Heat
(a kind of review)
Fire burns
Which means that for survival
Fire’s good
And yet fire destroys
The fuel we place
But
Everything that gets away
The flames that ruin homes
For animals
For us
And everyone
And everything
Of course
That burns
The spirit of the Lord
We equate with
Fire
And I don’t know what is means
By denotation
To fire as in to separate from
A job
Still
It is ubiquitous
It seems
Like “they”
And though its forms seem drastic
As in warming
As in cooking
So we live
And by heat often through the night
And yet
To take away survival
Too
There being the matter of its
Wildness
That is the problem
That makes the thing hideous to
Destroy
Without fixing as much
As only to build over for
Recourse
Yet there is God
Again
Whose spirit is not wise the way
We think is wise
And is not
Tame
The way we think only in formal matters
Should God
Be relegated
Rather
God is wild
Even in wildness
You know
The wilderness
Which we won’t like for lack
Of building
Compartmentable
Purchasable
Convenience
(and the promoting of a market)
And
Who knows how God might feel but
Uses such heaths and
Pagan places
Anyway
Tame and wild
Which shall we have
Of course
But both
Let God normalize
And let go
If lovingingly
Amok
Like fire
In a frame
And who sets the flame
(out of
lovingly flammable
inflammable materials)
But the tame
The comfort in
The very God while also dwelling
In the zealous flame that both
And must
Love
As well as
And often even as
The heat
And I guess we must mean
The heat of all kinds
C L Couch
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
“Bonfire Night”
The Winter Mind
It’s late
Long shadows
Winter-coming ready
Longer
Sooner into darkness
Though the thing
Take
Just as long
As any other orbiting of
Earth
It is a winter mind
And winter body
And the
Spirit
We’d like to think
Ready
Always adaptable
But
There is
SAD
And something older
Something eldritch
In the residence
Of spirit
The reason for the bonfire
And the special words
The dancing
After
Knowing that our planet must
Turn the other way
For melting
Seeds
And more
Come spring
Don’t abrogate our lights
The gifts
Of artificial power
Any more than wood and oil
Have shown our way
At night
And yet
Remember we are
Evening people
Too
Affected by the twilight
As it ebbs
And flows
The seasons
Of our kind
And with so many
Sibling species of
The world
C L Couch
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
Ancient of Days
God
As God
Requires
That we love God
With our minds
With our hearts
With our souls
And that
We love our neighbors
As ourselves
Which does mean
Self-love
Must be in there
Too
It isn’t a request
It is a command
From God
First command
Second command
At least as Deuteronomy
And Jesus
Has arranged
What we are told
To do
I know we see all this
As optional
As if God required less
Than the military
Or our bosses
Or out contracts
Though these came first
And do not change
With rank
Or a new job
It is a
God who commands
For whom blood was required
And a nation follow
Or be brought down
Be outcast
By the power of
Worldly forces
That won the day
Because the people had
Abandoned
God
And faith
And certainly
Obedience
It all seems ancient
Irrelevant
And at best
Relative
Doesn’t it
We moderns do not live
This way
We don’t fret over altars
Or unblemished offerings
Not of animals
And certainly not
Ourselves
We take the dross of doctrine
Leave the rest
Inside the book
Inside the church or temple
That we enter and exit
Now and then
Even weekly
Without doubt for holidays
Yes
Without doubt
This year
God loves
God waits
God invites
God doesn’t require
Fancy dress
Or best behavior
God love us as we are
Wants no change
Might wait for deathbeds
For confessions
And an
Affirmation
Guaranteeing heaven
Or God’s our pal
And pals don’t leave other pals
Out in the dark
The rain
By the gate
That we’re sure will open for us
God’s our pal
The dross of doctrine
Looks
Behavior
What we give
Whom we serve
Tangential faith
Appreciation for the invitation
Please stand by
The modern spiritual life
Lukewarm at best
And it seems
God doesn’t cotton to
Lukewarm
Or bits of this or that
That might be good
If only by
Our arguments
Or statements
To the press
Or whoever might be listening
In the mirror
We’ll get around to God
Perhaps
The way God is
And what God wants
After work
And after home
And after neighborhood
Relations
Maybe during vacation
Or really
After
Maybe when we’re there
And hear a sermon
We could instead
Think about what God wants
Think in our own way
Decide
In our own way
Maybe after entertainment
And by the way
For a show I pay with some money
In the plate
This should all be more
Impressive
Than it is
On my own
I might do better
Find better
Maybe I don’t have to come back
So much
A touch of religion
Less of faith
Nothing like
The mind
The heart
The spirit
After all
Faith is not that smart
It’s not material
Enough
It doesn’t admire
What I do
And what I have
Enough
And I don’t see faith
Changing wars
Or floods
Or earthquakes
After all
And how did people
Used to believe
With dead animals on altars
No
Thank you
I’ll take life as it is
As it’s progressed
As it’s civilized
With all the medicines
And the technology
With the better weapons on our side
How relevant
Is a faith in God
How necessary
Children know what to do
They have Mister Rogers
Sesame Street
And everything else
Approved
For their good growth
They are healthy
I’m sure
And if not all of them
Well
They were slipped through
The loop
Somehow
And that’s too bad
But most of them are fine
As most of us are fine
What more
Can we want
And God
Well
God
An invitation
Well
That’s nice
Maybe when I’m older
Have less to do
Fewer things
To worry over
Figure out
Make plans for
Yes
Then I’ll have time
Really to think about
Religion
And what a God
Might really want
That I could give
I’ll have less money then
But I’ll time
Yes
I’ll have time
To give you
That’s all right
Isn’t it
I mean
You’re a loving God
Which means your patient
Right
You’ll give me all the time
I need
C L Couch
Photo by WILLIAN REIS on Unsplash
gifted
I’d like to give you each
a present
though I’m poor
and not the kind of poverty
that saints admire
for I have little
mystic understanding
and what I have
is tied
to nothing like
how much
how little
I have
I’d like to say
go slowly
as the Buddhists
say
especially
when parting
I’d like to say
remember all your loves
made up of
reason
practicality
and balance
not that passion
doesn’t count
it does
but there should be a measure
in most things
of what is right
and what is easy
(like
Jack’s pieces
well
maybe not so much)
which is
(really)
to say
let all good things
have their place
and do not rearrange
from the heaven
of creation
and the philosophy
inside all things made
for there is
certainty
as well as confusion
the way this world works
and don’t deny
the sure things
that you
and others
who are smart
and might be trusted
might ally
I’d like to say
think God
(like another movie)
though I know
that’s not enough
or I could say
love
and let love
not frilly silly
(‘til the day)
but steady
and trustworthy
have its say
and guide
however trite it sounds
each day
I guess
some things are cliché
like the way we use
iconic
meaning not a symbol
but celebrity
believe
and love
so common
(a cliché)
and yet maybe
we can still ourselves
and our sophistications
to accept
that some things
important things
the most important things
are commonplace
no secrets
no requirements
but to accept
what is instilled
(installed
as it were)
within internal palaces
or offices
or bungalows
(I’ll take a wooded cabin)
in the mind
in what we call the heart
in what really is
the spirit
might be
an alliance of the spirits
one by one
within
between
our groups
our nations
for an errant world
on its quest
our quest
to grow
to acquire
and to save
good things
and we could have rituals
and easiness
(not mindlessness)
in what passes
from the Earth of now
into
the next
of now
c l couch
photo by Luca Pennacchioni on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
The Real Thing
x
I am not in the war
Except
With my mind and heart
My contributions
Here and there
Not for a winner
But for everything
To cease
While there are citizens
And innocence
To count
x
I can’t imagine an explosion
(over me
and I am done)
Next to me
So that I live
But everything is changed
x
For what
And whom I’ve lost
All basic things
And anything
Refined
x
A world that’s there
Even to know
The risks in temporality
And to persist
Then what I know
Is gone
And I am hurt
My body
And my mind
x
I might get fixed
But something will not mend
Something broken
That the screws
And prayers
Cannot reward
With success
x
Some part of me
Who wonders now
A beggar on the plane
Of dreams
And real hours
When I dance
With hate
And seeming
Justification
x
For it all
To have happened
And it’s happened
So that
There’s an end
Before the end
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Jeff Kingma on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Something Borrowed
x
Something swashbuckling
Is on TV
Something with Burt Lancaster
Leaping
Like the lords at Christmastime
I turned to this
When what was on
Intentionally
Blacked out
Indicating maybe that
The TV is getting old
Like me
Sometimes I lose
My signals, too
The synapse breaks
I must
Turn to something else
x
C L Couch
x
x
The Flame and the Arrow (1950)
x
A ball of energy with electricity beaming all over the place.
Photo by Hal Gatewood on Unsplash
x
Step Sessions
We have a journey to go on
Called today
I don’t know how many steps we’ll take
Maybe we’ll travel like Thoreau
Considering the cosmos in a walk to town
Maybe one place will be literal
The other living
Where stars are born
The nebula inside
Cradles of thought
To set us on our way
Until the dark of night brings out the offspring
Literal nebulae
A star for each thought born out there
A universe of mind, as it may
Marking a journey
Like our own,
Roaming energy
Through two sets of cells
Two trips going inexorably
No competition needed, no going to war
We can have quiet or make noise
Any media for growth
Though I will say
Maybe going gently’s not so bad
In a night of stars
As thoughts and ours
How many steps a journey?
Some might want
To know,
Which is okay
Let the universe and us
Decide
C L Couch
“Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas
Photo by Aldebaran S on Unsplash
Heart Nebula
Saving Graceland
1, Give It Up
And there are the things that happy
Anyway
Bad things, starving things
Taking from life, risking faith
At each turn
We lost someone close
We lose a job
We lose a place
We lose what we thought
Were good associations
We lose something in ourselves
We lose some health
We lose materials we think we need
Because we do
And where is belief in this,
Where are you?
You’re here, but we don’t know how
So we give up
Or don’t embrace in the first place
Because there’s honest reason not
To take hold
We might even curse God
Denial
Or the arranging of an adversarial relationship
From then on
We take down faith symbols that were
Totem as well as decoration
No beauty there
In truth,
No more
And what’s to bring us back,
To move us on?
We’re grown up, we don’t need you
We only need ourselves
Maybe with like-minded
Maybe not
2, Restoration
I don’t know how each one
Might come back
Or start at all
I mean, there is confession
And repentance,
But what about when no one’s
Done anything that’s wrong?
I don’t mean venial
Considerations
I guess I mean victims
Who comes back from being robbed
Of life,
Of living goodness?
And if there were no faith
But awful things have happened,
How might it begin?
A blank slate would be easier
To mark on with good lessons
Or reason through
Someone’s apologetics
That happens, and it needs to happen
But wondering from a point of loss
Of theft
Of trickery
Or manipulation
Then believing again
That everything with truth and beauty
Might return to the mind’s eye
The vibrations of the heart
All the evil stuff to be forgotten
No, that’s not going to happen,
Though there might be mitigation
For a start
3, Landing
A favorite way in stories to rid oneself
Of evil is through laughter
For evil characters often hold
Themselves and what they think they have
Too seriously
An argument of one that must be global
Humor, a healthy kind
Even if delivered in exasperation
Cuts through the agenda
Exposes the lack of clothing on
Self-styled emperors
Not that it’s the only way
Or on its own an anodyne
But healthy humor
Like right thinking
Goes a way toward righteous victory
Perhaps in metanoia
Though there should come
A sober time for reflection and
Decision
Or (and) simply to feel it through
Faith is funny
Worse, it’s foolish
Even if it shows the way
Turn over folly
To find some wisdom
The way some lies are best understood
Simply in opposite consideration
(take out the “not” or put it in
around each lie)
A different kind of foolishness
Made wise
Toward what we need
And where to have it, here
And on the other side
In certain testimony,
Something about rooms in mansions
Finally, though, we must face the hurt
We won’t want to, which is a good
Sign
We’re on the way to something real
Don’t worry about being smart enough
Unless it’s also made aware
How to get smarter
Don’t let your ego, on another hand,
Make choices for you
Finally, you know, it’s faith
It’s choice
It’s a choice we make
It’s the kind of choice that anyone can make
And if you think someone cannot make that
Choice for deficiencies,
God will think this, too,
In God’s way
Nothing needed will be withheld
To guarantee the offer
Or the taking
We all can be there in
Graceland, one by one
And all together, starting
The process anytime
C L Couch
Photo by Mahmudul Hasan Shaon on Unsplash
Transcontinental Railroad
In a slow place, I wonder
I know, places are for walking
Wonder with an a, to wander, then
But the movement on the inside is
What seems to matter
The value in introspection, of hiking the
Mind on another side
Thoreauvian travel, as it were
I was told he walked to Concord often
From the pond, a matter of some
Miles
Not many
And this defined great travel to Thoreau
Because of how he trod
Through the
Interior
Pathways and passageways
That were of value to him
Through illumination
Pegging a lantern of discovery from
One part of a dark way (now lit)
Into the next
It’s like an empty railway
The bed and ballast, maybe ties
And
Will a set of rails
Then a train course over
Or course through
A plain, a valley, and
A tunnel
Maybe new passageways
Unvehicled
Lacking mechanism
Discipline
No timetable needed
Or requested
Ambling through the corridors instead
And hollows about discovery
‘Til a slide or lack of entryway
Makes us
Go ‘round another
Corner, a bend
Take an unmeasured angle or,
Who knows,
Set up another platform
We go
Out of order,
Unprepared
Or maybe all aligned
To find
Anew
The course
Or, yes, the track
Of inner life
Less taken, maybe
Maybe difficult but
Brave to try
Take it
Like the flyer (Dixie or
Overland) upon the rails
You
Be the kind
That must stop to rest,
Out of respect
For human crossings,
Not to freeze up at
The borders
‘Cause
Neither they nor you
Have to
C L Couch
Railway tracks in the sunset. Taken at Frankfurt Central Station.
clcouch123 
Recent Comments