a billion's one
cheering up
I’m watching Santa claim that
and then provide
for the children in a town
a neighborhood
where
it’s easy for children to go unnoticed
when grownup heads are set
too high
and there things like gentrifying that
compete with
cheer
and children
until now homegrown
and so problems
and solutions applied
locally
where all ages have lived
and want
to live
and if we say
thee is a holiday spirit
and an intention
for one day
and if
we
mimic
starting in October if
not August
might we not consider genuine
which might sound saccharine
to say
except in addition to old
neighborhoods
to
venerate
there are atrocities to consider
everywhere
have
you read about the killings in Sudan
or
do you know in the USA
how many will go
hungry
tonight
meaning to question whether
nuclears or
profiteering generally
is
all to count worth while
or is each one
viable
not as a cardboard target but
as really what
we’re made
of
we hear of hundreds
that are killed by
nature or
by us
and the tolls go into recent thousands
and by the end of term easily
a million
tracking COVID
say
unless you conveniently misbelieve
do you know how many
are in
needs
try
one
it’s one
all the billions make up one
that we can
know
and be
and help with practicality
and love
c l couch
photo by Efe Yağız Soysal on Unsplash
I look at this and see a big red hat (trimmed white) that’s shaking out snowflakes through a winter sky, while it’s more practically an overhead (drone?) image of a place along a coast in Türkiye. (Me not the photographer talking.)
Annunciation school and church
shame
what is the shame
humiliation in
allowing such things to happen
such
awful things
and those who seek to move the world
but
cannot keep children safe
by lesser measures than vainglorious
and is that
it
we cannot say
one cannot say
I did this
and the mountains shook
the seawaves vibrated
by my hand
I pressed my enemies into the ground
beneath the beneath
and
took on God’s role for myself
over heaven
over hell
no
we simply mean to keep our children safe
most of us
that is
to remove the means
for harm
from them and from those
who’d
just as soon hurt them
to let Annunciation
say
these are the children
these
are welcome
we will keep these in the world
and
rise and fall by how we do
to have them in the school for learning
in
the church for faith
at last madness all to own
and
did it say
I hate those Christians
for
what is there to believe in
not myself
only the power I might bear
a little while
‘til I’m caught
‘til my
life is over and what
do I care
this is significance
blood
and flame
I’m like a king
a stupid
conniving
thieving king
a king
of nothing
this is what I am
what I’ve
become
and by such cruelty
and madness
I shall die
only
for remembrance
of them
not who I was
but
what I did
and even then only the loss
and hoped-for judgment
of
the flames
except for those
forgiving
even though I hate the Christian
almost
as much me
then
as I must hate
certainly deny
if not
forget
their God
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MINNEAPOLIS — Mass was underway Wednesday morning to mark the beginning of the academic year at Annunciation Catholic School when bullets started to come through the glass.
. . . which killed two students and wounded more than a dozen other people, . . .
(MSN)
https://kstp.com/kstp-news/top-news/ways-to-help-victims-of-the-annunciation-church-mass-shooting/
(KSTP)
photo by Jacob Bentzinger on Unsplash
the children
the children fight to change the world
and to save it
so that
when they’re fat
and old and
heavenbound they know
they fought
for
something and that something
was worthwhile
my bugbear was hazing
more so
and overall
the challenge to believe that
even
and especially when
grownups are
wrong
the spirit of survival and of growth
is in each
one of us however
young
even untried
against
cliques and
cabals
to find the better parts
of
change and what should
stay the same
inside
and in between
the truth in lore
in you
in me
and you know I’m going to say
in us
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photo by Maryn Brayfield on Unsplash
“Exploring”
Time Kept by the Ox and Lamb
Mary nodded
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
A wonderful
Metered
And who knows
Maybe jazzy moment
As
We’re talking
Myth
And magic
More imagination
Overall
The ox and lamb
They kept
Time
While the drum was played
By a boy
Not a grown-up
For this first
Time
Not by a symphony
If there were a chorus
One of angels
It might have gone
Pianissimo
Then
Mary nodded
She could have tapped her toes
Or snapped her fingers
Though she was
After birth
And if she had been tired
She might have been tired
Then
And it might have been enough
To nod
As well as Joseph
After the efforts with all things
Arranging
Only nodding
Too
And then at midnight
All the animals
Join in
With voices we could hear
As being ours
Which is the legend
So that there’s magic upon magic
Contemporary
Ancient
Added to the textual lore
For fun
Perhaps
And without doubt
For meaning
And so let all created things exist
Parents
Children
Animals
Imagination and
Stories to tell
To sing
Maybe like animals at midnight
In a tappy
Or a jazzy way
Even a little wild
Like the passing of the Spirit
Through
And for
All things
C L Couch
The song “Little Drummer Boy,” first known as “Carol of the Drum,” was written by Katharine Kennicott Davis, appearing in 1941.
Photo by Carlos Coronado on Unsplash
For Edwin
Evidently
It’s
Hubble’s birthday
Happy Birthday
Your gift
To us
Rendering so many things
More clearly
Maybe our gift
To you
Our continued faith
In the sky
World Children’s Day
Today
As well
If we remember taking boxes ‘round
With
Trick or Treat for UNICEF
Collecting quarters
Then millions of quarters for
The cause
The cause of
Children
Need we say it
Though we forget
We adults
Forget
Leaving children inside schools
Or not counting them at all
(beyond
certain
grids)
Until they’re grown up
Into rivals
For our power
For our love
In the mean time
They are forgotten fodder
Uncounted
In the strategies for
War
Women and children
We still say
Which
Didn’t work
On liners
Any more than battlefields
Inside
And in back of
Loss
Hunger
And
Disease
And worse on them
Than on
The older us
Which we older ones might not
Want
To believe
Even though
The wretched things attack
Hope
In the young
As well as young awareness
Okay
We’ll say
And even mean
They are precious
And
They are our future
And they are precious
And
They are our
Present
Last Work of the Day
I think
Not of life
But
To move on a little
Unzip the sweater
Change
The shoes
And leave the make-believe
Awhile
How about
As is supposed to happen
We take the feeling of the sweater
The softer shoes
And
Made-up imagination
With us
Then meet
With feathered insights
Muscled inspiration
On
As has been said
The morrow
C L Couch
Photo by Lawrence Chismorie on Unsplash
Alexander Calder, the sculptor/mobilist whose work is featured here (in Switzerland), constructed a mobile for the children of Pittsburgh, which floated near the entrance to the Carnegie Museum—a favorite thing for me, when a child, to behold
Pittsburgh references to Mister Rogers, too
Sometimes a Celestial View Required
Sometimes it’s as simple
As it’s wonderful
Lord made us
And Lord loves us
It might not seem that way
In hospitals
Especially in cancer wards
Burn wards
Terminal compartments
But there
Is love
It’s in these places
In the prayers
And in the spirits
That are struggling all
Around
Where angels
Set themselves as well
To listen
Watch
And weep
On assignment
Forsaken
Never
By the ones
Remaining
(and that’s most
of them)
On our side
A war in heaven
Wars on Earth
Extant
Allowed
By a God who loves so much
To keep us on our own
Even though there could be
Cosmic automation
And so there are
The sides
The wings of war that
Transitory fly
Sinless disease
Conditions
Damage
And those fighting all around
For health
Finally
For all the foes
Of war
Of what we cause each other
And
Disease
By what happens
For a reason
Or by anyway
Keep going at it
Kid
Keep going for the healing
And all you
With the kid
In the battle
All the battles
On
After
The battlefields
Stay with
Us
Keep us going toward
All the health available
On this
Side
You know
And
Yes
Perfectly
The other
C L Couch
Photo by Bernd 📷 Dittrich on Unsplash
we know they’re there
an invention of
the weekend keeping children
out of factories
c l couch
photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Brave Peace
It’s Friday
I don’t want
To talk about the war
Ain’t gonna study war no more
Especially
The war inside
That causes all the troubles
On
The outside
We let the inside
Get away
With so much
Nonsense that is
Nonsense
That gets
To destroy so much
That we were counting on
The way
We count on
Things
Such as air
And sometimes
Heaven help us
Boredom
Why do we let
Invisible
Get away with so much
To say
There’s a war on
And it means so much
Because
A life is gone
And then another
In a heartbeat
Save there is
No more
A heartbeat
And everything’s in pieces
Gruesome pieces
(if you are not
there
but have read All Quiet
on the Western
Front then
you know something)
And also
Walls
Machine parts
That we counted on
Like air
And I guess
That is the thing
There’s no more breathing
Or there’s
Barely breathing
While the world after
Might remain
Quiet
For a half an hour
Or so
And then resume
A way to war
(to study war)
Or maybe
With diplomacy
Or blooded on
The face
eventuality
A way
To rebuild
After war
Though too often
Then
To knock it down
Again
As if hell’s game
Should never end
Except
In final judgment
When the children
(of all ages)
Of beatitude
Shall own
Peace-making again
Outside
The sermon
For the fact
Of sight and sound
Of war
And having chosen
Anyway
The one
Not taken
As the narrow way
And shall there be an echo
For an echo
Inside heaven
And on
New Earth
I don’t know
Here’s one
I note
And now another
To be counting
Or
Not counting
Might be overwhelming
All the believing gates
Regardless
C L Couch
Photo by Shamoil on Unsplash
How to Go to the New World
(either way)
I still don’t know what
To say to you
Today
I mean
This is me
And I don’t know
Not knowing
Words
And something of their use
Often
Re-rendered
When conscripted
Into verse
Or let the message
Be a branch
Or bird
Inside the tree
Or something of the sun
Through clouds
Below
Leaving a gospel
In a shadow
But something new
Or affirming
Something old
Or even ancient
Like virtue
And its complement
Of rules
We take for argument
From Greeks
Who took things
From Egyptians
Then both subsumed
By Rome
And so
What’s happening
In Asia
All the while
And then the holy
And the Roman
Christians
Establish empire
Where for eons
There had been those
Who fought
And
Dwelled
Expanded and
Diminished
On their own
To have the only world
They knew
And it was vast
More than enough
Until the white gods
Came
The devils
To deceive us
A whole world
For its varied understanding
Of
The way things go
And on another side
How seasons
Turn
To go another way
And so subvert
The growing year
Of Gregory
So much
So many
To have touched
On so few
And in one time
And so
Move forward
When complexities
Are
Rife with
Differences
Agendas
Styles
And signals
Of the fear of the unknown
Toward other people
In the shadows
From our light
Whose singularity
Makes others
Fearsome in the dark
That we have made
Much darker
Not
To behold
Their part
In the same light
We could tone down ourselves
And so inquire
Of the ones
We do not know
But could
In openness
And inquiry
The way we learned research
In school
Before the grown-ups interests
And fear for profit
Took us over
We could learn to love
The differences
As might have been
Our first impressions
When meeting
As children
Invested by impulse
With curiosity
And let the world change
With our acquaintance
Let everyone be different
Just a little
For having met
With outstretched hand
Empty for introduction
While the other hand
At our side
Is open
Too
With honesty
Allowed to gain
Through inquiry
And
Once permitted
Exploration
C L Couch
Photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
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