Four Is the Magic Number
(here if not on the School House Rock)
Honestly
There’s God
And also me
And you
And Earth
And what is self
And what is other
Goes fluidly
In
And through
And between
All things
In all dimensions
And we are close
And we are far
Apart
And yet
Always the next best thing
Is you
And/or me
And Earth
It’s what we got
There might be
Nothing nearer
Or more
Joyful
Either
So relish in existence
Keep it simply
Joyful
In the four things
Four elements
Four essences
We have
With currents
Moving through
And ‘round
And in between
All four
Or if you have it
Fewer
Or more
C L Couch
Photo by Elimende Inagella on Unsplash
(x = space)
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3 poems, when you have time (one poem about observation, one about reading, one about war taking all)
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Observe and Report
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For preamble
Nothing like
The burdens of a people
Upon Joshua
Or Caleb
x
What’s petty
What is meaningful
Too often
I don’t know
I pick up a stone
It’s not a park
There are no regulations
I take the thing with me
Becomes an artifact
At home
x
I am reminded
Of the Earth
We are set on
So many layers
To the center
Countless to go out
Again
To try to count
x
Clueless
It and I
While it’s supposed to be
And I think I should know something
About the atoms
The formation
Its place
Near my fingers
When I found it
When I take it up
Look upon it
Now
x
x
Read Me
x
Not unlike the words
Commanding
Alice
To forward
Her adventure
x
Words
Well
Words have
Such value
So the lines are short
While
Reading slowly is advised
Going slowly
Generally
x
Yours should be read
This way
As well
x
Time is a treasure
Though we should parse it out
Surrender it in particles
x
Not worrying so much
About the measure
Since the bill
Of sale
Is not our own
But investment the creator made
Inside creation
x
So let’s take our time
As said
Although again
It’s not our own
But lent
At best
And for our use
Simply
As use
x
Please take time to read me
I’ll take time
Reading
You
And then there’s
The needful time
For vital
As in lively
Response
x
x
War and After, After
x
The wars go on
Again
I can’t imagine
The explosions
The dust
The rubble
And the blood
Beneath
x
And the things of blood
Of bodies
That once held the lives
Of souls
While here on Earth
x
Now stolen
As if by gods
Self-styled
With machines
Black and pretty
Smithed
In hell
x
And this is metaphor
Impressions
The real thing
For those alive
Is all about
The running
Avoidance of more anything
Like that
Again
x
And then it happens
There is more
It’s worse
Nothing inside ourselves
Ever
Really
Gets used to it
x
And then
Maybe there’s a moment when
The silence rings
Notes of nothing
Anymore
While looking
Touching
For flesh containing life
We might embrace
To take
And to offer
What we have
x
And there might be people
Come from
Too short a way
To find us
For ourselves
To treat us
Representing
Something clean
And institutional
Away
x
We might be taken there
Where
Objectless walls
Close in
With noises in the distance
Or have we brought them with us
And is it noise
That closes in
The distance
x
We need medication
Sedative
To leave all this
Except for bodies
That have names
xxxxxWe cherish both
xxxxxWe want them
xxxxxHave to search for them
xxxxxTo know them
xxxxxAnd to have them
xxxxxOnce again
x
Though we might have to settle
In without response
While life is measured
Sometimes
Without
The power to the building
And their efforts
And the dust
And rubble
That came in with us
x
The war
The damning war
The reason we say bloody
For the worst
Things we can think of
x
Fleshly containers
Holding flesh
Until they must
Let go
x
Who are they
What are their names
Who are we
Where are we going
x
War take all
Peace for the remnant
The ghostly revenant
Left over
The dust
Of everything that’s taken
For what’s left over
To remain
x
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Ansia Lasa on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Form
x
God
I love you
Even though
I’m unsure of the terms
Or attitude
How to be both
Obeisant and
Democratic
x
See
You’re a monarch
Absolute ruler
Of the universe
(more than He-Man
or She-Ra)
While for now
To mortal lives
You’re also
Frankly
Invisible
x
I may say
You’re in the wind
Your fingerprints the bark
On trees
And all the patterns
Helix
Hexagons
The nautilus
In nature
x
We may say there’s evidence
I may say
And I believe
The wonder inside everything
Indicating
A wonder-maker
x
And there are words for you
As you speak
To Adam
Eve
And prophets
Though you tend so speak
Through agencies
Especially after Eden
Still
We say your words
Which is all right
For me
x
You are layered
Through the books
And we must read
And listen
Let it sink
Through layers
Into our own deep places
Reemerging
Into peace
And promise
x
We are surprised by joy
x
But who are you
And how are you
An image
In what ways
x
And how are you
Today
x
How is it to know you
And to live with you
Really
We wake to a clock
And then what
Should happen
x
There are domestic
Possibilities
When Jesus says
To wash and comb
x
When mourning
To offer in the temple
Our poorer
Open selves
Then give
What for each of us
Corresponds to the
Widow’s mite
x
We know you count the hair
Track the falling sparrow
Offer bread
When sinners offer stones
Plus you prodigally receive
Whenever we return
From profligacy
Spending our inheritance
The gifts you gave
And what we have
From the world
All gone
And only we are left
As shells
Needing frankly
Food and water
x
And then you give us
Feasts
While the righteous and the stern
Glower
While serving
x
There is that stream
Of course
We wander by
So I guess you somehow do that
And in some form
So we might walk
Together
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Luke Ellis-Craven on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Eighth
x
Remember August
Starts in gold
And ends
Overlapping
With the wind
x
The next month is seven
Prior for the emperor
Who never was
And was the first
x
Ten months
And we have twelve
The ones we know
Who count the calendar
Finally
The pope’s way
x
But each month
Has a treasure
In its story
x
This month starts in gold
And ends with
Windy promises
In these parts
Of autumn
x
Unique
What happens
In your days
Divide them up
And celebrate
The units
In your month
And what I hope is your
Many-monthed story
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
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The Magician’s Children
x
Lately,
I’ve been seeing my face
In other faces
I look for a few moments
Sometimes stare
Then realize
I’m looking for
More signs of me
In you
x
C L Couch
x
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Photo by Guillaume Bleyer on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
When Worlds No Longer Can Collide
x
This is not
What I want
I want the innocence
Without the naivete
x
I want
To like the colors
All of them
The rainbow
And the color wheel
x
I want
To enjoy
The softness of felt
From the playful
Learning boards
Of childhood
x
I want
To be both
Simple and profound
To have some shapes
Some textures
That have meaning
Day to day
x
That all of this
Is my philosophy
And if I wear a tie
Or shiny shoes,
No one should care
x
But me
And you
With whom I share
The pleasure in the day
In the life
And we have met
Should we meet
Choosing to sip coffee
At a café by the lake
In Switzerland
I have made up
x
(made up the café
and your company
not Switzerland that
has been around
for a while
and I’ve never been there)
x
I’d like anyone
To get this
For pursuits,
Philosophy
Share in it
In these
Make your own
To have
To offer
Where you imagine
We might meet next
x
C L Couch
x
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When Worlds Collide is a novel by Edwin Balmer and Philip Wylie. There is a sequel titled After Worlds Collide. They are science fiction, and I recommend them.
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Photo by Danny Lines on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
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Deal-Making with the Lord
(sigh, didn’t work for Moses)
x
Lord,
The stomach feels
So tight
I’d like relief
Though
Really
At the source
x
All my troubles
I can’t escape
Them
Though I could
Escape a few
x
And is
Escape the answer?
Probably not
(worse the
luck)
I imagine there is
Something
By the way of
Resolution
x
But some things,
I think,
Can simply
Be made better
Call it grace or
Miracle
Or one side
Of a pledge
x
Please, Lord,
Ease
The pain
Give me days
Without
The consequences
I’ll work
On the rest,
I promise
x
C L Couch
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x
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Photo by Ella de Kross on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Look Out
x
Do I write
For affirmation?
I don’t think so
That wouldn’t work out
There would never
Be enough,
Wrong category
x
I think I write
To say I’m here
(I think that’s
self-affirming)
More so, is to call
Anyone out there?
And there you are
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Pascal Debrunner on Unsplash
The Rise of Orion
x
Praying from Democracyland
Okay, God
You and me
Don’t you have
The poor end of the stick
I can rely on the other end
That’s you
I treat you as a friend
Sometimes as a phantom
Sometimes wish you down
Upon my enemies
With fire and menace
But then consider
Those for me
And cease
I have to
That is doctrine
Sigh (a real, stage, and
spiritual direction)
You are the source of power
Start of majesty,
I know
I treat you like a pal
I shouldn’t do that
But you are the source of love, more so
And I don’t know how to deal
In that,
Snubbing all formality
In wanting easy terms
For us
As a suggestion, let’s read your gospel
Much of that has clarity, I know
And honestly the fuzzy parts
Are interesting but not compelling
Either way
So I’ll rely on truth as
I can get it from
A reading and a prayer
You’ll be there,
I know
As in everything you started
The skies
The world
And me
Anyone who listens
Or does not listen
Who hears but does not hear
Sometimes like me,
Though now
This is about you
C L Couch
Photo by Cole Keister on Unsplash
Condensation and fresh raindrops against the window of our car during a trip to get donuts in Portland, Oregon.
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