sorry loneliness won’t do
I haven’t said
the Lord today
though God
is in the everything
of thought
and as we say
our word
and
deed
and in which
we also say
(liturgically)
we live
and not merely live
but move
and have our being
proved
by moving
evidently
breathing’s good
and moving
proofs of life
though more so
elements of life
we get
to use
God having approved
by making
by investing spirit
inside cells
and going outward
toward the entire animal
whose skin
and muscle
we might note
admire
and use
to build ourselves a world
of us
and flora for survival
after fauna
an Earth of godly things
an Earth approved
at least for
six days
inside the hours of
the seventh day
in our image
so we work
expending energy
to make
if co-create
while curse
and flaws
get in the way
and nothing lasts
it seems
but prophecy
and that must be
interpreted
while the bias of each age
gets in the way
if biased toward
gravity
if gravity also an example
and indicator
of our lean
toward love
forces of attraction
of
literal energy
for investing
and for building
not a building
more so
an age
for discovery
of people
and keeping us together
for a legacy
so that the Earth might last
according to the order
of creation
as our
response
to the desire
and otherwise the loneliness
of everyone
in
everything
c l couch
photo by Daniel Angele on Unsplash
“Talented Street Musician in Lisbon”
(though with apologies I could call this A Study in Loneliness or A Study in Parallels)
Manic Monday
(and don’t panic)
God sang
The song into creation
The lion did as much
And our holy words
In works
Imply
We are created
We are that song
Or its interpretation
In darkness
And in light
And the bestowal
Of a garden
With the first object lesson
For the teachers
That the garden
Stands
For something we
No longer have
While we must work
In labor
And in labor
For
What we got
Each era is a lesson
We could say
And maybe they progress
The human ages
Which is why
We say
They’re ages
(we get older)
We grow
Some
We adapt
Physically
Some
Though not as much
As one might think
For as long as we’ve
Been here
And this might not be
So much by us
As by
The touch of God
God knowing
We’ll need adaptive parts
As we go on
(grow on)
What do I know
It’s Monday
And I’m feeling existential
With the blues on electric pages
Making less sense
To me
(than could it be
our music style)
Than paper
With its white
And off-white
Receiving of
Our pen strokes
Painting
With black ink
C L Couch
[note to me and now to us
so what’s this poem about?—it’s about thinking and writing, yes, really about both]
I am having trouble with the blue lights on computers. Or the part of the lights that are blue. Or maybe feeling blue. I think it’s both.
The result is that I’m even more recalcitrant in using this thing. This vital thing. I’ve had to use it for a while then rest my eyes. Rest my eyes upon the rest of the world.
So if I’m worse about responding than is typical (and typically it can be pretty bad), then I’m sorry. But as the emperor said quite uselessly, there it is.
--Christopher
Photo by Marija Zaric on Unsplash
Nous existons. Vraiment.
clcouch123 
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