hymn contemporary
the church’s one foundation
(still) is Jesus Christ, her lord
the church is she
like the damsel in distress
needing rescue
Christ is the hero
drawing her
from the drowning water
cutting her ties
by the villain
to the railroad tracks
like a melodrama
and why not
we’re talking about
villains and heroes
and mortgages
and the need for something better
as in more
than who we are
and we go on to sing
that Jesus will not fail
which is not bad
which is good
in a hero
coda
next hymn
or next version
the church will be a he
and will be rescued
by a she
by the female hero
who is Christ
like Zenobia
or Boudica
but better than the Romans
defeating the inimical
forever
and other genders
or what is genderless
in life
that has life
the organic
I suppose
the inorganic
too
there is a Lord
not only over all
but who is all
to make the rest
only a little separate
in the deified scheme of things
by identity
and purpose
and will
c l couch
("The Church's One Foundation" is a Christian hymn; this morning a contemporary fusion of the hymn was shared)
photo by Jefferson Santos on Unsplash
Lisburn Road at night
wonder as a verb
to go out there
and look
with the senses that
we have
and think
with the synapse
that we have
about the looked
and also
the looking
to look through question marks
that is our punctuation
as a gift
of moving on
since
we tend to ask
and then go on
for answers
there is a hill outside of town
that I would take
pull over
then peer out at night
I got
to see
Halle-Bopp
that way
and also got
to stand
or lean against the car
too see both
darkness and the light
and then
go back inside
for warmth
against the night
the comfort of
artificial glow
that I could pretend that I made
and whatever cushiony
substance
made the seats
but if it weren’t
too cold
I’d stand
or lean
a while first
waiting for more
that what saw
and sometimes
I saw
with some sense of other
then
I’d write it down
on paper
I’d have
wonder as a noun
and
who knows
maybe keep
wondering as a gerund
something standing for an
ongoing thing
c l couch
photo by Tristen Lee on Unsplash
happy June
happy night skies
bright day
bright day
blue and cool
another day of this
is promised
by the forecaster
but what we know for sure
is what we have
blue and cool
bright day
c l couch
photo by Adrian Infernus on Unsplash
Because We Can Doesn’t Mean We May
And where is conscience
In all this
May we agree
This is a secular value
Maybe not
Maybe we’d say
It’s a confluence of chemicals
And so adjust the chemicals
According to agenda
And this is it
We’ll say
We can do anything
And so might as well
And so the anarchies of one
Guided by something
Because we are
Guided by something
We will release
All anathema
All destruction
Because
We could
So might as well
All this
Without a conscience
Without a human try
At salvation
Our part preceding
Armageddon
That we could line up for
Weapons down
Bringing drink with food
Instead
And also medicine
With the medicine of joy
As another
Secular choice
We could do this
We can do it
C L Couch
Photo by John Benitez on Unsplash
“Donate Blood Today” (which might translate more easily than part of an image on a page)
Enormity
I don’t know
What it means
(I mean
I can
do the count)
For two thousand people
To die
In a brief length of time
Like the candle that
Goes out
(two thousand
brief
candles)
A day or a few days
Seems all of a sudden
And I don’t
Understand
I don’t get it
Apprehend
That is
In that way
There was a landslide
They are gone
How does that happen
They were
Consumed
Their flesh subsumed
I think
And all the parts of them
That mattered
Day by day
Each one
Who breathed
And loved
And worked
And did so with others
Prosaic destruction
Nothing unheard of
I think I am led to believe
This happens
All the time
It’s awful
We try shoring up
Here and there
And think and act prevention
For a while
And not to say
That’s bad
So much better than
Idly waiting
Like the Eloi
For a disaster
From the water
Or the Morlocks
To dissipate
Only a little more
The consciousness
Of play
Sometimes nightly terror
Then play
Again in day
Well
These folk
Real folk
Are gone
Via catastrophe
And however unexpected
It must
Like someone we know
Always a surprise
No matter what
We knew
To find them gone
New seasons
For a while
A time to grieve
And if to dance
A grieving dance
And then
It will have to be
Against the tears
And the
Weighing-down
Anathema
Will be
Must be
A time to plant
A time to build
A time to harvest
Feed
And provide
For all of us
The many who
Must remain
To keep our world
(sorry)
Going
C L Couch
Landslide in Papua New Guinea Killed More than 2,000, Officials Say
SYDNEY – Papua New Guinea's massive landslide three days ago buried more than 2,000 people, the government said on Monday, as treacherous terrain and difficulties transporting aid lowered hopes of finding survivors. The National Disaster Centre gave the new number in a letter to the U.N. released Monday but dated Sunday.
Photo by Dicky Wauyari on Unsplash
(referencing The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, also the character in another story who mentions a brief candle)
Water Works
I’ve written words
Here are some words
I need
More coffee
Be back soon
(soon-ish)
Back
With coffee
(rounded spoonful
thin rivulet
of count
to six for cream)
with some yogurt
Take a spoonful
Have a sip
Still missing ideas
Something
For you
For today
It is
A still day
To appreciate
Before the world’s noise
Returns
The last spoonful
And another sip
What shall I say
Beyond
Let’s have a day
And then another
Should apocalypse
Agree
Though I must
Say
I don’t spend hours
Worrying over this
And what happens next
For I don’t know
And neither
Do you
Which is a way
To say
Relax
Or at least
Worry over what there is
To worry
Over
Say
The health and joy in things
In the ones
We love especially
And the ones we pray for
Known
Or stranger
And more likely both
Maybe the message is
To pray
For there will be answers
And therein lay the risk
That when we ask
Or even state
There will be hearing
With response
Which might be a mystery
I don’t know
How it works
(you might)
Maybe we cry
Maybe
We stamp our feet for answers
That aren’t coming
On our terms
And there’s
The mystery
For there are answers
And why can’t
We always know them
Maybe best
To leave them in the air
Therein is faith
There in
And on the earth
And underneath
And in the ocean-depths
Is love
For us
(for each other
sourced
overall)
From God
Wash in all this
Clean in this
Our cleanliness ain’t perfect
But in what we may have
Be
Real good
C L Couch
. . .
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said: That's good!
James Weldon Johnson, “The Creation”
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
lamentation is a season
(for Memorial Day 2024)
sad remembrance
the activity
and the state
of sad remembrance
who has died
and is ahead of us
in honored state
or imprisoned
inside something
of
we don’t know what
or in what part
what nation host
sought pride
in this
rows of
flags
metal stars
on metal sticks
symbols of
faith
the Star of David
or Arabic
or a cross
or blank for those
with no tradition
save
to have died
mortally
to save
and at the monuments
here
in England
France
perhaps in diplomatic squares
in Africa
and Asia
also in the
Anzac places
there will be some
marching
and many will salute
and we’ll officially remember
or in homes
the absences
that war
and war-like actions
they responded to
have made
we’ll tell stories
and we should
we’ll hear new parts
and oft-repeated
passages
and both are good
and sad for
reason
for the purpose
of our meeting
we’ll also celebrate
though maybe
not so far
that we forget
what we should recall
and have a flag for
and a photograph
whatever sort
of tableaux
with a little more
to say
this was our aunt
our uncle
our ancestors
or our parents
or our children
or
our neighbors
we lament
and also adulate
this day
c l couch
(the preacher preached from Lamentations and about Memorial Day today)
photo by Tanner Ross on Unsplash
Not Our Town
I don’t think
You think of it
The problems that you cause
That what’s your fault
It isn’t mine
And mine
Does not belong to you
We go the way
Of the world
So to say
Noise for noise
Anger for anger
What’s the end
Some kind of disaster
Unclimaxed
Which would be real
Lack of material
Resolution
One of us withdraws
As in leaves
The other lets it
Without
Resolution
Because it seems
We can do no better
In the world
Not in Gaza
Which is hardly fair
For comparison
Not in
Nothing like
Mister Wilder’s
Or
Our town
C L Couch
Photo by Monica Bourgeau on Unsplash
Shape-Shifting
I should think
And say
Something spiritual
Something obviously
So
About the one
Who’s over
Under
Everywhere between
A Scarlet Pimpernel
Or Kilroy
Or Banksy
For our time
And who is next
Marauding
Typically in silence
As we know
With epithets
Graffiti
As campaigns
Of existentialism
I suppose
God won’t leave pictures
And words
Since God already leaves
These
In and as
A cosmos
And what is the message
But creation
And a reason for it
Drawn
And we say written in
The stars
Through written on the ground
As well
In the spiral of the nautilus
The hexagons
Of bee cells
The lines above horizons
With the meanings we may
Attach
Or leave go
For tonight
The messages
Are shared
And now receiving
Is the issue
I suppose
After appreciation
And acknowledgement
That something else
With
These shapes
Is going on
C L Couch
Photo by Rodion Kutsaiev on Unsplash
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