Search

clcouch123

I talk you talk we'll talk

Open Search
Tag

poem

Psalm 39, a psalm of lament

Psalm 39

a psalm of lament

 

Why must we kill each

Other, Lord?  Why is

Cain more of an

Example than a single

Lesson?

 

Your word tells us to

Love; yet you have

Commanded war, I

Know—does war work

When you are its

General?

 

We kill each other in

Small ways as well

 

In kindness withheld,

All respect scorned,

And in quotidian

Wounding that will not

Subside, such is our

Wayward will

 

And lack of empathy

 

Keep showing us the

Better way, O Lord

 

And when we must be

Brutal, let us yield

The field to your

Strategy and control

15

This Is What I Care About

This Is What I Care About

 

This is what I care about

Family—three brothers, sister,

Brother-in-law, sisters-in-law,

Too

 

Niece and nephews, two

Children in the next generation

Four dogs for now, no cats

I know of (since mine died)

 

Friends—those who have

Work and those who need it,

Who are healthy and who

Struggle to get through the

Day without so much pain

 

Neighbors—those who make

Up my community and those

Who try to disfigure it

 

Peace that hardly yet prevails

Love and grace that it might

Abound

 

God who doesn’t need me

But regards me as one part

Of creation, anyway

 

And you

 

For so many reasons

 

For I know that you care, too

10

No Time for Corruption

No Time for Corruption

 

Hell, no time for disagreement

The Kurds need recognition

Identification as a community

Militias need discipline

 

If they’re going to exist at all

Iraq needs to find its center

If it’s going to overwhelm ISIS

And not defeat itself

 

What do we do, we from the

Outside?

 

We have resources, maybe we

Have time, we have perspective

 

More importantly, we can care

 

Stratagems and de-stabling

Agendas aside, sixty-six persons

Died—were killed—in a bombing

In Sadr marketplace

 

I know we don’t know this place

We might not know how to say

It

 

But sixty-six

 

How many families is that

 

I swear, we should invoke the

Real Isis, god of wisdom and

Brother to the god of the dead

 

Let her sort it out, if we cannot

Find the wisdom in ourselves

 

 

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/may/11/baghdad-car-bomb-kills-dozens-sadr-city?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+USA+-+morning+briefing+2016&utm_term=171647&subid=16706344&CMP=ema_a-morning-briefing_b-morning-briefing_c-US_d-1

8

Young Frankenstein

Young Frankenstein

 

This phrase came to mind

Out of the season’s time:

When the veil fails, speaking

Of Hallowe’en

 

This is what those of ancient

Lore believed—that gossamer-

Iron webs and steel-misty

 

Vapors held the other side

On a spellbound, ritualed

Line

 

Except for

 

This one time each year

 

I don’t know what this means;

The child in me didn’t

Care

 

I dressed colorfully, unusually

 

Looked through eyeholes

Of masks sweated ’round

The fabric on my face

 

I was young and relatively

Free

 

To run my neighborhood

 

Receiving chocolate reward

For feeling the thrill of cool

Air as more night rushed

Over my skin,

 

Through folds in costumes,

 

The faster that I moved

7

Cosmology

Cosmology

(who we are, materially)

 

I look away

Not always with my eyes

And I think

 

I cannot see my thought

I cannot see yours

Though I might fancy

In the expression of your

Eyes, your face, your

Body lines

 

That I know something about

What’s going on inside

Of you

 

And if you want something

(Hopefully good) from

Me

 

And I can become

Frustrated knowing that the

Container of my thoughts

Is simply this body

Nothing more

 

How do we get together

How do I get myself

Over to you

 

Maybe I don’t

At least not for now

Somehow electric thought

Remains inside flesh

And form, which

Move if my synapses

Are moving

 

For the better day

When we can do better

Than this to have,

To hold each other

10

Work in Process

Work in Progress Process

 

Blank page awaits

No, it doesn’t wait on me—it’s a

Blank page

It doesn’t do anything

 

But I do

When inspired

Wait—must I wait for that?

 

It’s a process, you know

Discovery and meaning

I might not have just now

 

I might have them later

When in composing

Something happens

 

It’s here—hang on, it’s

Coming

On the way, I’m sure

 

And maybe with regret

I’m late waiting for Godot

The sun sets on my day

 

But wait—the

Breath of day is ending

Yet exhale and breathing-in of

Night is more inspiring!

 

 

(Waiting for Godot, a play by Samuel Beckett)

12

Mother and Father

Mother and Father

(on hearing five of the Solomons

have sunk due to rising sea water)

 

Once and once again

There was a child

The child is Earth

And we are her protectors

 

We are the parents

Of the Earth (earth and

Air and water)

 

For our children

Whom we leave

The planet of our future

10

Jazz Mass

Jazz Mass

 

Syncopated praise

Offbeat words and rhythm

Liturgy and litany

We have our ways to get

Involved

 

Invocated presence in

Bright colors through the

Music that we see and

Feel as well as hear

 

All are especially welcome

Here, for come-as-you-are

Takes new meaning

 

That which is not day-by-

Day is especially

Welcome now and here

 

It’s all right, though, the

Day-by-day folk are

Welcome, too

 

Everything is solid, yes

Though with haze

Around the edges

A cloud of unknowing

Truths because all of

Us might not know

What note might be

Arriving next

 

What might be played

What might be heard

 

What might be

Received from God

Snapping fingers,

Tapping toes, humming

As if the tone were

Sitting right with us

 

Because it is

 

And we might be

Changed for this time

Of many times—6/8,

4/4, 5/4, 7/8—however

It Gospel-goes

 

Out of the blue

Out of the blues

 

 

(a contemporary form of

Christian worship)

2

Rain Today

Rain Today

 

Rain today

So I pray

 

My friend who has a daughter

Who fast-slips like an otter

 

For sister whose new store

An on-line hope for more

 

For colleague who needs work

Through academic murk

 

For brother in show biz-ness

Clarity with stars’ fuzziness

 

Dogs next whom I park,

Cats who never bark

 

A world of tender faces

Food and all home-places

 

Peace ev’rywhere prevailing,

War mindset starts failing

 

Help us now, our God,

To like us when we’re odd

 

In knowing how to love—

Hand inside pray’r-glove

13

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑