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
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
x
“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
x
Photo by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
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
x
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
x
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
x
(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
x
Photo by KARTIK GADA on Unsplash
x
(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
x
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
x
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