from time to time
and this is what I write
when it’s only me
beside
the solitary act
I mean
it’s only me in thought and typing and for
no special benefit
I think
though in it
something good or
clear
and both
perhaps
from time to time
and
sometimes
(to
confess
that)
things make sense
after
the verse
somehow
and is this why we write
and
it isn’t but what
happens
by surprise
on that occasion
and as the server says
these parts
awhile
c l couch
photo by Csabi Elter on Unsplash
Well and Good
(ironic)
Oh
God
I haven’t thought
So much of you today
Weighed
Down
By my perceptions
The license that I give to stress
And even honest pain that
Doesn’t ask
For this
Forgive me
I guess
Though I’ll be doing it
Again
And
Venial or mortal
I typically can’t
Tell
So that confession
Is not a bust
Though I’m sure
A disappointment
Sigh
What shall I do
To be a servant and
Myself
To serve another
Too
And to serve you
I know
Which should be
First
Sigh again
This might be a loop
If not a cycle of
Post-Edenic rebellion
Which
We set up
As it were
At the start
But is my nature
Always enough
To explain
While I have will
As we always have discretion
Even difficult
In the moment
But I’m sorry
And I’ve thought of you
For seconds
Now
Such a big deal
And should I wake up
In my anchorite cell
Even with a car
For company
A holy cat
By its own calling
Once retrieved
The gray stone
With a specific symbol
On the wall
And a few pages
By the bed
Made out of
Nature
Meaning
Natural things
To know that I’m devout
And here to serve
The people of today
In a world
That maybe strives to rise
Or to wallow
Though I must
Keep the vision
For all of us
That may
Allow ourselves to rise
Maybe through the window
And the windowed world
I have
To look out on the other
To wait
For the inevitable
And then to wait
As in to serve
Responding to their need
And how they
How you
Say it
Then all should know
And you may know
At last
That I am with
All the time
By my own will
My time and style
Though here I am
For now
Small-town
Me for now
With all my errant loves
And wish
I could
Do better
Though for lack of djinn
And also resolution
Remains a wish
Among wishes
For faith
Or for a pony
(again
sorry
and amen)
C L Couch
Photo by José Alejandro Cuffia on Unsplash
(psst, we’re busting out of here tonight—my caption, sorry
and in part of the poem-prayer I’m channeling Saint Julian)
(x = space)
x
x
By Gosh
x
God
Sorry
God
You’re not sorry
In this way
I am
And I presume upon
Your
Intimateness
I seek your pardon and
Too often act
Assuming it
x
There is your mercy
For intention
And grace
For your means
And these are bestowed
Free of us
Our institutions
Our intentions
All of them
x
What we might do
Or think
And shall you always love us
Yes
You will
We are nothing new
And always new
Oldly
And newly
You forgive us
Even direct us away
And it helps
When we cooperate
x
Forgive us now
Forgive me now
Your will be done
And all or ours
Somehow
Beyond our doctrine
And the statements of our creeds
We need them
They compass-point us
We need you more
Who are
The magnetism
Earth and sky
And everything
That follows you
For being made
And not for looking
For you
For they know
You’re there
And frankly
You are here
x
We have to know
We have the will
That took us out of Eden
In the way
Of will
As we shall have it
And while the evidence
Mortally is lousy
Still
We come to believe
With everything
We are
x
Wow
A paradox of understanding
And enactment
Fortunately
There are the words
And there is revelation
In the words
And truth worth following
Unto the last
x
But wishing
Wishing
We could have more
We could meet you
And you’d take us
Hand in hand
As metaphor
More like cell to cell
For real
x
What is real
What is truth
You are both
You give us both
And more
And should we be
Grateful
x
For all we know
And must sigh into
What we don’t
And let that be all right
It is faith
After all
By definition
And by will
x
And how do you want us
But by will
Without the concrete obligations
In our love
But our love
With the best evidence we have
Or more important
Anyway
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by TopSphere Media on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Mille Grazie per Preghiera
x
I feel as if
I should offer
A prayer
To God
For something
x
Gratitude
Confession
Promise or
At least desire
To do better
x
Petition,
Intercession
Plus my own things
x
I’m not sure
How that’s the praise
That’s called for
While it seems
Mostly like complaining
x
Except to say thank you;
Maybe there’s praise
In that
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Wilhelm Gunkel on Unsplash
x
sorry for any Italian language that I broke
x
thank you
x
(x = space)
x
x
There Could Be Light
x
Lord,
I have not listened
I have not loved with a loving heart
But with a larcenous heart
Love for sale
I kept it mercenary
And in other matters
I know I’m not rich
I’m not talking about money
But the other ways in which we thieve
Each other
When we’re tempted
When we’re frightened
When the need is so deep
Or so it seems
Could be illness
Could be we make it so
x
I do not know the path
Before me
Even that there is one
For I have left the way
That had light for
The one walking
In anything like truth
x
There is no light
I am lost
x
I have stopped
I cannot move
The lack of light feels like
A weight,
Though that might be delusion
For how can nothing weigh us down?
How did I feel substance
In the light,
Which did not weigh me down?
x
Well, I’m speaking to you now
There was a spark
Left in my mind
I can’t talk of value with
The one who gave me life
But there is life
Maybe you’ll show me
Speak through one sense
Or all my senses
Correct my course
Give me one
Since I have no direction
And it seems no power
And I have a need
(real need)
To find my light
To find my way
x
C L Couch
x
x
Moody Forest
Photo by Branimir Balogović on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
3 poems for summer solstice
x
x
Merry July
x
Solstice
It’s summer now
Summer weather smacks us
Here
Temps aiming for 90
I guess in Australia
New Zealand
New Guinea
Little America
Winter is begun
Throw logs on the fire
Sing winter carols
Withholding Christmas and
The other holidays
‘Til the start of summer
In December
Christmas in July
A custom mostly mercantile
In the north
Could be the real thing
With trees and
Were it high enough
Some snow
Ornaments and lights
Certainly
Merry Christmas in
Alice Springs
Wellington
Tierre del Fuego
On the Falklands
At the southern pole
Santa’s summer home
Like winter
x
x
Intentions
x
God, what shall I
Say to you?
I worship you
In contemporary ways
I’m sorry for sins
You have seen in me
And known for centuries
I thank you for your presence
Having made all good things
And the ways to deal
With the bad
I ask of you
To welcome home
Those who die
And heal those who live
Cure cancer
End war
Well, I can ask
x
x
Siblinghood
x
It’s like science fiction
Slipping out of time
Our of normalcy
Eating meals on time
Cleaning on a schedule
Ingrained expectations
Instinctive, conditioned
Responses
x
To fall outside of these
To live with fewer clothes
To hope for decent meals
In penury,
To dream of trips
But only travel like Thoreau
Walking to and from
The town
x
Everything else happens
On the inside
How sad this is
At least how strange
But there’s a purpose
Those who fall outside
Will look back
And when not wistful
Will prophecy
In art
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Saint John’s (Midsummer) Fire at Dragør Beach (Denmark)
XSimon, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53634435
x
Lent 31
I’m sorry
Just then, did I seem weaker?
I shouldn’t have,
Though I struggle with confession, too
I don’t know how good this is
Balm for the wounded soul, I guess
Maybe a strengthened bond
In the community
Necessary, I don’t know
For all the secrets that die with
Persons who left unspoken
Matters of regret,
Even tragic
I might do that
You might
It isn’t peril for our souls
Since all is known by
One who judges perfectly
We won’t escape a reckoning
Though there’s a bias in our favor
It is cleansing act,
I think
Not until the next time
But for all time
Technically, it’s preparation
For worship, life in spirit in
A fuller way
Open for distraction
Into heaven
I think I sang in dreams last night
In daytime, it takes practice
Rites partake in that
A life open to soulful beauty in
The music, as is said, of the spheres
But it can go ugly, too
Rough, tear-scoured
Anger exorcised against the
Truth and amelioration
As apology works its way
Through tears falling
One side or the other
(meaning inside or outside)
Confess
Forgive
Let sunlight be cleaved unto the darkness
Patchwork living
At its best
This side of things
All sides of things
C L Couch
by ‘Speculando – https://www.flickr.com/photos/lbarreto/2231876206/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3504753
Songpyeon, a variety of tteok, Korean rice cake
for Chuseok, celebration of the autumnal equinox
clcouch123 
Recent Comments