better

Going in

All right, it was too late

But thanks to stress and pain

I do not sleep well

Until I do

Hours into night

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Poor me

It is not war

There are no explosions

Nearby

Well, except the cosmic kind

Neighborly

Like protesting planets

Yearning to be heard

Across space

And time

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So visual

Aural

Also abstract

Where is the peace

The pastor observed

There is no peace on Earth

But then were heard

The bells

Calling, winter bells

Across amazing stillness

Unanticipating

x

Surprising health

Surprising

On the Earth

Healing

Miracle

And grace

x

It’s doesn’t matter

Call it magic

Call it autonomic

Say that tokens

And mixtures

Brought it on

x

What’s in a name

Or sometimes an object

x

then

x

Mass shooting at a birthday party

Who needs to feel sick

Who needs a war across the world

This is the news

After the commercial

They’ll say something

While I’m drafting

When I’m feeling miserable already

Though this really

Is misery

And is there so much cheating

So much money

To say these losses

By unploughshared arms

Are worth it

Is one worth it

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They smile because

It’s the bottom of the hour

And ratings needs

Need

To drag us along

Here is the weather

x

But what about the war

The war there

The war at home

More than drives for

Domestic supplies

x

Back to the hunt

It’s in our networks

Sweet sixteen

Down South

It could happen anywhere

It’s happening anywhere

Shall we outlaw crowds

All assemblies

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Welcome the dead home

Heal the living

Maybe I’ve had enough

For a while

We’ve had enough

x

Beck and call

Wanting to run away

Forgetting to think about

Where we’d go

Look at the maps

They should down here

Up there

Like those who school

For home

And back because

They can’t stand one place

Or the other

(ask the poets)

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There is no final

Summation

No lesson from

A kind man in a chair

We can look instead

At the booked as in books

Set

To leave it empty

The upholstered chairs

While we’re open

To ideas

x

Let’s be open

Maybe it’s time

For something old

Like virtue

Or something new

Like voyages

To Mars

x

I’m done now

Suffering succotash

For sinuses

Your turn

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C L Couch

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Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

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two brief poems, unrelated (well)

(x = space)

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two brief poems, unrelated (well)

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Spirited

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What shall God

Have for us today?

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A new assignment?

x

A day to read up

Instead?

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A list of prayer so long

Indeed

x

Indeed

We’ll need the day,

Its focused energy for

Intercessions?

x

A day to encounter

Creation

Specially,

To consider all the wonder

And to play?

x

Or this day

Might be a day

Like all days

To love God and each other,

Not a suggestion

Or an option

But direction

Limited by human will

Alone

x

Though

Admittedly

As people in the world

With

Myriad possibilities

There are days

When it’s hard

Or when it’s easier

To love

x

Which might be why

There’s both

Expression

And redemption

Available

At will

All the time

x

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At the Bottom of the Hour

x

Could we do the news

In halves

So that

There’s bad followed by

As much good?

x

The readers

And

The ratings

Would be fine

x

We sponsor and produce as if

We believe

Good is automatic

While bad

Is creative

And so (bad) more attention-worthy

x

Though

The presumption is

Ironically

Disingenuous;

We know

By now

That bad is not

Exceptional

And good could stand more press

x

So by halves

Coverage of good and bad

(for some reason

in

the discourse

bad then good),

Well,

It would not be

(hah)

So bad

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

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2 disclosing pieces

(x = space)

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2 disclosing pieces

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In the Mood

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I am not sure what

To say

I never am

There is an empty page

(there you are)

I look away sometimes

Then start to write

I say

What there is to say

My mind is on God

And hoping

Frankly

For a good day

In all persons

I and you and we

And shall God give us (all)

A good day

Or something like

Often the wish is

To have the means

To get through

The bad

The means material

And abstract

Miracles

Would be gladly received

Material and abstract

Material would mean

What

Money

Treasure in the cave

Or sometimes simply

(miraculously)

A way out

While abstract is a good thought

A steady faith the medium

For good thoughts

Hope

How about

Dealing here not there

Founding philosophies

Of virtue

Values

(life has value)

Everything based on a directive

To

Love and be loved

Meaning

And gratitude

And when everything is wrecked

What seems what must be

The chance for living well

Living at all

Around us

Or inside us

Due to wrecks

Outside inside

Inside outside

War and the fear of war

Fire

Ruined ground

Where there was verdure

Even where we used to live

Our habitats

Are gone

With how we thought

To be social

To be at all well-knit inside

There are wounds

With the pain and stress

In healing, too

The burdens and ennui

Of getting by

At best

When we need something better

In both places

External

And internal

Grant us peace

Grant us hope

Grant us enough satiation

We could day

This day was gratefully asked for

And received

Thank you

Divinity

Each other

And ourselves

x

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A String of Pearls

x

For me when I was young

A horn was

Chosen

For me by someone

Who

Merely looked

At my lips

x

Whose sound

(the horn)

I liked

But did not to play

Success was only in first chair (first)

Driven to drive

And park there,

Which I did

I could have been

First second

Or given up

Not bothered in the first place

Maybe piano

Sung instead

Once I discovered these

And then for me

The joy in conducting

x

I could have compromised

With the world

Stayed quiet

When

Go noisy

When not

Stopped being told to settle down

As if Greeley were talking to

A young man in the east

Contemplating west

x

I could have had

A few things that I liked

Not so many things

That broke too easily

Things

Of all kinds

Or I could have learned more

Experimented

With taking parts of things I had

To meld

Them into the new and odd

Setting an eccentric path

On which I find

Or receive

Pieces on the way

Look, feel

For beauty in what’s there

What might be the possibilities

In new combinations

New whole things

x

Had I adolesced this way

I’d be on a weird way,

I suppose

Accepted enough by the world

With all my second places

On a creative way

Releasing rock

You know

From the unformed statue

Or other work

For senses

And appreciation

x

Thanks

How about

Safe drinks all around

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C L Couch

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Photo by Marin Tulard on Unsplash

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titles of Big Band songs made popular by Glenn Miller (Glenn Miller and His Orchestra)

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The Mix of Faith for Heaven

(x = space)

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The Mix of Faith for Heaven

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It is a mystery

And paradox

Thoughts

And feelings

Words for the hearts

Of millions

By each heart

Pierced

As a rule

x

Gospel for everyone

For one

For no one

‘Til engaging

We read

We hear

Interpret

(we’re allowed)

Good news about God

Having been

Set down

By people

In relationship

With God’s spirit

Making a kind

Of ersatz scribe

According to

The world’s

Expectations

x

Die to live

Love and take the hit

Joy in

Hard labor

Even for one’s enemies

The world wins

But does not really

Heaven after the end

And peace

Now

And forever

x

Though

In this life

Our flaws remain

And trip us up

And bring us down

And we

Are blamed

We blame ourselves

Though

Grace and mercy

Should attend,

Which is the holy law

But

Civilities

Must have their way

They often damn us

Excoriate

Our chances for changes

From

The first

After transgressions

x

Sigh,

Too many contradictions

Living near each other

In fact

Embracing

Over, under

Anywhere the breastplate says

For reassurance

x

A life of faith

Is hard

Easy

Soft

Rigid

Impossible

Demanded

Eternal

Fleshly

In each moment

Cells sloughed off

Like sin

Perhaps revealing

Virtue

In redemption

Should anyone on Earth

Have care

To notice

This

And those

While on Earth

Then disappear

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C L Couch

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Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

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Dance Again

(x = space)

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Dance Again

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What shall I do today?

Well,

There are things

How is your day

So far?

I hope it’s good

You should have a good day

And another

They should string along

Like lights above the porch

Because

There’s a party

An accumulation

Friends

Good food, good things to drunk

When we’re a little tired

We’ll sit

Under the lights

Under a combing of the stars

Pushed closer

Just for us

Your day should promise

All of this

And more, of course

i don’t know exactly what

Is on your list

Or if that matters

Gifts are free

And you should have this day

Like a gift

The cost of grace

Yes, spiritually

Maybe a bit in style

Good things for free

Good day

Good day

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

[photographer’s story] Whilst I was taking this picture opposite Saint Paul’s in London, a few people stopped to ask if I was a paparazzi and if I was taking a picture of someone famous. This made me chuckle!

[maybe we could all meet there]

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Bad Day at Third Rock

(x = space)

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Bad Day at Third Rock

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Today there is a war

People try to live

Without attention

To or from

The state

x

There is a wildfire

Eruptions from volcanos

Storms rage

Earth splits

As if on revenging

Or indifference

x

There is

Addiction

Other ways we live

As if to self-destruct

Like the tapes

That were for our

Entertainment

About

Impossible missions

x

Jobs are taken out

They were useful

Now they’re gone

We get divorced

From each other

As if the vows

Were not thought out the first time

And now we know

x

And there is everything

We know is inexorable

It comes on

They come on

x

All these things

All these sad things

Most of which

Destroy

And all wound

x

The apologist might be right

To say

We live in land overrun

And occupied by the enemy

x

Princes of this world

Maybe princesses

Though give credit to the

Insight

When some women lead

Thinking of Deborah

And Judith

And the chairs

Of my departments

x

The world must be more

Than all the burning

And explosiveness

Literal to Earth

Or invoked too much by hell

Inside the human heart

x

Live more

Legislate, perhaps

Consider how extreme

The campaigns

Or the intimacy

In destruction

x

Renew

Repair

Like people

Learn to know

How we are likable

‘Cause we are

x

Give Earth a chance

And when it fails

Negotiate

Again

And do the same

For humankind

Fix things

And then

Consider less addition

For the second changes

Barring

You know

Those commandments

And redemption

Even so

Give us a chance

And the cosmos

In turn

Might welcome us

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C L Couch

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(citations)

C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

1 Corinthians 2:6,8

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Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

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Stellar Navigation

(x = space)

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Stellar Navigation

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Rituals

We’ve had a lot of them

My ritual

Un-sacrosanct

Involves the toaster

And the order

Of the bread

To place in

And to withdraw

After toasting twice

(the machine isn’t equanimous

enough to toast it right

one time)

What kind of bread took

Time

And what to have on it

Peanut butter on

My own feast days

But without the added sugar

As narration claims

Simply

What it is

Or purported to be

x

I’m still working on the coffee

Both kind and

How much

You see,

I was given the K machine

And it’s fun and all

But I am a neophyte with it

Unready for the morning

Table crew

Thankful for the automatic

Shut-off

x

I do respect the big things

But live nearer

The small things like

Snow villages

And for

Later tide as time

(Advent first)

Learning from

My mother how

To make the bunny cake

With cardboard ears

For Easter

x

But exhalation

After holidays

And maybe what’s holy

In between,

Which is

Most days

Perhaps

And with

Small-s sacred reasoning

As in creation’s

And redemption’s

Legacy

And with

Secular reckoning

For reality,

x

Which might explain

Hot fingers

(without the invocation)

With results

In our suburban-sacramental

Tussles with appliances

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Joakim Honkasalo on Unsplash

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Easter’s Earth

(x = space)

x

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Easter’s Earth

x

Named for not a Christian

Deity

And time

Much of the day

Is gone by now

(3:25)

This writing before tea

Perhaps

While the day began with vigils

Counting down to midnight

(the first moment)

x

Around the world

Was meat and bread

And wine

Prepared

With paintings and statues

As if prepared for ages

To remember

To celebrate

To be moved in other ways

Creation solemnized

While we keep these

From war

x

And there so many wondrous ways

To have God

To know God

And to respect God

And each other

Every day

In our day when

We know something of annihilation

This might be

The best lesson

Yet

(now)

Of all lessons

In curricula

x

And loving our neighbors

We might even take a hit

On ourselves

To have it in the world

x

Though

You know

We have to have it

If only to receive it

For the part

Of world peace

Via the golden

And the fleshly

Circulatory rule

x

Have Easter then

With joy

Passover

Ramadan

Diwali when it happens

(Holi, too)

And days of consciousness

Rising and aligned

With thoughts and awareness

In a living cosmos

x

Let peace be universal

Let’s keep our hands off the buttons

Then destroy the buttons

Recycling them

For benches

The metal of our missiles

Into ploughshares

The paper of our manuals

Into better books

By libraries

x

Yes,

With all better qualities

And efforts

Well

We should not be stupid

Everything must happen

All around

Not only in showy places

But where some think

They’re hidden,

Too

x

We’re smart

We must be practical

Do you not know

That God

Is smart

And practical as well?

And love has merit

And is the better process

Everywhere

x

Easter rising

Let the world

With other names

Be rising,

Too

x

Call this respect

Call it withholding

Call it practical

Prosperity

Call it today

And when we think of it

Or must plan for it

Also tomorrow

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Ukrainian Pysanky Egg // Pysanky (meaning “to write”) is an ancient egg art with origins in Ukraine and surrounding regions. Each egg is a unique handmade treasure, where beeswax and dyes are used repeatedly in the creation. Once the wax is melted away, the amazing design is revealed. Many pray while writing pysanky — please take a moment to pray for Ukraine as you read this. // Each egg was designed by Davonne Souza — Etsy.com/shop/EggspressionsByDavon

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no commission, I simply like the storytelling—Happy Easter!

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first holy saturday

(x = space)

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first holy saturday

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it seems there’s nothing

but a void

after which is fear

there could be doubt

but what is left

to believe in

first

x

the body’s cared for

there’s the irony of a guard

to keep things safe

while making sure

we don’t get in

to take him

x

so what is left

but us

and an enormous world

ready to quash us

and to take our air

our allotment of

anything

allowed

x

we have gone too far

they’ll say

but we have killed the head

and now the serpent

body dies

and we shall have it

or leave it

shriveling in the shadows

or bring it to the light

to finish

dessication

and metaphors aside

we mean you

and to have you

x

your paltry movement

and there are many crosses

provided by the Romans

and the Greeks

and Egyptians

before

x

you are done

we shall have you

you are annihilated

not even space on Earth

shall have you

x

we can delight

considering

a line of graves

underneath the field

that we buy

with the silver

Judas has returned

x

well

not well

and so we hide

small care for each other

we dare to send for food

and prepare it

without fire

to share it in the dark

x

these are holy hours

we try

to pay attention

x

some count the hours

most of us

cannot do

something so constructive

x

it is finished

last words

we heard them

so did they

we wait for

we don’t know what

we have forgotten all the miracles

and all of what was said

to go with them

x

we hide

and that’s the hell of it

as it seems

that hell has won

x

2

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there is the edge

of a hole

through which we see

what we have been taken from

and shall we try

to return

a circle

an eye

we hurt

wait, an eye

who sees

we see

does God look at us

or Rome

or the Sanhedrin

x

how can God look

God died yesterday

we saw

we heard

and it is terrible

but there’s nothing more

even from the cross

were the words

that it is finished

x

we can’t even wait

we can count the hours

but there’s nothing there

there is grief

the rightness of it

rituals

for a while

x

but then there’s nothing left

we are ridiculed

then captured

captured and then ridiculed

when it’s safe

when we are bound

bound perhaps

to crosses of our own

x

why do we even have

this day

it is a holy day

so to say

holy hours

holy minutes

x

if yesterday

had been the day

if the cross beam was

a blooded lintel

then the deadly angel

missed

or misread

and took

the righteous

anyway

against the plan

x

but it’s not fair

to miscast angels

who are commanded

by a God

who let

if not arranged for

all of this

and now has disappeared

gone to Sheol

though how can God

wait for God

x

there are no answers

only rumors

that we cannot hear

the world has closed us off

in here

and we will not snipe

or bear false hope

or cheat

material truth

x

while we are waiting

worse than that

having nothing

to wait for

x

we mourn

we cannot look

or look

taste and see

we miss our God

we were friends of God

for a little while

x

we are lost

after our paroxysms

maybe we

catch our breath a little

and shall we go where

we proclaimed it long ago

that without God

there is nowhere

the nowhere of the Sadducees

maybe

x

but on to night

and after night

not daylight

but a void

judgment perhaps

but what could we have done

when we were told

what we were told

x

friendship for hours only

new love

and now

it’s as if creation

matter

molecules

might as well

have never happened

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Filip Kominik on Unsplash

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