Still Christmas in Berlin
No romance for the moment
Christ child forgotten
In the press of madness and of stirring
Grief
To complement the cowardice in Nice
Undeclared, ununiformed men
Who know no better
Than to render a cause stupid
And larcenous
Stealing life from love
The gospel of the season
That will outlast you
C L Couch
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/19/world/europe/berlin-christmas-market-truck-crash.html?_r=0
The End of the Story
My Pittsburgh neighborhood of Aleppo
Is dying
The last reports are terrors
Military action lost strategically
To killing
Civilians who lived there only
Or came to help the ones already wounded
Final words are spoken through
Electrons, visiting upon the world
The revulsion of the void
Of life, which is all that is
Increasing here
Wait, my mistake, it’s Aleppo
In Syria
The first city
Still dying, still dead
Still a message to those of us
Who read and pray
And politic and must go on
The last Marx brother
In a raucous comedy turned horror story
Convicted, we establish
A new front for life
In places we might own for
A while longer
Otherwise, there might be nothing
All around
C L Couch
A.D. 623
(I was looking up the area code)
a princess died
which sounds saddest of all
though loss through war should matter
more
but there’s a story here
to push my human heart
to wonder
and to wander through
the leaves to find the source
and grow a memory
for you
C L Couch
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/623
Our Lady
(12 December, the Solemnity of Guadalupe)
The roses fell
Into his cloak made
Of rough cloth
He took the flowers
To the priest who
Wanted proof before
Believing him
And in the lady
Man of Aztec culture
And holy woman
So hard to believe
Might all our miracles
And visitations
Go over so easily
For fleshly saints
And innocents
C L Couch
john glenn now breaks in
to a sky whose stars shine high
er for his friendship
C L Couch
image credit, NASA (KSC)
http://www-pao.ksc.nasa.gov/history/mercury/ma-6/ma-6.htm
Ghost Ship
(Oakland, California)
Emptied of her passengers,
Investigators and skeletal crew remain
Fun with fire, it’s been said of Nero
No entertainment here
No longer
What issues matter to a burning ship?
The dead who ride no longer care
The living must mourn first
C L Couch
Old Poodle Takes a Turn
Don’t disturb me
I have my way
Let me sleep
I’ll wake me when it’s time
Then I’ll need you to
Open the door
And keep treats in hand
For me—when I
Return—don’t worry,
I’ll let you know
It’s time
I have my way
You’ll wait for me,
I know
Don’t disturb me
I have my way
Let me sleep
I’ll wake me when it’s time
Then I’ll need you to
Open the door
And keep treats in hand
For me—when I
Return—don’t worry,
I’ll let you know
It’s time
I have my way
You’ll wait for me,
I know
Old Dachshund Likes a Belly Rub
To my blogger friends and other friends—
I’m sorry I’ve been out of contact for a little while. A number of things came together to drain my energy and health and time. I traveled to my sister’s to care for her old dogs while she and her husband went out of the country for a while. I’ve been suffering with a physical challenge that is painful and making it too hard to sleep (meaning often I don’t). And the national election (my nation’s) has been greatly troubling and dis-spiriting, too.
Anyway, my sister and brother-in-law are returning soon. I will visit with them for a time and simply pet the dogs. And go to urgent care, if need be.
I should return to blogging daily shortly. I have much reading and corresponding to catch up with (which with to up the catch). Of course, our past (static) posts can still speak, can’t they?
Happy World Philosophy Day. And in the USA at least it’s also Fast Food day. I wonder how my country might be inflicted with fast food philosophy.
Well, I wish for happier days for all.
Thank you,
C L (Christopher) Couch
Old Dachshund Likes a Belly Rub
On his back because
I rolled him there
All the bumps with age
(No cosmetic surgery, dear),
The little legs are
Shaking
I rub your chest minus
The Vapo-Rub
You seem pleased, if
Sussing grunts and moans is
In my ken—nearly
A hundred of my years,
Though you age
In the same way
These are the clues:
Bright, wet eyes and nose
To amend my terror that
You’ll die this day
While in my care
epilogue
He sleeps (a daily,
Mortal sleep)
Under a blanket
The edge of
Which he likes to
Toss over the
Head, a ritual still
All his own
C L Couch
11, 11 (11)
Today is Veterans Day.
Armistice Day in Europe.
Remembrance
Day. Red poppies to honor
Flanders Field.
Recalling that peace,
Even
At great cost, is better.
Better than victory.
C L Couch
clcouch123 
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