clcouch123

Armistice

Armistice

A hundred years ago

Europe was ablaze

An awful fire, open-pit

Like southern

Soldier picking

North Africa, western Asia

Cut into with blunt

European, Turkish knives

As if

The lands were

Burnt meat

Now the USA is adding

Fuel to the fire

My grandfather a soldier-stick

Serving with muscle and courage

And fear

(I’m guessing about the fear, for I never

Saw if in him)

Then all elevens,

And it’s over: fire tamped

Ashes rising, setting on new ground

Of anger and reparation

Peace rendered ironic

Buckets of grave dirt

Thrown against

Walls of retribution

Against which

New shadows will rise

C L Couch

(National Geographic Society)

November 11, 2017 1

Piece Meal

Piece Meal

What shall I

Write about this morning?

Isn’t there enough

Death through violence

That I don’t have to record, about which

Not to comment?

What good is there in

The world happening today?

I have little, maybe some, doubt it’s there:

Someone has given

Something and didn’t have to give it;

Somewhere a treaty’s

Being signed

That will mean an end to

Trouble in

The hope for something solider than war that

Feeds and builds.

Somewhere someone is kind

Enough to garden in

The mind,

Cultivate the spirit and the moment

When, created in the mood of God we

We were given parts;

Pangloss is wrong—we must

Guard each other’s.

C L Couch

November 7, 2017 0

Congress

Congress

(visiting a beach in NC)

Topsail

I’m pretending that the air is

Ionized

And that it’s good for me

Up-and-over steps, across the dune

Down to the sand

A public access, though

There are only a few people here today

Some dogs

But all the birds

Are meeting

Fish and trash on the agenda

I have nothing for them so

They fly from me

Disdain

I pick up shells and stones

Some with rough edges

Some worn smooth through the refinement

Of the sea

Together we show

Large and small

Nature’s power

C L Couch

(photo credit, http://www.treasurerealty.com/uploads/TopsailBeach_OceanView.jpg)

November 7, 2017 1

canonized

canonized

(days for all saints)

a process for remembering

those who live the

faith

in a church that is

a canticle of memory

who slips out, unseen

after the formal part is

done

to work a holy thing that

none of us will

know

there is a record, maybe

doesn’t matter

we sense without consciousness

that something good

happened

and there will be re-collecting

of it in the sharing of

all our legacies

C L Couch

November 2, 2017 5

Cat People

Cat People

I don’t know why we like

To change or stay the same

Is it up to us

As a campaign?—when

Burdened, yes, when

Abused of

Our better parts and

Aspirations

(Or maybe because we bug the

Hell out

Of those around

Us, and they’re right)

Otherwise, doesn’t the universe

Offer instinct-movement in

Gravity

And the attraction or, admittedly,

Repulsion of

Black holes and

Neutron stars?

And all the turning elements

That ask of us to

Dance if possible with joy,

Day by day,

(And anyway)

With all the nuclei?

Like felines who jump across

The yard or run the

House

Because they can

Because the gods of catliness

Say cats must—

And don’t they want to!

C L Couch

November 1, 2017 0

The Girl Who Died

The Girl Who Died

It is a miracle we live

On an Earth that cares

When we only allow

Worst magics

Against the planet’s will

Her inclination toward

Sunlit food and love

We counter God

And all the better parts

Because we must have this or that

The blood on it

To ignore

Or kept there as an eldritch

Badge

An accomplishment that only demons

Cannot ignore

At judgment

C L Couch

THE HORRIFYING DEATH OF A SYRIAN INFANT UNDERSCORES THE BRUTALITY OF ASSAD’S SIEGE WARFARE “Sahar Dofdaa lived a tragically short and painful life. With sunken eyes and frail, protruding bones, the famished infant hardly stood a chance. Trapped in a Syrian conflict zone, her mother was too malnourished to breastfeed, and her father too impoverished to afford milk supplements.” [HuffPost]

October 26, 2017 3