(x = space)
x
x
A Child’s Precocious Prayer
x
Help me
To be good;
Help me to be good
Again,
When I am bad.
x
Keep my family safe,
And show up
More
When we are not.
x
Help your poor world
To be rich,
Because you give us everything,
And we should share.
x
C L Couch
x
x
The Moon and a Tree
Photo by Andy Henderson on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
We Prayed Today
x
“Today is a privilege” she said she’d
Embroider on a pillow
And on the other side, “I’m still
Breathing”
Because for all the despondence,
The despair we take to prayer
In our group,
There is beauty and joy
And so much to love
In fact, it’s what we love that turns
That often
Leads us to prayer
Compels us
We pray for the good things, too,
Wanting the goodness
We pray over cherishing the messed-up
World we have
And the messed-up lives we care for
And our own
We say amen
Knowing it’s never
The end
And we say thank you
With intention
We mean it
We are grateful
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by KARTIK GADA on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
In My Father’s Now-and-Then Kitchen
(and backyard)
x
My father could cook many things
Well, six things
The rest were disasters
Like shipwrecks on rocks
On waiting shores
x
He could make—combine,
Stir, apply, bake—apple pie
He taught me how to have
Cheddar cheese with that
x
He could make blackberry cobbler
Blackberries, maybe, because of
Growing up
In Olympia
Where there were
Berry trees and bushes in abundance
Real crust (back to the cobbler)
Made from many ingredients
The right amount of sweet and salt
To savor
x
He could make bean soup
Ham and bone kept from another meal
Beans soaked for days
It seems
He might have made the cornbread
That came with it
Maybe my mom made that
x
Have I got to six?
Well, he could grill adept
If maybe nothing challenging
The usual suburban fare
Meat and vegetables
I’m a plebe
I like hamburgers
I was satisfied
x
My mother cooked everything else
Too bad you can’t taste
Her corned beef with cabbage
Carrots and potatoes
With the cornbread
(Southern)
That she made
x
I can’t taste it anymore
For many years
Except to remember
I’ve found nothing close to hers
In waking time,
Since
Sigh
x
What else my father cooked
Was awful
(shapeless shapes
on plates)
He was the only one
To eat those things
He made
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Daniel Gamez on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
poems about early life
x
x
around the green S chair
(Rick and me)
x
there was an S chair
green, upholstered
with that kind of hard,
bumpy brocade that was
uncomfortable
kept in the basement
and there were other things
as basements tend to have
and around the chair
and through the other things
there was an oval
made that we would run,
my older brother and I,
while the Three Stooges
ran on television
and we ran in opposite directions
to each other, and when
we passed each other
we would whoop in high-pitched
voices like the
Stooges whom we thought
must be having fun
in black and white
as we were
around the green S chair
and everything else
pushed to one or the other
in the basement
x
x
a child’s Sunday night
x
everything was difficult
except sometimes on Sunday night
when we were downstairs
after baths or showers
pajamaed, robed
slippers over wrinkly toes
the TV set warmed up
Disney about to start
x
x
the younger ones on Friday night
x
on Friday nights
we often would
gather ‘round the kitchen table
with popcorn
and malted, chocolate candy
playing The Game of Life
sometimes Careers
we were taught Rook
the Southern person’s bridge
x
we played many games
and were okay
as long as my dad was winning
x
x
I never sang for my father
x
my dad took it on himself
to ridicule me
so that he might look bigger
somehow
whatever is in the mind
of the bully
I don’t know if that worked
inside
for him
while inside of me
as you might expect
there was resentment
and it grew
I had to win
and when I did,
I no longer cared
there was next to nothing there
and in the nothing
no relationships
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
I Never Sang for My Father is the name of a play and a film.
x
Photo by Amanda Jones on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Doggone Dog-Here Dog Days
x
Dog days
For dogs
Cat days are every day
To cats
Winter might have dog days
But the famous days are
Summer
When it’s late
And there are days of heat
And humidity
When dogs are famous for
Lying down,
Stretched out on boards
Of Southern porches
While the humans
Sip up lemonade
And talk
About the weather
x
n.b. for humans
x
Keep water close by
And bring them in from
The heat
When you go in
Keeping in mind
That they’re your friends
And mine
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash x
x
(x = space)
x
x
We Didn’t Know Who You Was
(Christmas Eve)
x
Let’s not slice it to death
This time
Let’s simply have observances
Let all the contradictions go
We know there’s folklore involved,
Which should fascinate
x
There was such darkness
At hand
Of one kind or another
Of the past, of
The present
Lack of awareness
Of the import of events;
Only to the players
Did things matter,
They in acts
No one to put it all together until Luke
And a little bit in Matthew and in John
x
Prophets old and new
We have to say
Knew and know some measure
Of the meaning
Of it all
They are extracted
And we read them, too
x
Such dulled and slow senses
Sometimes history goes that way
Sometimes it’s spiritual
The people walked in darkness
There might be other forces, too,
To keep us from the light
x
But it is there
The birth is there
Incarnation as a doctrine
Thought some of it at least
Might have been as any birth
A baby in the world
This one in a cave
And that’s unusual
And all around
The mystery
The strangeness
There was adventure in the sky
And from some people
Who in an iron empire
Chose to dedicate another lord,
Another life to follow
x
The child is God
But who knew that?
Mary and Joseph
Angels
And the magi knew something
While the shepherds were told something
As good news
This is the messiah!
Who really understood?
How could a baby save the world
Who is not Caesar
With family, tutors, strategists
Sheltered behind stone walls,
Armies out front
That keep the world
For them?
x
Well, other parts conspired
Into a birth, a life
That through faith
And later patchwork
Yielded doctrine
And a way
The people of the way
x
As on that night
(let’s call it a night)
There would be amazement
There would be awful things as well
But wonder now
And wonder later on
And with us, still
x
Praise God, for God is good
God is love
God is a spirit
Who wonders now
And offers light inside the darkness,
The kind of darkness that is not
Romantic but it
Stultifies and kills
x
Believe the child
Humbly, take the child in
To dwell with you
Maybe like a foundling, at the start,
Then as a teacher
And a savior
And a temple of salvation
In the city of God
(new heaven)
And on God’s free land
(new Earth)
Forever
x
Sweet, little Jesus child,
They made you be born in a manger;
Sweet, little holy child,
We didn’t know who you was.
x
Didn’t know you’d come to save us, Lord,
To take our sins away:
Our eyes was blind, we could not see;
We didn’t know who you was.
x
We didn’t know who you was
Maybe we should have
Maybe we can, now,
And into new ages
Love revealed
Prophecy fulfilled
The child grows up
We grow up
x
And for this night we way
Welcome to the world, child,
And everything that starts
Now
x
C L Couch
x
x
could be a choral or a choir reading
x
“Sweet, Little Jesus Child” is a song of African American origin. The precise source is unknown, and there are variants and variations.
x
This is the third in a creative, liturgical series for Advent and Christmas. The other two parts are the last two days’ posts. I think I’ll work on something else now.
x
Photo by Agung Raharja on Unsplash
x
I’ve been having trouble with WordPress. I can’t leave comments on your pages. I get an “error” block that tells me to go back and when I do I still get the “error” block. I don’t know if anyone has experienced this. Maybe the problem is with my computer. Frustrating!
This won’t fix the problem and doesn’t really address it; but if want to get in touch with me (especially while I’m not able to reach you via the blog), you may use my e-mail address, clcouch17055@gmail.com.
CLC
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
In Darkness
x
A child is born
Into this?
How cruel
Such cruelty
If God should call this down
A child of God
(a child?)
Then why not to cushions
In a palace
For a start?
Why not with special parents
In a prominent family?
Why not with
Advisors and with teachers
Frankly, generals
Standing,
Kneeling
By?
Why not with a well-known name
Conveying might
Mixed with celebrity?
x
Bethlehem?
There are two such places
You are inviting debate
And neither is a capital
An important place
For births
Unless by the mother stopped
By happenstance
On the way to Jerusalem
Or Rome
Somewhere we can argue is
The center of the world
Where we can triumph
(two drum beats)
Where are the triumphs?
x
Where are the angels
(bells)
Well, there are
The angels
We are frightened
They say
Don’t be afraid
(we are afraid)
Tidings,
Good news?
To our cynic selves we know
There is never good news
x
And who are the shepherds?
Smelly men
Who should be outside town
Yet they pass us by
With purpose
What?
Where?
x
Bethlehem, again
And we people of the world
Maybe we should follow
x
Or, you know,
We could wait for the news
When it’s official
The sky is dark again
With normal night
We have two years
And more,
Should something else
Happen
(two drum beats, bells)
x
C L Couch
x
x
A companion piece to yesterday’s. Another one tomorrow—there you will have a trilogy of liturgy for Advent and Christmas Eve. Or for some other reason. Or for none. Note this verse has sound effects. They can be left out, I’m sure.
CLC
x
Photo by Lasse Møller on Unsplash
x
The People Walked
x
God announces
God’s own birth
An absurdity of prophecy
Things bang together
Light good
Dark bad
(for now
for often dark is good)
People in darkness
Who understands?
God is coming
But God is here
God has been here
From the start
Before the start
God was
And is
And shall be
And now, what,
A child?
A virgin birth,
Come on
x
A working together
Of generations,
Places
So that everything
Comes together
Complements
Too much
It is too much
You try the words too much
The documents are old
And sacrosanct
We keep them in a temple
Leave them be
What we believe
Is in the temple
Leave it be
We sacrifice flora and fauna
We dedicate
Our children
We don’t need another child
Or of such scandal
Leave us be
x
We are specific
We are everyone
(analogous)
We have freedom
In measure
We hate the other measure
But taxes
And armies
Are the world
It could be worse
It has been worse
We plot
Inside the darkness
In our own planning time
As we say,
Leave us be
x
So God is coming
And it’s taken centuries
Ages, if we count
From the beginning
And before
The God who answered nothing
With creation
And now a child
Without instruction
For our training
As a Caesar
(any Caesar)
This is too much
We have our own children
And for Caesar
Charges and complaints
From Spain and France
Morocco, Egypt
To Iraq and Israel
Rumors in Russia, India, and
China
All the world
x
Everywhere
And everywhere we know
Is burden
Don’t weigh us down with more
Words and promises
And obligations
Expectations
You expect us to believe?
Unlikely
x
C L Couch
x
x
I don’t know how I got to thinking about Christmas while summer is hot on. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, though I like the seasons as they happen. Maybe I need a charge of faith, like a CO2 cartridge making soda pop in the soda fountain. Maybe I need some soda pop. Maybe I’m preparing what might seem way ahead for liturgies in Advent (the good news and the difficult). Or maybe a little future holiday (of any number of holidays) is okay for the present, that is, right now.
x
Photo by Alistair MacRobert on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Hebrews 12
x
it’s all right to run a race
it’s all right to win
it’s all right not to win,
which happens to most
in the experience
x
it’s all right to want a prize
running a race is hard
not to mention training
and practicing
your prize is in heaven
might not sound good enough
not satisfying
but it’s true
there is a prize for each of us
for all of us
by heaven
x
keep running
yes, with discipline
also with rest
and if possible
with joy,
Mister Liddell
x
C L Couch
x
x
(photo by) KarlGaff – own work, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=113379539
x
clcouch123 
Recent Comments