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
12 February 2024
today is
Lincoln’s birthday
as I recall
most years
uncongealed
from the
single
Presidents Day
and
yes
ten days from now
is Washington’s
Lincoln was
from Kentucky
as was I
though much taller
when he grew
much taller
about everything
adding that hat
for greater
height
he split rails
the kind for fences
I believe
maybe to be ready for
a fenced-in nation
he took us
through the worst
making mistakes
I’m sure
and losing children
maybe
tens of thousands
of these
whose names
might as well have been
Edward
William
Thomas who went by
Tad
the ones who died then
and the others
later on
as
a tragic legacy
and in two days we’ll celebrate
romantic love
which has me recall
the story of
how Lincoln first encountered
Mary Todd
saying he’d like to dance
with her
in the worst way
and then
proceeding to prove that
and she endured
poorly
as the war happened
and then
once it was over
she lost her family
viscerally
terribly
one child remained
as company
for her
remaining days
the President would turn
215 today
which means
he wouldn’t
but in remembrance
where his years
as in heritage
are eternal
he made mistakes
I’m sure
but he was whom
we needed
for splitting fences
in and of
themselves
the biggest
worst metaphors
barriers
having been made
by slavery
with other interests
from the states
that having been decided
in a sibling war
could turn out be
the U.S.A.
a single entity
imperfect
but so far indivisible
again
c l couch
photo by Ron Graham on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Nevereverland
x
Think of lovely things
x
That’s how the magic works
Children
Maybe
Can do this rather easily
While grown-ups muddle
Through self-judgment
And what will the others
Think
x
This is might be why
There are so many children
There
While grown-ups lag behind
In steepled London
x
The children get it
By not getting it
They take the glitter
(who will clean this up)
Do their thinking
No preamble
Stretch toward the ceiling
Of the nursery
That kept them in
(Nana below)
x
And fly
x
C L Couch
x
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“So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!”
― J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan
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Photo by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Two Children
x
Holy Thursday
x
Maundy Thursday
x
Good Thursday
x
Nice Thursday for the church
If we leave off
The arrest in the garden,
Which sounds ingenuous
But the day
Liturgically
Is named for the supper only
And what happened there:
What was said,
Mainly
The command
x
And did they know
By the way
That supper was the
Last?
And looking back
Would the disciples
Want
To have called it
That?
Or did we need a name
And gave it
That one?
(names come after things,
I guess
for history
and liturgy
and calendars)
x
Here’s how it used to go:
We’d have a dinner
At the church
Downstairs
Then go upstairs
(from the social hall)
To the sanctuary above
And we’d have church,
Which is to say
A service
x
And there would be Communion
And we’d conclude the service
There
And it was nice
x
Sorry, it was nice
x
Jesus and his friends
For that what’s Maundy’s
All about,
A lazy term
For the Latin mandatum
Meaning command
For Jesus gave them orders
All the followers
That they should love
One another
x
That a few ages later
We should love each other
x
Good Friday
(good?)
Will
(for a fact)
Be awful,
And in between
The supper and the arrest
Admittedly
Is his time in the garden
Where disciples will betray him,
First two
And then the third
Follower
Who left the supper early
x
While Christ on his own
More than he wished
Asked of the cup
Not filled with wine from the meal
But of the bitterness
Of mortal destiny
Should pass by
As a deadly metaphor
For will
x
And then acceptance
And it’s really rather beautiful
As it is tragic
And then horrible
With an arrest
And all the dreadful
Words and acts
To follow
x
So we should keep the garden
Time
Somewhere in between
The meal
And arrest,
Maybe a kind of vigil thing
x
For the church meal before
And then Communion,
Well,
Was wonderful,
First roast beef
(typically and, yes, like the toe)
And then upstairs
Where we hardly ever
Had church for all of us
At night,
Waiting now
In fact
‘Til Christmas Eve—naturally,
A good association
x
And here’s Good Thursday,
Maundy Thursday when
We are told
By the child of God
To love each other
x
Though I’m thinking now
There are too many things
Too many good and bad things
To come together
Making sense
Out of a calendar
And faith
x
And yet
Bethlehem’s
Christmas child
And the child that is placed
Among them
x
And something about
Leadership
And children
x
And then
All children
Must and should grow up,
After all
x
So there
x
CLC
x
x
Matthew 18:2-4, Isaiah 11:6
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Photo by David Weber on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Covenant-Keeping
x
We grieve
That is the right response
x
It happens right away
And is ongoing
x
Mostly it’s the loss
And who’d have thought
x
Regardless
Of the news
x
It should happen
On a school day?
x
While we still think
Of school days
x
The days when
Sun and light should happen
x
On the playground
Or we stay inside
x
When tension in the classroom
Over subjects is enough
x
How did we make the trade
Of shoes on tile
x
For the reports
Of guns instead?
x
For now it is the loss
We don’t want
x
To imagine
Even though there are
x
Those who must
See and hear
x
And every other sense
Invest
x
In the lifting
And the carrying away
x
Even then,
Through the earthly horror
x
There is what’s inside
Now gone
x
To grieve the most
Shock, fear, crashing grief
x
Anger and activity
And needful inactivity
x
Maybe someday about
The keeping and the letting go
x
C L Couch
x
x
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Dark Peony
Photo by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Killings in Thailand
x
They were brought
Juice and popcorn,
Dolls
Everything they’d need,
The children at the daycare center
x
But this was funereal
The children had
Died
Killed by a madman who killed
Others, too
Killed his family
Lastly, himself
x
The families brought juice and popcorn,
Dolls
Snacks and toys
To the daycare center
For the children to enjoy their day
x
Everyone had been to the temples
Then they came here
x
Come back home
Come back with us
x
The parents
Parents and the living family members
Said
Pleaded
Cried
While exuding dignity,
Respect
For everyone
x
Come back home
Come back with us
x
They were there
At the daycare
Leaving presents, organic things
Symbolic things
The children would have used
At their age
For their lives
In the daycare
x
Everyone had been to the temples
More to follow there
Now they are here
x
Come back home
Come back with us
x
They can’t;
Insanity
And criminality
Has taken them
x
Spirits
Journey
Hard
But shall be
Reunited
Wrongful death
Owns no victory
The children
Other victims
Know this now
They shouldn’t have to
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Charlotte Seo on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
We Prayed Today
x
“Today is a privilege” she said she’d
Embroider on a pillow
And on the other side, “I’m still
Breathing”
Because for all the despondence,
The despair we take to prayer
In our group,
There is beauty and joy
And so much to love
In fact, it’s what we love that turns
That often
Leads us to prayer
Compels us
We pray for the good things, too,
Wanting the goodness
We pray over cherishing the messed-up
World we have
And the messed-up lives we care for
And our own
We say amen
Knowing it’s never
The end
And we say thank you
With intention
We mean it
We are grateful
x
C L Couch
x
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Photo by KARTIK GADA on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
They Wave Farewell
(Memorial Day, USA)
x
Red
(with white and blue)
Waving over fields
Dropping morning dew
x
For us
It is remembering
A waving day of it
Poppy remembering
x
Nature teaches
And must be
A burying place for war
The fields wave
The children wave
We wave
They wave farewell
x
Nature weeps
With dew, with rain, with
Anything that falls
All of us may fall
And weep
We may weep
For the children
(all are children)
Of the world
x
C L Couch
x
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Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
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All the Children
x
It doesn’t take much
To go into a classroom
Filled with children
And a teacher
Carrying guns
And then proceed to shoot
There are no opponents
And no challenges
There
Where is the victory, then?
The mannish triumph?
Only destruction
Taking lives
Of those who don’t fight back
Cowardly command
Of a situation
Why not keep it to
A video game
Electrons make the hell of it
Pouring onto Earth?
x
This does not address
The visceral:
The violence of bullets
Piercing children’s flesh
And what the bullets do,
Once inside
Was this accomplishment?
Or would the defense
Have been insanity,
Should the shooter
Plan to live beyond the killing?
x
We’ll never know
There might have been no expectation
To live, after
It doesn’t matter
Unless to know
Somehow prevents another
Time
Of people killing children
Because they can
x
C L Couch
x
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Here are the latest developments in the Uvalde elementary school mass shooting
As the town of Uvalde in South Texas mourns the killing of 19 students and two teachers at an elementary school, a vigil was held for the victims at a community arena Wednesday night.
“Amazing Grace” was played as those in attendance wept and hugged.
The mass shooting on Tuesday has again spurred statewide and national conversations over gun control, following on two others over a two-week period —at a supermarket in Buffalo, New York, and a church in Laguna Woods, California.
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Down Roads We Go
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
New Forest National Park, United Kingdom
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