the final Earthly war
perhaps
the final war
waged
now
shall be
tyranny versus democracy
and
who’s to win
should be sure
and
maybe isn’t
not
because war must be exciting
fighting the eldritch side
like
Darth Vader should
be fun
like a matinee
rather
because the sides aren’t equal
and the wrong side
material
become insubstantial
yet with what real weapons
real fighters
shall go
down
until the proper victory is called
the villains skitter
off
toward hell
the winners build a present and a future
by
and for us all
and this is the abstract
of the visceral
truth
of it
c l couch
photo by Sebastian Schuster on Unsplash
“diverging motorway from underneath”
two poems about me, all of us
a story for me
(and you)
let’s
see what I recall
she asked me
do you know what your name
means
and
I said
yes
it means cross-bearer
to which she then asked
do you
know the story
and I didn’t
there was a wide river
and a man who
for a living
carried people to the other side
one day then
a child
came to the man
the child requesting
to
be carried across the water
and
so he took the child on his shoulders
and proceeded
and as they moved
it seemed
the child got heavier to bear
and then
heavier
the current of the river and the distance
made
everything more difficult
though it was the weight of the child
that mattered
most
so that the man
said to the child
I feel as if
I’m carrying the weight of the world
to which the child replied
you are
and that’s the story of the saint
named Christopher
and
I’ve kept that story from
my teacher
when in school and to
this day
so
I know there’s much to write about
about
earthquake and war
fire
flood and strikes
and such
and not
to dismiss
anything in the world with which I often
feel
uncomfortable
and yet
must love so much
but
sometimes it is me
as it is you
and we are one by one
as well
as
together
and each one matters
as
togetherness matters
and sometimes
you know
there is the day and only one soul
then
another
and what happens from inside to
the outside
through one and then another
to
the world
eventually
is what we have
one
two
together
more
the world
forever
c(hristopher) l couch
photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash
“long exposure image of a river flowing in the forest”
the better college time
Sunday afternoon
was
followed by the evening
in the chapel
and
we would in the choir sing and then
haul ourselves down
front
for the sermon
and
then would sing again
everyone
we all
took part
and there was a song
we sung
while the church organ vibed beneath
and the song
was
telling us
that some things like this day were
done
and out into the air
back to
our dorms
as
quickly to forget
and worry like wool being
our worries
we tried nonetheless to work for
Monday
if
unprepared
and should come regardless
yet the better words
than
stress alone
now
the day is over
night is drawing
nigh
shadows of the evening steal
across the sky
I’m sorry you can’t hear the tune
until you can
but
there are words
and grammared nicely
if
and as reordered
above
and
(yet)
reading these even just now
might
take you into night
its and our assurance
of
the night
c l couch
photo by Daniil Silantev on Unsplash
red and then orange
though for fall the green has yet
to let go at last
(don’t mean to be on a one-trick pony about fall, but I’m glad to be arriving here and now, now and here)
evergreen complains
you bring on fall all you want
we know how we’ll stay
(this one seems to have come out all its own, as it were on its own)
c l couch
photo by Aurora K on Unsplash
dear God about the seasons
I see red back there
the colors turn
I guess
the last spell
coldish
helped
the sky is blue-gray and bright
there are green leaves
in shade
pre-fall then
and beautiful
for
what it is
plus reminding to us all here
up here
what is to come
while in Australia
and
New Zealand
it is
changing
well
symbolically from white
to green
and of these
the season-tones
I have
I
should gift-thank-you
and
I do
while thanking
and
respecting
of the people
way down
south
as I must think of these
down
while I am up
and
it would be just
to have an upside-
down
globe
to have the downside up
and become
the normal
up
regarding our perceptions
let south be north
for a while
c l couch
photo by Faith Lehman on Unsplash
2 disparate poems (one poem about church, the other about art)
church time
liturgy
a language for the church at prayer
though we can go through
the mass book
on our own
the missal
I should say
not sacred language
in whatever language
unless
there is a translation
of glossolalia
but
as far as I know
normal words
that
enable me to go through
devotion
or a service
on my own
or two could
do
and this is church
is
said
that two or three are gathered
and no more
which means I’m not
a church
by myself
and
should have company
in prayer
and worship
(prayer for worship)
if
we want this to be church
as if it’s us
there is
perhaps while in the formal feeling
again
I ask
does art come from pain
and must it
always
love what we do
do what we love
we’re told
trite
cliché
advice a trope
along with dream big
I suppose
and
we know that life is hard
the artist thrown out from the start
or
disenfranchised once
the vision’s owned
because
normalcy
without a challenge is what’s
paid for
and
not the art
except that it appear
magic
at the show
someone decides to buy it
for
colors that complement
or
honestly could be because someone
is moved
(and
the colors complement)
never pay the artist
though
assuming
grants
or commissions
that for most
are in an air
too rare to breathe
and so
we go like the bohème
in a garett that’s happy enough
while
poor
until the poverty should bring disease
without a cure to pay for
by medicine
or
southern Italy
with the means to rest
and so
sun-heal
and I exaggerate
and
don’t
and so after
losing
what
the ordinary company of
one
next to another
having lost most of the world
already
there is work
and it might be art
and
I think shall be
proving
the thesis of the ages
I suppose
except for those who were not poor
to art
who
I imagine
started out that way
by something else
and then the provocations
to the institutions
true
freedom and creation
that outcast
as they please
c l couch
photo by The Cleveland Museum of Art on Unsplash
Harmonious Times, Paul Signac
my word
(as some say)
I have Bibles around
though having
well
that’s nothing like opening them
and
it’s been an awful summer
and
maybe had I opened one of these more often
I’d have had
not no problems
but closer
to solutions
which
I know sounds quaint
if not
antique to some
but since life and
death
is described and taken on
maybe not such work for doilies
after all
with humor
look up
Balaam
and sex
look at the words
the works
of Solomon
also
Judith
with
all the violence
finally
an end to Earth
with the promise of what comes next
c l couch
photo by Jessica Mangano on Unsplash
pathwork
the poem is a path
I guess
we start
then move down or around
the page
depending on the form
the program functions
we can have translation
if we may
there are pools
from which to sip
and
forfend against the traps
that only rhetors
might
have set
but let the way be easy
through a story
though
the story’s difficult
or
fearful
yet there is a frame provided
if not for comfort
then
to keep going
and you’ll go alone
though
you don’t have to
as
it’s a form for speaking
after all
and even in a hall
to tell of what goes on outside
inside
so where
or how walk on
the path
is wide enough
and narrow
to discover what is offered
only as
we go the step around or
valley
toward what’s next
c l couch
photo by Deborah Goodsell on Unsplash
whom
what
do I want
to say today
but
that you are loved
by Earth
except when Earth should fail
and humankind
with
me
well
until we falter
too
that God remains
the faithful
if invisible
and
yes
that is a conundrum
for apologists
or
simply those who want
to believe
yet
there’s will
and we must exercise
our own
what
to believe
and without good evidence
what
to believe the most
love
faith in anyone
God
in God
c l couch
photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash
clcouch123 
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