On Waking
How do I wake through prayer
Or other measure
How do I know that you are there
Providing
Yes
Providing
In the pit of pain
Along an indifferent street
Or here
Surrounded by the stress of other people
While my own seems
Toppling enough
Be with me
Lord
And all of us
I must ask you to give
I guess the daily bread
Knowing
The cross should be enough
When I think on that
And sorry
I must ask for more
C L Couch
Photo by Syed Ali on Unsplash
time and not again
a breath into the weekend
I am thinking
for those approximate
to 9 to 5
Monday
through Friday
too
or are you one of those
who does not stop
either by
someone else’s will
or
your own compelling
which
is not
to say you’re wrong
we do
have work
to do
and I served in this way
too
until the first
of heart attacks
then tried to do things differently
and
my supervisor didn’t like it
so I left
and found
the world isn’t ready
for slower people
any
sort
I’m afraid
which is
too bad
because
24
4
365
(366)
is what we get
on Earth
and for our
earthly lives
and how these change so much
through circumstances
though not
to lengthen measures
but
sadly
to truncate
and only in that way
does mortal time
change
sigh
life on Mars
might go differently
or
more likely
could we go like Albert Einstein
over the bridge
FTL-fashion then
return
to find the world futurely changed
and yet again
as the travelers our time
has not
changed a
classic jot
so time is time
and how
to spend it
inside
human parameters
and not that
everything’s our choice
though it is in
our given
nature
and maybe we can or may
choose the time
or even
how to spend it
c l couch
photo by Oliver Hale on Unsplash
Giftings
So let’s
Discover
On the Thursday
Between first and second
Cups of coffee
Near Main
And Walnut
By
The way
With a light changing
From emerald to ruby
Via amber
You know
Through the day and night
What is it
That we want
And shall we have it
I don’t know
What do you want
And may I help you
With that
Do you want something intimate
In which case
I do not know
But if it’s thinking
Over
Something
Which can be intimate
I think
I could help you
By listening
To begin with
And you might find
That’s all you need
Of me
It’s a cheat
I know
Over electronic distance
Though I did not
Invent the thing that both
Makes things possible
And
Gets in the way
Let’s do the best we can
With what we have
And it might be Friday
Where you are
Or maybe finishing the last hour
Of Wednesday
Way west
Of here
Even in Oz
Or Valinor
And if you live such myth
Then I shall listen to you
Frankly
For the betterment
Of me
In storyhearing
Storytelling
Then
With those to whom
To say
Don’t stop me
If you’ve heard this
Because you never have
Heard this
C L Couch
Photo by Izuddin Helmi Adnan on Unsplash
Emerald City? No, Kuala Lumpur. Both places, fictive and real, for stories (fictive and real).
the better reign in hell
(the devil says)
I exhale
you exhale
too
you better
unless it’s your time
in which case
breathe in peace in heaven
where there might be no breath
no need for it
or perfect air
in which to take one breath
or many breaths
forever
and water
such water
drink
wash
whatever
simply walk by
and feel the drops escaping from
the movements toward the
temple of the savior
and the monarch
one of the three
with three in one
and we might be three in one as well
each one of us
flesh
spirit
divine affiliation
life in heaven
noisy
quiet
safe except there were those hints of war
a ruin here and there
perhaps
not because the crafters couldn’t fix them
but because even in heaven
we should learn something
and there was rebellion
after all
or will be
and I don’t know who choses
maybe only angels
and
maybe we’re fodder on the Earth
the middle Earth
while in heaven we mortals-immortals now
much make our choices
too
renew our vows
toward one way or the other
cheering our side on
toward Armageddon
here
and so it seems
by prophecy
on the Earth we’ve known
and might know best
for a while
at least
new to our citizenship in heaven
closer to the leaders
Jesus with his love
Michael with his sword
the Spirit issues strategy
the rows of heaven
know
while God commands it all
and weeps
within a quiet hour in heaven
and maybe all eternity
cosmic
and ethereal
a time for tears
before the onslaught that’s been called
since Eden
or before
when the devil became serpentine
and with all fauna
was given a place there
and something honest
of its nature
but now
there is new gleaming
for the fight
that only one side wants
with one agenda for it
and on two plains
the ranks line up
for the first
and only battle
ever
to determine who shall win
heaven
with eternity
itself
and the reward
of breaking self from all
affiliation
to determine free
without direction
code
or morality to guide
no restrictions
or parameters
only
self
that shall lead to self-destruction
though the devil doesn’t care
for being lord of everything
that’s wrecked
against sub-lordship
subordinate if to only one
in heaven
the lordship
is what sells the angels on its
side
each one a monarch
to its own
and on the full-dimensional plane
that angels have inhabited
in all ages
in the ageless way
and that’s what is withheld
that everyone shall be a lord
of nothing
material
abstract
but over a lack of existence
more and more
in victory
so-called
lords of nothing in particular
having lost all matter
of all kinds
perspective the last thing
to go
perhaps
but something
and then nothing
which shall be the reign of hell
after
exhausting love
until only judgment
must remain
c l couch
photo by Sergio Capuzzimati on Unsplash
On Stairs
I’m lost
Today
Pent up
Stressed
In pain
Depressed
The mental pain
That has expressions
Elsewhere
From neurons
To cells
And how about
Emotions
Where was I
I was sure I was around
Somewhere
Before
Am I meeting the man
Who wasn’t there
An old
And existential rhyme
In time
With time
Maybe I’ll find myself again
Even to know
A thing to you that
I could
Rhymed
Unrhyming share with you
Only my best upon
Request
C L Couch
(something like)
When
I was going up the stair
I met a man who wasn’t there
I didn’t see him on the stair
Today
I wish
I wish he’d go away
(man or woman may apply)
Photo by Atanas Teodosiev on Unsplash
(maybe I should call an existential Tuesday)
poppies for soldiers
fields of poppies
fields of gravestones
all traditions
and maybe
nonbelief
should leave a blank stone
with name and
service
on an even shape
I wish that poppies were
non-soporific
although
I guess the sleep effect
is good
in what the poppies mean
for
those who sleep beneath
the flowers
and the stones
and those who sleep elsewhere
for the same reason
after service
after sacrifice
should sleep
each
should sleep
until the final call
that would be
a gentle and firm word to say
wake now
you’re well
and all
now
shall be well
c l couch
photo by Laura M Goodsell on Unsplash
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
(from) “In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae
At the Crossing
(you know stop, look, and listen)
I still don’t think I have
Said anything for you
In any form
More so
With any good intent
Though I mean well
I care for you
And want you to live well
Helped in some small way
By a word
Somehow from
Me
To you
And so
What shall I say to you
But that I care
And from far away
Which might be safer for you
I can tell you
That you matter
Which
God will tell you better
If you listen
And
Behold
Something useful
Practical
Spiritual
I can say to you
Have said
In that
You matter
And God says so
So please
Listen
C L Couch
if you don’t want to hear from God, then find (a/another) trustworthy source—and I mean trustworthy
(gosh, today I’m feeling, well, moralizing)
Photo by Tony Pham on Unsplash
Road of hope..... [from photographer]
Nha Trang, Khanh Hoa Province, Vietnam
Love Is Come Again
Four Thanksgivings
Four
Christmases
Four New Year’s
Four
Valentine’s
All
These days
Sixteen
Seasons
Every decent lesson
Learning
This is awfulness in charge
Plus the thing
About
We get what we deserve
Rise of the selfishness
The dark side
With
Apologies to dark
That should be
Romantic
And impressive
An evil empire
For those who think
This is
An empire
Not
Better understood
A borrowed colony at best
Over which
Dimensionally
A judge maintains
And will
One day
Make plain
The judgment
Of all things flesh
And spirit
Of the material
And abstract
All names
Obliterated
Unremembered
Like sin
In a repentant land
Rather we shall own what is
Eternity’s
To own
Then
Names and things re-remembered
As it were
One by one
In openness
Of love
So that we shall have
The good
And not so much
Wanting
Any other
Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain
And then
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
Certain songs knowing
By the souls
That move the songs for us
From
Sleeping ground
Onto the wakful earth
Over teaching water
Into faithful sky
C L Couch
“Love Is Come Again” (“Now the Green Blade Riseth”) is a hymn
Photo by Ksenia Makagonova on Unsplash
Each fat round acorn
Under my feet in white sand
An intimate gift
[photographer’s text]
2 poems about thoughts and feelings post-election
About Electing Lies
Well
I am disappointed
So I guess
If I’m convicted of
Many crimes
And I’ve committed fraud
And broken promises
In marriage
And other relationships
So that
In fact
I break faith with everyone
And if I do not pay my bills
And if I want
To accuse people I’m afraid of
Of everything that isn’t
True
If I make a style
In fact
Of lying
And don’t pay my bills
And
By the way
I take everything that’s wrong with me
And say it is another’s
And not me
Though
It is
All I have to do
To get away with
All of it
Is to run for President
And get billionaires
To buy my way
For
Their own
Agendas
The same folk who
By the way
Won’t welcome
Me at
Table
Otherwise
It’s 17 June 1972
Another
Day the music died
And what we learned but that
We cannot
Trust the government
And should stay away from
All such things
And have
So much easier living
Through
Indifference
The Topsy-Turvy that Has No Playfulness in Topsy-Turvy
There are those
Who learn about the Holocaust
And take notes from
The evil side
So that the lie might be acknowledged
That some good things
Happened
Then
In Germany
Not
To say we can’t be academic
Though the filter must be moral
Or we are pursuing nothing
Human
Or has a place
On righteous Earth
We should be
Rhetorical
Understanding something of
Our honest discourse
With each other
And
We should study flaws in that
Tradition
You know
Straw people
Post hoc propter hoc
Gilding the lily
Though
Again
The point is not
To strategize to use the flaws
To dupe each other
Though
Some will
It’s
Sad to know
And one more thing
That should be
And that isn’t
Is that
Politics
Means good government
You know
The pursuit of by the people
And yet
Like taking notes
From the wrong side
And
Going for the
Discourse flaws
Not
To mention
Spewing accusations
In
A puerile attempt
To escape one’s
Own
The codes we could live by
Like good governance
And topsy-
Turvy
Fun on Ferris wheels
But good and evil upside-
Down to try
For ways to live
Simply act against
The deeper
And the shallower things we
Really know
Those presuming leadership who
Act against all virtue
And all wisdom
Though
Might
Try hollowly
Merely to use the worlds
Invite the citizenries
And
Congregations
To subscribe to indifference
To endure
C L Couch
(sorry should there be any ranting parts but not sorry for any easier-living-wisdom parts)
Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash
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