church gone
as in I went
to church today
was
driving
and
drove in because I know
the church is pretty
and probably
for something
more
saw cars pull and people going
inside
so I went in
as well
hoping I could
I don’t know
make my way by gestures
forgotten
words
half-remembered
but
worship
anyway
the church was lit as much by
morning light
I think
a stark shadow rendering
in silhouette
the gigantic cross of
Jesus
I listened to the homily
about the special
day
today
of guardian angels
of angels
everywhere
I’m sure
we gently waved to each other
maybe
a legacy of the pandemic
and we smiled
I did not take part in
the Eucharist feast
since
it was twenty years or more since
confession
(I
don’t
think I would have been caught
out)
we left
I left
got in the car
resuming my drive
more
or less
to nowhere
into a world that matters
where
and when
(yesterday)
my
niece is
sick with cancer
c l couch
photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
particulates
what’s in the air
beside air
beside oxygen and nitrogen
argon
and the rest that has been there
for ages
with additions of smoke
in time
and then smog
radioactivity
changing art appreciation
and
the health of lungs
and such
other chemicals by now
plus plastic
parts
parts per million I suppose to measure
we breathe in bad things by us
belying the cartoon
version
of
artificial respiration
out with the bad air
in with the good
now
out with the bad air
in with badder
why we pollute ourselves
should be
a global conundrum
of
some
well
great urgency
we breathe through filters
helped by machines and when it’s worse
through
masks
we drink water from our plastic
metal bottles
we think we are immune
I guess
some of us
I guess
while failing to track for everyone
since
everyone’s affected
the work of all
societies
that measure and by measure
warn
the rates of cancer
c l couch
photo by Leo_Visions on Unsplash
“Los Angeles, CA, USA”
(another preachy poem, and I could be sorry, but this one came to mind and word by my experience)
President’s Cancer
My President has cancer
The kind
That killed my brother
Whose detection seemingly
Went late
And though he lasted through
The treatment and his life
Awhile
He was taken by the cancer away
From us
And what he knew
For sure of him
And so I feel strongly for this thing
My parents
And too many others I
Have known
While
This is about you
Mister President
Like
My brother
And I am sorry
And I wish you well through medical
Responses
Thank you for your service
By which we know
How to pray for you
In
Days
C L Couch
Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
poem plus a verse nodding to tomorrow
x
x
Flesh and Plastic
(having heard about the current cancer rates)
x
How do we poison
Ourselves
How do the cancer rates
Increase
I looked outside
Through polluted air
While inside
My mother fought for life
Or couldn’t fight
When the disease
Or medications
Were too much
x
And I couldn’t help
But wonder
Do we do this to each other
Change condensation nuclei
From dirt
To chemical compounds
And so our snow in winter
Raindrops
All year ‘round
x
We poison up our food
The animals
And plants might have it
Too
With all the Earth
We used to praise
And respect
If only scenery
For action
x
And now maybe
The Earth talks back
To say
You could once blame us
For our parts
In quakes and floods
Eruptions
But as you do
What you do
To yourselves
With how you build
And how you bury
How you live
We must share the blame
For a plastic planet
Made of chemicals
That do not make the cycle
Of planting
And fruition
But poison everything
Removing what is natural
(what is ours)
From the seasons
x
From what is natural
For life
The life that we would have for you
Even with quakes
And flooding
Eruptions
The harsher liturgy
We provide
With all the living
Rather
Life
x
The God whom we report to
Might be sad
Might be angry
Might be waiting
As with faith
For you to get it
Change
While polluted soil
And water
Air
We keep waiting as we can
For change
For better boxing
As discretion
To let the poison
Be mistakes that mar
Rather than
Daily living
x
For now we take
The poisons as we can
While expecting
Your human race to change
Before the earthline
Fails
And falls
Before the fire consumes
Where then
Would you go
x
We wait
God waits
So change
Already
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Brian Yurasits on Unsplash
Plastic bottle floats in water. Plastic pollution is a problem that every single person on earth can relate to. Single-use plastics are being found at every corner of our natural world, and it’s a problem that each of us can help to solve. Follow on Instagram @wildlife_by_yuri, and find more free plastic pollution photos at: https://www.wildlifebyyuri.com/free-ocean-photography
x
x
Introit to All Souls
x
November two
All Souls
Yesterday to celebrate
The living church
Now to remember
Reconnoiter with
The church that has gone on
Some of which
That stays behind
To watch
To receive prayers
x
CLC
x
(x = space)
x
x
God = Not a Sadist
(read God equals not a sadist)
x
Pain is good
It teaches us
It tempers us
We come out wholer people
Better for it
Pain is the megaphone
Says Lewis
Pain is loud
Ginsberg might say
(might say)
Pain howls
x
But it doesn’t howl
Because it’s good:
Pain is bad
It hurts
Great pain hurts
Great
After great pain
The formal feeling comes
Does God allow pain?
Does God wish it?
I don’t know
Christ in the garden
Asked not to feel hurt
And he was
Severely
Bloody
Hurt
Until he died
We say he had to die
Well and good
For theology
And there was real joy
In his returning
Perhaps he felt it first
x
I don’t like to hurt
I hope you don’t
I’m in pain now
My neck, my lower back
My eyes from lack of sleep
I have heart disease
And it seems my heart and lungs
Work against me
When it hurts to breathe
Though they are not the source
They are victimized
By fluid
That should not be flowing,
Pressing there
x
Worse, my brother dies from cancer
And it hurts
The medicine might help
It also creates new trials
A passing between pain
And something like sedation
And somehow in the middle
Is what’s living
x
And you hurt
I don’t know how
And the world hurts
In every fracture
x
So where is God?
Where is the love of God?
Where is God is love?
God is there
Love’s there
If God allows
Much less or much more
Created pain
Then there is love as well
Also created
And I think
Preferred
x
But pain is hard
It’s not good
We say pain is gain
But it isn’t
Pain is a signal that
Something’s wrong
And we’ll find out
Everyone finds out
The world dissembles, but
Pain is true
Pain sometimes teaches
Usually after the fact
Or in someone else’s story
x
I think if pain
Could not be real
If we couldn’t have it
That would be
Better
We might say we’d
De-evolve without it
Maybe so
But then
The world would have to change
And would be changed
We don’t know how
We live with pain
We even bear it
When it won’t
Go away,
x
Which doesn’t mean
We should like it
That God should like it
Wish it
Before the fall,
We might well guess
There was no pain
x
Sorry
There’s pain now
I don’t wish for you
Your pain means
A great deal to me
I cannot make it
Magic
Go away
Or mine
We’re stuck
And while we’re stuck
Comes all the learning
All the tempering like
Metal fired
And then struck
At least we’re not the ashes
At least we’re here
For everything
Imagined,
More so
Realized
And that’s what we have to say
Pain is real
x
C L Couch
x
x
(a Sunday School discussion from James 1, an epistle in the Christian New Testament)
x
notes (references)
Mere Christianity
“Howl”
“After Grean Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes”
x
[photographer’s narration] When we visited Utö, the most outer island of this beautiful archipelago in the place we call Finland, I allowed myself to be guided by the incredible energy of Inca, the daughter of the family we were visiting there. She took me to a series of abandoned bunkers from the times this island was a military strategic point and there I found this graffiti that represent very well the feeling of all that has to do with military, war, conflict and drama. With love from Korpo.
Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
devotional rant
x
i hear the cat upstairs
my brother dies from cancer
floods kill people
in the South
the Russian war goes on
and there are fires elsewhere
made by us
weapons
and-or
mania
x
there must be reasons for these
and there are
that might be the easy part
will
and stakes for will
this is not for training
this is real
i should say
i don’t know
how all this might apply
to what’s next
what’s coming
x
for now
the harder part
is having what we have
and turning victory
from unshapen shapes
of loss
the lathe of heaven
she writes,
refining all that’s here
x
and yet outside the story
(the story teaches)
we have
what we have
and must make do
and should do better
we should win
not over each other
but over demons
on the earth,
ones that are
ones we make
x
we know better
our skill is better
we can help each other
so much better
some do
the rest ought
to do
x
we have the instruments
play on
war on
peace on
x
c l couch
x
x
note
The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin
x
Photo by Austrian National Library on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Holy Waiting
x
Set apart
From regular life
The scheduled living
x
Try to hold
It’s hard
And often it slips through
x
God waits with us
I guess
I hope
There is no timely time
God’s good at that
We wonder
Should be try
Hospital food?
I mean, there are cafés
Maybe with better coffee
And no Jell-O
x
Should we eat?
Is it allowed?
Are we crass?
x
Pins and needles
Certainly, they’re here
And everywhere
Everywhere
We go
The familiar
That is strange now
We’ve never met
How are you?
x
Waiting means stopping
It also means serving
Those also serve
Who only stand and wait
Yeah,
That makes sense now
x
Understanding terminal
There is no
Understanding
Read a book
No, thanks
Climb a tree
Better
x
We stop
Until we move again
In steadiness
Or mysteries
Or steady
Or unsteady mysteries
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Chris Anderson on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Late Cancer
(diagnosed, lived out)
x
My brother
Might have to be moved
Again
He is frustrated
Wants to be home
Before he wanted to be
Elsewhere
But elsewhere isn’t working out
I understand
The purpose of a medical setting
Is not to settle in
But to leave
When well
Stay is contraindicated
Home
As it cannot be managed
Still remains the prize
x
He’s in pain
Palliation only goes so far
Before the pain
Folds in again
He’s also frightened
I would be
I am in contemplation
Though these are his days
And shall the cancer
Diagnosed too late
A year ago
Take him to another home
Prepared
At last
To last
x
But there’s today’s pain
I don’t know how to wish
The pain to go away
Without invoking
The scary, heavenly alternative
But prayers aren’t magic
We aren’t dealing with a genie
Waiting to misstep
Our hopes
In misspoken entreaties
Heal my brother
Still
Is every prayer’s day
That might make nothing happen
‘Til the pain-releasing thing
Must happen
Tragically for us remaining
For him who suffers
Most of all
x
It is late December
I agree it is a magic season
How much amazing
Might be borrowed
From days
Of extra stars and circles
Green and all the other colors
Only for him
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Kalle Kortelainen on Unsplash
[photographer’s narrative]
A crisp afternoon around 3pm in Dalsjöfors, Sweden these incredible snowflakes appeared on the hood of our car. You can almost hear the crisp snow creaking under the soles of the winter boots by just looking at them. Pure natural magic.
x
(x = space)
x
x
Cancerous
x
We’ve been five
Soon we will be four
That is the prognosis
Palliation
Hospice
These are discussed
And sought
For him
x
Out of order
Since he’s not the oldest
In mere math of life
It could have been me
I’m the one with the machine
To keep me going
But I guess
(today’s not over)
It’s not me
(for now)
x
The math doesn’t matter
Not important
Math matters elsewhere
In the dosage
Of his medication
In the number of his place
In the hospital
His apartment number
To which they say
He will not be returning
x
It’s not me
It’s him
He is important now
But I have to say
It’s been a problem all along,
Frankly, with me
I don’t know how to lose
A brother
x
And has he ever learned
To live with this
I’d say so
A mystery he did resolve
Through work
Through home
Maybe through old movies
He knows so well
x
And one day
All shall be all
God bless everyone
Who tries
Who’s trying now
One by one
Who practices with grace,
Each fitness for heaven
That shall be judged
By perfect love intending
Hoping that
Full health to be restored
x
God bless everyone
God bless each one
God bless Rick
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
x
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