fish Friday
it’s a gray day
should it get darker
it will look more
than
a fish Friday
in Lent
we’ll hear the silence
the press
of what
will feel more
the smell of storm
for now
the taste
of dry moments
is it a desert
underneath the gray
a world
we will not recognize
has only
death to offer
after all rewards
of Earth
and us
a plane
that has no feature
(worse than deserts)
no signals
no direction
anything
to show a way
to make sense of
any steps
we might try to take
while on this
measureless
level
that might not be level
for
we could be upside-down
or inside-out
then wake up
to Friday
and it’s Lent
the season still
a still
season
have the fish
go to church
whatever
make it count
whatever
listen
watch
and learn
our faith
and our existence
might rely
on these
here
there are
symbols and signs
arrows
stones in a line
weights
to appreciate
and even try to carry
in a season
one walked this way
and every step
a burden
smoothed
wickedly
by sweat
and blood
we’re on our knees
we also
try to walk
that way
the steps now dried
through ages
wearing
ritual
the chance for meaning
or indifference
our choice
like the choice
for faith
Friday
Lent
and the other days
without fat or sugar
or without
tradition
make tradition
with the faith that is forever
that unchanges for
our ages
mutable
and
so very
needful
c l couch
photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
[photographer’s caption follows]
I took this on the 22nd of April 2019, on the day I heard of the bombing of 3 churches on Easter Day in Sri Lanka. Jesus weeps with you.
Fox without the Hounds
I live in the suburbs of London
now
I enjoy a better class of
living
by trash
Londoners (Englanders,
Britishers)
Are not allowed to shoot me
Or pretty much molest me
in any way
Parliament
it seems
is on my side
I win
I think
I win
C L Couch
(for Br’er Fox)
for Melissa Lemay’s Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #259
via https://graceofthesun.com/what-did-the-fox-say/
Peter Lloyd on Unsplash
canon
could not love
be a round
as in
I sing
and you sing back to me
we sing
in a circle
one segment sings
and then
the one nearby
we hear the building
then
the denouement
of sound
and in the echo
of our making
the last
notes pass through
a valley we
have also made
of peace
c l couch
photo by Alessandra Caretto on Unsplash
Rafah
It’s Ramadan
A million people
Faithful
For what
I am unsure
Being not so faithful
For life
For rescue
For prophets to keep
Teaching
On the will of God
And to submit
While hospitals
Can’t work
And food cannot arrive
And there’s no living
Room
Or space for peace
There is an endless countdown
For invasion
Until the count is ended
With more shelling
And then many
Many troops
Darkened by masks
What passes for medieval armor
And bearing
Oh
So modern weapons
And in Israel
They wait as well
Still mourning
And some strategize
An ending to Hamas
While others
Simply want for life
After grief
To move them on
They want the desert
Want the mountains
Want the seaside
Want to work
And play
And love
Their way through life
The human way through life
Though there is fear
Of extinction
Here
Too small
Too new a country still
Against
How long were the reigns
Of kings
And queens
And prophets
Both sides
Have hellish prospects
Rooted
And growing
Though the blood and time
That has poured in
After seeds
Branches
That look like tension
More than fruit-bearing possibilities
Seasons
That lack distinction
Not from the wilderness
But from
What we’d say
The human heart
The mind
Both hardened
By reason
And by fright
By reasonable fright
And also anger
Anger at the other
Sometimes at one’s own
And where is life
In all this
Where do the walls come down
Enough
For work and play
The desert
And the mountains
And the shoreline
Of the ocean
To walk in
And look out toward
The horizon
Without a horizon
Blurred lines
But there the sun will set
As if the only clock at work
The moves
With assurance
Of the daytime
And the night time
And that’s all
C L Couch
Photo by nour tayeh on Unsplash
word
oh
I don’t know
the word should be
love
shouldn’t it
our shibboleth
perhaps
a password to know
the enemies
in our camp
to send them back
with a regret
if they
won’t join
with us
there is a battle
sad to say
a sortie
in a war
a war of ages
that began
who knows when
well
who on this
side
knows
is heaven’s rebellion
happening now
in fact
have a third
of angels
fallen
only recently
one third
waging war
as if to win
goaded by their chief
no doubt
to believe it
or
to act that way
and
love could stop the war
could stop all wars
if we could
bring it
to the table
and we can
it’s both
strong
and risky
to present
while those across might
react
with repudiations
then
bring their weapons out
from
hiding places
over hills
nearby
but it’s also
the only way
the only
way
that sticks
the only way that leads
to water
and to food
to shelter
and to safety
a
cessation
of hostilities
that will allow
if not incite
the
saving measures
allowing
peace
whether or not
it passes understanding
a Mispah benediction
clasping
without weapons
on
or close
and better
without weapons
in the mind
the war is over
who has won
invisible God
has won
the one who will
not gloat
or exact
spine-breaking
reparations
but will direct
the world
to rebuild itself
with help
from the angels
who are angels
for love
does this
love
does all of this
I learn this late
we learn this late
but there is time
for some
and more
in time we have
and time
beyond
time
love without
conditions
since there is too much
time
on the other side
(once there)
these
so do our best
for now
let love
be love
and to impose
with hope
and without
strategy
(consider the war
above)
or expectation
love
the word
and then the word
amen
c l couch
photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash
And in Conclusion
Believe or not
There’s God
It’s up to you
Wonderfully
Up to you
For faith
In what’s unseen
By unseen
But what’s evidenced
In
Nature
Even by extremes
More so
In love
And everything
Beyond ourselves
Affirming
What is in ourselves
That we know best
As flesh
Combined with
Spirit
My
We really are
Something
And should mean it
Fantastic-made
And beating certain odds
For now
To have been kept
And then
To keep ourselves
And we should know
The value
Beyond chemicals
The market fluctuates
Bur the worth
Of what’s internal
As eternal
Is forever
And the price
As might be reckoned
Also needed
By
The world
It seems
Paid
In faith
And love
And also paid
In full
Perfected in a life
Both human and
Divine
And in divinity
We pray
Our own spirit
And our flesh
Shall pray
Even with life
And life’s devotion to
What’s good
Resisting evil
And when giving in
To evil
Then returning
The question
Which is
Stronger
Which is more
At last
Answered
With wounded conviction
Scarred believing
And we may
Return
Or
Yes
Never having left
And maybe to eschew
When needed
Older
Siblings’
Attitudes
Toward prodigals
We have
We come back
And now
We all remain
In faith
Uneasy in the world
As uneasy
To the world
Which says
No evidence
No faith
According to our rules
Though evidence
Invisible
Like concepts
Be
Working all around
But
Speaking of invisible
To start
At least
Remember one’s
Great value
That is
Your own
And don’t forget it
Stay alive
Forgive
And be forgiven
Knowing that life and love
(unscalable
though scalable)
Keep us
And keep us going
In the valley
To the top
Depth
As well as height
And in the mind
Between
Then knowing well
Of one
Reach out
To one
And then another
And let groups
Of faith have strength
With courage
For each other
Goodness
Do I sound
Like an epistle
Well
Enough courage
In the one
To be
And more
To join
A model
Maybe
Understand of the one beyond
Or go the other way
Let the one
Be model
For you
And for us
Either way
Have faith
Remembering greater love
But keeping oneself
Precious
And unstained
Though knowing
That God loves
The stained
As well
And we should love
The stained
As with the wounded
All around
Such things
As shall be lifted
But for now
Need caring
As with the pristine parts
And also those
As practice now
For everything
All Earth
And heaven
Flesh
And spirit
Renewed
C L Couch
Photo by Ivan Bandura on Unsplash
a prayer
mother and father
heal them
and help them
help our family
and our friends
help all the strangers in the world
whom we do not know
but you know
through and through
c l couch
photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash
What Do Angels Eat
I suppose
The first and best guess
Is nothing
They are heavenly
They seem to work
Unflagging
What need have they for
Food
What then
If a need
And for an energy source
For we may say they are
Relentless
Yet wonder if
Their energy is
Eternal
They are divine
(before some choose
another way)
Though they are not divinity
And so might
To fancy
Or daresay
Need fuel
I wonder if
They might draw energy
From sources in the
Cosmos
That they both know
And
Throughout
Time
And without
Time traverse
Say
With delight
They might soar through
The atmosphere
Of Venue
Fill their wings
Like sails
With wind
From gaseous origins
They might digest
Of
Slingshot movements
‘Round the sun
Or borrow from the
Energy
From orbits of the
Many moons
Of Saturn
Or of Jupiter
Borrowing
From Phobos
Deimos
Or the satellites
Of outer Neptune
Or
Dwarf planets
They might know the molecules
That fill what we consider
Empty space
They might eat dark matter
Or visit to the other ends
Of black holes
And so feast
From what is there
And so
Inside the center
Of each galaxy
So be replenished
From so many places
Or maybe a dimension’s slide
Into another
Provides nourishment of
Meals
So-called
Out of the multiverse
They eat
Without the worry
Of measure
Until our measures become
Or of other worlds become
Adept
To catch them
At their food
And so have proof
Though faith
(foolish
you might say)
Has long
And even
Now
Requires none
C L Couch
n. b.
Maybe they are feeding
From the leaves
In trees
(who says what size)
That fall through fall
Or reach up from the ground
In spring as
Seedings
Other plants
Flowers
And with an irony
What we need
And take
As crops
For food
(CLC)
Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash
"Energy," by the way claims William Blake, "is eternal delight."
(I should promise a haiku for tomorrow)
a portrait
1
weird stuff today
not crap
but honest words
inside
made into visioning
a way to read
to see
to hear
witches
and ghosts attend
here is something
for your spells
that comes
quite honestly
against the grain
out of the fire
of unusual thought
and destination
for spirit-care
away from regular thought
even away
from the
machine
2
I think Joyce had
a plot
maybe an outline
that enforced
provided banks
at least
for one side of the stream
that it might roll
and also
tell the story
desired
the story that we say
had no beginning
or no end
save the luck of covers
but then a passage
would be honest
rising above
the paltry things we know
moving away
like riders to the sea
epiphany
on either side
then movement
into daytime
and the quieting
genius
after “Araby”
at night
3
now I have coffee
all the colonial thieving
now fair-trade
it’s bitterness
it stains my teeth
it also helps
with my heartwork
and also
headaches
so I’ve read
so I like
to believe
I washed a dish
and made a noise
am I allowed
am I allowed
(I ask for litany)
something so normal
and a normal
life that was eluded
I eluded
for so long
the good family
mobile family
taken from me
while I was afraid
to move
to move
at all
and so I’ve slid
sloughed says my friend
from place to place
a modicum of gumption
rented
like the truck
(that broke down)
for the moving day
the vegetarian thing
again
but I have memories
of burgers from the grill
roast beef
wreathed with vegetables
from the oven
even corned beef and cabbage
on Saint Patrick’s
which I’ve not seen since
the food
or such a green
a day
hark
it is two bells
not for sailor’s time
but from the phone
maybe reminding me
I have a heart test
in a couple of hours
taking blood
again
my veins
it seems
acting tired
recalcitrant
to give the protein up
and all the cells
of all the colors
(some that change
with oxygen)
not wanting
to disclose
for tests
anymore
4
and while there’s wood for
furniture
and while there’s hope
in love that’s
set upon
the cushions
and the wood
metal beneath
or on the floor
while
passion
knows no bounds
beyond the flesh
and spirit
in between
I’ll play the art
it seems
from which
so far
I haven’t earned a time
in fact
paid for
the time that I have here
and while I have it
but things
are precious
aren’t they
sometimes our deciding
which is which
as in
do you remember
this is our special place
this will be
our song
and so it goes
with lovers
and with friendships
of all kinds
with the bad place
and season
too
too bad to recall
but there it is
is it a balance
I don’t think so
as good will out
and bad
descend to its own
nothingness
so
too
will memory
not deceive
but prioritize
what matters most
upon the porch
in recall
C L Couch
Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
call me crazy
call me late for dinner
I’ll be writing
over here
clcouch123 
Recent Comments