for the Crocus concert-goers in Russia
I’m sorry
and my heart is hit
by
what happened
at the Crocus
venue in Moscow
so many dead
so many
wounded
and no doubt
these days
the language goes to blame
and timely war
but sometime
in this time
we want to wonder
really
who the hell cares
I died
my family died
my friends who had hoped
for an easy time
in all the crystalline news
of massacres
were hoping frankly
thoughtlessly
and
humanly
for the relief in a good time
together
and now my friends are dead
and I am as good as gone
and I know
so many die
across the border
the near line
and on this
side
too
we wanted minutes
maybe hours
to have music
and some pleasure
taken
away
from all the sides
and to forget all sides
and like entertainments
in wartime
to leave it
briefly
and maybe in the back
re-think it
for a while
and look what happened
so many of us
and our hopes were killed
and all we want
is to feel better
if alive
and to have home
after
and
the rhetoric
that goes toward war
to go away
c l couch
photo by Sandra Seitamaa on Unsplash
the holey week
so this is
Holy Week
except for holes
we have
in planning
certain days
but come by the church
we will be open
all the time
you may kneel in darkness
or in daylight
whatever is the atmosphere
for God and you
to chat
for God will not mind
your mood
or what you have to say
if need be
God will listen
though profanity
though maybe
keep that
‘twixt yourselves
and God will answer in
a away
that most likely
will not satisfy
though there are
instant precedents
they are
in stories
mostly
though
we’ll leave
without resolve
unrecommended
maybe unbelieving
in the silence
that was shared
for God
works in God’s timing
and waiting much
is called for
or not
or something else
kairos
and a gift
we don’t know
how to ask for
and receive
in time
more than we could
ever ask
and ain’t that something
this translucent
faith business
that ain’t a business
but a gift store
without prices
where everything’s available
though we have to wait
to have it chosen
for us
what we need
in time
and we could call it
holy time
in a
holy week
c l couch
photo by Josh Eckstein on Unsplash
fixin’s
there is war
there is disease
there is famine
there is drought
that causes
famine
though despots
are as likely
if not more
to bring on hunger
in the folk
like you and me
there is corruption
beyond the natural
(though
we waste
enough)
there is the irony
on a blue world
of not having safe water
guaranteed
anywhere
thanks to our being here
the
poisoning residents
so war
disease
hunger
famine to hunger
lack of safe water
despots
and corruption
which is before the count
the destruction
caused by nature
that we call
our mother
time to time
raging as well
under Great Spirit
who must weep in bouts
while spelling anger
how we melt
the valleys
that his hands
pressed and made
mother nature
father spirit
(or
switch the genders
or
add to them
certainly)
leading the cosmos
and our lore
about the cosmos
and whom do we respect
what
to we respect
there’s self-respect
and what do we do
with that
other-respect
perhaps
though mostly as a type
I think
so good that we can envy
or so bad
we can relate
and so vote for
well
these are our problems
aren’t they
and listing them
might help
but as
or followed by
a plan of action
certainly
and not let sado-masochism
make our only world
for habitation
no
we can do better
I am sure
and you are sure
and when we’re sure
we’ll reach out
in spirit
and in flesh
to make it better
make the wounds better
like parents
with Band-Aids
small doses of antiseptic
under
small kisses above
then really get
to work
to make the world
cleaner
through and above
well
everything
not a purge
(never a purge)
but
to fix
and rebuild
then to design above
something to say
and fairly
journey
on to other worlds
c l couch
photo by Nicolas Gras on Unsplash
Every Time I
(you, we)
Every time I
Feel the
Spirit
Moving in my heart
I will pray
But I like it
When it moves outside
The heart
Also
Not as proof or evidence
But as
Communion
That spirits are merging
Venning at least
For faith
And sometimes simply for
Delight
Then spirits
Move
We sing and dance
Among the trees
And you wonder from
Where those
Strange lights
Come
In the woods or
Over water
Or horizoning desert
Ridges
Where there might be
Air
Or other medium
For breath
Bursts that
Might be daunting
Maybe
Also invitation
Dance with us to
Say
We move as lights
Be moved
C L Couch
Photo by Nick de Partee on Unsplash
how do we do
what do I want
to say
I don’t know
I’m tired
and annoyed
and stressed
the weather person
says it’s
bright
(I can see that)
and also cold
(I can’t see that)
outside
I hear the sounds
and they’re all right
the bad ones
move along
drills
sometimes
inside orange lines
(should I check)
sometimes lasing
for some hours
and that
and they
must be all right
so I’m typing
but not arriving
to something like
something to say
to you
from
me
sorry
get some rest
get up later
move around
and do something good
for you
like writing
if an interest
and reading
certainly
for light and for
communication
until
telepathy
shall comfort all
and keep all
connected
and all this is advice
for you
or me
I implied that I was
searching
and maybe this is
something
some small advice
for both
not that that’s
required
I could simply set a scene
like the haiku
for the cherry
cheery blossoms
should be
awake
and dancing
on the branches
anytime
soon
now
C L Couch
photo by Carolina on Unsplash
more pamphleteering
(3 poems, rebel with a pause or as the cat might say a paws)
Flawed
There are days
When there are
Nothing
But flaws
Maybe the kind of
Flaws
That might be fixed
Or re-trained
Or re-adjusted
Somehow
Or they are flaws
The kind
That remain
About which there is
No hope of changing into
Something good
Or even
Little more
Than barely
Tolerable
The cracks in the walls
And maybe
The foundation
The leaks
In the roof
As well
With divots in the yard
And even cuteness
In the squirrels
Is mollified
By the way they overrun
The feeder
Set
You know
For birds
The wider spaces
Might be grand
The siding
And the brickwork
Nearly perfect
And all the paint inside
Looks
Pretty good
Though what we see
Is the crack
That happened because
Things that have been around
For a while
Develop lines
And sometimes
The lines
Widen
Not minimized
To their resemblance
Of a mischievous
Stream
Upon a map
You might say
Well
It’s all just attitude
Isn’t it
And I have to say
And maybe anyone whose
Flaws are
Evident
Must say
Nope
The flaws are there
They’re real
And they’re lasting
Although
You’re right
There is an attitude
Over
Which to consider more
And
Or course
How to deal with what there is
The flaws that threaten
Should be addressed
Do-it-yourself
(-myself)
And/or
(preferably and)
Done-by-others
To be fixed
Enough
For more than jazz
For life outside
The venue
In the sudden daylight
Too
Some lines
And cracks remain
Which is real
For they are real
Endurable
Even considerable signs
Of endurance
Even achievement
And attraction
As what is
Structure
Shall
Last longer
Attraction
If we understood
That certain flaws are fine
(beyond
fine lines)
And it’s all right
And even good
They last
As if to say
In an encounter
To oneself
This place does not have perfection
As agenda
This place
Is grand with age
This place is welcome
This place
Is home
Denizen
The word
Today
Like the old game
Is
What shall it be
Watermelon
Lamp
Radio
Nostalgia
Love
Intransigence
Toward love
Why don’t we love
Ennui
Fright
Movie
Safety
Home
And are we safe at home
(another game)
And
Well
It’s relative
Against
A dying planet
And those who away
Who
Looking in
Might say
This is
Such a resource
Such an opportunity
Why did they let it go
So badly
There are wars
And also there is
Nature
Aggravated
By themselves
To greater storms
And harsher seasons
So far from
Design
That yet is evident
Maybe we should take over
Maybe we could help them
Save themselves
From of course
Themselves
For we know how this goes
So it went with us
Before the next-to-last crisis
Set us on
The edge
And all we could do
Then
Was try to find a way
To widen the edge
And then
If we could
Build back from either side
Because there was
Our abyss
Of destruction
All around
And that’s it
Isn’t it
We survived
And got
To this place
Where we are here
Cleanly
And with confidence
Today
At home
And in our orbits
Far beyond
And we must leave
These to it
To their Earth
And come back in a while
Should there be
Some unity
And health in unity
To have a planet
Have a world
Wet with life
And creatures
Green
And blue again
As it seems now
But it is pushed
They push it
Their own world
Toward something like
The line
We knew so well
Grind
(for the first day of spring in these parts)
Now it’s a cold
Day
Because we’re into spring
Last week
It was warm
While winter breathed
Hot upon the leaves
And sleeping
Lawn
Beneath
Topsy-turvy
Then
In fact
He says
At noon
It will be colder
Coming days
Sigh
When to plant
When to turn
When
To work
To play
To dance
What should lie fallow
Really should
For variegated futures
In the land
Although
We need what’s planted
Every day
Not merely
Grocery-store expectation
Anymore (that
does not
recognize the seasons
when the berries
or the lettuce
might be ready)
but the need
To feed our animals
To weave our clothing
Out of wool
Even to work the leather
And best-guess
Nutrients
And timing
Year-round
Of course
To feed our children
On our farm
And in the city
And all over
In the wilderness
Made worse
(beyond appreciation
in and of itself)
By droughts
And wars
We’ve heard of
And it’s a guess
But I think it the way
We have them that
The cows
Need milking
Every day
And there’s that magic
In the harvest
(unreal)
That should happen every day
Releasing everything
We want
That we want
To believe
Is always
(anymore)
Fairly gathered in
A world of expectations
Fiercely specific
On a faded Earth
Running out of time
If
We’re not careful
And
We’re not careful
C L Couch
Photo by Yuri Malishenko on Unsplash
Starry
I guess I’ll leave the stars up there
and make some new ones here
with glue and glitter,
lots of glitter,
sweeping up
after.
And I’ll find a paper-punch
and string
to set them from below at heights and
up high tape or (more) string or something:
maybe,
you know,
a coat-hanger
and use the hook on top
to have a mobile,
stars of mine
and my own dreams.
And if you ask,
I’ll talk about them—stars
and stories,
you know,
share them.
C L Couch
Photo by Borna Bevanda on Unsplash
if God were speaking on a Monday
what shall God say
but that
I love you
and command you
while you ignore me
and frankly
do much worse
on your own
not that you can’t
invent things
some
many to admit
that carry goodness along
somehow
almost to defy the flaws
you insist
on leading with
things to keep life going
to have ease
in doing other things
if not
the reasons why
that I’m afraid I have
and my host
reveals
which I do not withhold
at all
though you will
have spirit
without me
and so dilute
my love
and certainly
my command
for you know
I am God
and cannot give you names
for me
out of convenience
a god of attribute
interesting
but not conclusive
let alone relevant
in any
situation
I am God
and I love you
and I command
and would direct you
day to day
and in the moments
with perfection
and all
love
and yet do leave you
to yourselves
which might seem puzzling
to think on it
since I could have made you
something propelled
only by
my will
but then what would
you be
the ends of strings
while even angels have
more will than that
and I want
you to be you
in every way
which means
I leave you
to you your own
first on the inside
then the outside
and then how you might affect
this first world
of ours
I love you
and command you
and must have you
be you
even to
the withholding of myself
and ourselves
to let you go
and then come back
and should remain
on your own
and I know
it sounds
as if manipulations
slides
as if
serpentine
through all
but how free
does it seem to you
unless you oppress
each other
how free to decide
on you
and me
and how things are
what is reality
and places in it
how I made you
how I love you
globes of energy
with limbs
and brains
hearts that pump
so much more than blood
though wondrous
all parts
and all parts are yours
not because I say so
but what is
and I was here
and shall return
and shall in spirit
reside
invest this moment
all
for your consideration
and what of the cosmos
I keep going
as in maintaining
anyway
and shall you rise
I hope so
rise through all distractions
that are fallen
and keep you falling
still
decide
then
what you will
and don’t worry
how I judge the rest
that’s up to me
and I know
potential
and ability
take each one on
sometimes in pairs
and finally a people
with a fate
now let’s
find out
what that is
maybe together
c l couch
photo by Hamdhulla Shakeeb on Unsplash
Isle
Maldives, Maldives
published 12 hours ago [2 p.m.]
in her father’s and her mother’s house
(for Saint Patrick’s Day)
Brigid
told her father
about faith
and made a cross of straw
to make her point
that Christ
and faith in Christ
is made of
ordinary things
even life in the spirit
even faith
because the spirit
has been with us
since creation
and was
the cause
of creation
and he believed
and made a kingdom
of it
which might
not seem fair
since
everyone should make up
their own minds
so as
to understand the stakes
and that
the stakes are high
in choosing
one way
or another
which is why
conversion by
a literal sword
let alone doctrinal
isn’t the
best strategy
and
in fact
far from it
believe or not
one by one
and two
and then whatever
however
a family is defined
as in
as for me
and my house
because the house
believes
and then
a group
a temple community
or in said houses
where the faithful
used to meet
at first
you know
where people lived
wherever
sometimes while
persecuted generally
and so to meet
in a hiding
of some sort
with symbols on the outside
exchanged
in a kind
of code
and so Brigid
took her chances
even
with her father
since rule was absolute
back then
and it all could have gone
another way
but she was
and is
connected to the ages
and the land
and maybe she knew
how everything should
fit
and how a cross
of straw
might seem
to teach it all
like bread
and wine
and other things
(straw
a shamrock)
might have an added
use
for spiritual matters
worship
or evangelism
so Christ be with you
in every way
the breastplate indicates
and the faith
as Brigid knew
the cause of Christ
but only
one by one
and then two
and then the group
of however many
is defined
first as family
then a wider
(not political)
community
c l couch
photo by Boston Public Library on Unsplash
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