a few poems for Sunday that for some—well, many—is a longer day not by the count of hours (minus seconds adding up toward Leap Year Day) but the clock that reckons with the strings of heart and mind and even metal, also pendula inside
A Monk Still in the Suburbs
Were there bells
I would not know when
They first struck
An hour
So ignorant am I of
The schedule of
A Book of Hours
Matins
Vespers
The in-betweens
And all-arounds
I have books
I can consult
But I don’t have the instinct
Bred by a lifetime
Even a part
Of a lifetime of devotion
I pray
But it’s my words
I read the Bible
When it suits
When I’m needing to find something
Or researching generally
Out of admittedly
A long life of following
And interest
But I can’t leave my cot
Lift up an over-
Robe (a cowl?) to don it
Over me
Place the hood on the right side
Of my head
So I may see
Then scoot myself in
Silence once again
Toward the chapel where we assemble
(peers and I) for
The first readings
The first rhythms of the day
Much worse
Were I a hermit
With accountability
Beyond a bedside clock
Perhaps
Next to which
A psalter gathers dust
But not the novels
Let’s face it
An anchorite I’m not
Nor a peer
For any monastery
I am brother me
At best
And sister me
As well
And if I have a robe
It’s for the shower
Or I might find for fun
Something Jedi=like
You know
For Hallowe’en
But I believe
And I reflect
I study and I read
(with eyes I have)
And pray nearly
All day long
In dialogue
Simply not according to
The holy schedule
Time Amok
And have we
(have I
yes
though sometimes
I tire of I
maybe you understand)
Thought so much
Of the world
Today
A water main has broken
In the town
And we (locally)
Must worry over
Boiling advisories as well as
Promises
Of timetables
And yet in Gaza
A place was hit
A school turned to a shelter
And some sixty people
Inside
Perished
And there’s a push at the border
Of Ukraine and Russia
With no doubt
A pushing back
While Iran wants to attack
Israel
Over the death of one
Of its own
While Israel
Closes in on itself
While keeping allies somewhere
Too
And in how many parts
Of the planet
‘Sides our own
Is there great flooding
With the consequences
And quake
And fire
Enough inside our cycles
Should we add them up
We could compose
New lists
Of plagues
For letting people go
Which is to say
It’s quite a world we live in
A planet we live on
And we have technology
To follow
More than ever
Better
(stronger
faster
Colonel Austin)
And
Hey
The Olympics close up soon
With all the claims for bragging rights
Displayed
And soon the second set
Will start
Impressive
Being second
(they try harder
as I think
Hertz or Avis
used to do)
Goodness
All the filaments
To make a globe into a lightbulb
Illuminating
All that may be seen
Unobfuscated
By agendas that go hiding
Certainly
I mean more than eyes
And also ears to hear
Or counting each one
All our limbs
For those for whom the count
Uniquely
Goes
(as these next Olympic exercises
show)
With what we have
And haven’t
Se may sense
And we may suss
Adding all we might receive
And so
Abstractly make
A world
To fill in with all the physical we know
And thus have
(from inside out)
What in school is called
A worldview
Our sense
(using sense)
Of how things are
And are perceived
And how we are
With these
Weather
Conflict permitting
Maybe we should each
Take a walk
A little ways
Today
To think
To feel
To probe on this
Like sonar
Radar
Laser
Microwaves
To find the Earth
That’s ours
Where we left it
Or where we pick it up
Anew
As if
Regardless of our age
But trying
Anyway
For the first
Time
Speaking for Joel Chandler Harris and Well Me
I don’t know how correct
Br’er Rabbit is
I mean
I read the Wren’s Nest
And I see the photographs
More so
I want to get
The colors right
That Uncle Remus lay
With Mister Harris
Behind
But it’s
You see
A memory
On records
(those flat black round things
we used to play
that have come back)
And we would hear for hours
About Br’er Bear
Br’er Fox
Br’er Rabbit
And also of the Tar Baby
Black
But what do you want for tar
Which is to say
I want someone more
Expedient and also longer than I am
To tell me
What’s all right
Down South
And in the Yankee land
To keep ol’ Remus in my head
Which by the way
He won’t be leaving
Anyway
Though I’ll hush up about it
If I should
C L Couch
Photo by Hans Eiskonen on Unsplash
alonely
who sang that song
you know
that in a crooning line
about
being so lonely
and who was it
sang
that naturally
is lonely
and how awful is it
really
how far
against the law
all right
if one
were better nature
we would each
have one’s own planet
and we don’t
we have
interlocking parts
quite
frankly
maybe starting with
our fingers
we see into
something
when
we see
into
each other
eyes
not required
we have tingling senses
spider-people
when
we’re sure that someone’s
in the room
with
us
and
yes
of course
we have our voices
that
talk
that reach
through space
or on some paper
through
machines
again
voicestrings
unrequired
we get across
somehow
a message
when
we’re dedicated
to
the messaging
even
urgently
we find each other
speak
silent
say
we need to say
and yet
the bodies have their skins
and in
no way
can we be
each other
and when not
together
there is one
alone
surroundings may not matter
and isn’t there
some goodness there
sometimes
in face
when we think of it
quite often
and shall
the hour
go well
in which we think
reason
consider a resolve
to this issue
and that
one
(sometimes that one)
goodness
we might
write
you know
(you know been
known
to happen)
and so
the goodness
even of the Lord
who made us
one by one
even by one
sometimes by minutes
in between
the twins
of things
the Lord shall
love us
one
by one
by one
and
yes
for sweetness
when
we’re all together
by the way
and by the way
of all things
showing that we’re joined
on planet Earth
in systems
solar
in all companionship
through which is ringed
frankly
the gravity
separate
ringed together
cosmos
c l couch
photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash
Well, I collapsed. Without warning. By the car, outside the store. It was hot and the lot was asphalt, though I was told later on that heat was not the reason (yet unpleasant). Ventricular tachy-cardia. For which I have new medication now, while adjustments have been made to the device underneath the flesh, as it were. And I lived in fear and nervousness while in the hospital, even though the people there were very good to me. It’s the “without warning” part that scares me in addition to mortality.
I exhale now; I sigh. What will happen. But I guess no one knows. Though usually one can guess depending on the current second and the next one, should we have it. And we live expecting that we shall. I have some extra air on me, which helps with the anxiety. Pills to take, then hours to count on and even bear up into a useful mound of current muscle that can be used toward something good. Some small service. Some smaller destiny.
I hear the rain against the window and am thankful.
Thank you. I mean you who hear this, too (who are frankly reading and are frankly reading), and mainly in the moment.
Thanks to you.
to eternity (even from here)
somewhere there was a first creation
first nothingness
first abstractions
of the light
and of the darkness
then the substances
of day
and night
and how marvelous
and then more substances
of water
then of land
and all things
in the water
on the land
how marvelous
an evolution
of grace
and power
that decided to make
to turn around
as on a wheel
an Earth
and on it
us
and then a day
to rest
also
to set the model
for the rest of us
(even
to invent
a weekend)
and also
set the model
for delight
for it was marvelous
all this making
and to set us all
inside it
over it
and with it
work
then play
astounding play
with muscle and with heart
(also) contributions
of the sixth day
or thereabouts
somewhen there was a first day
of creation
and among the things
made
was now
is now
the hours that we have
(nothing like sixty minutes
that are
a useful construct)
the time in the years
of the Lord
until the Lord say
enough with all the brittleness
of sin
and literal degradation
time for the re-making
into fluidity
and solidarity
that last
and do not use up so much
the graying molecules
with the withering grass
and flower
from the center
where mortality
has been dwelling
time for something new
marvelous re-making
(not like Fernando)
into the kind
of sloughing off of cells
that perfectly
shall feed the grass
and raise the trees
keeping inside
the new creation
and
who knows
we might get
to take part
in all this
wonder
(marvel)
like
sand between the toes
like children playing
knowing that this
serves
grown-up causes
too
children knowing this
for growing up
with new allowance
to grow up
a glorious day
as certain songs
have sung
and keep on singing
on the bitter ground
the tarny water
even
of the way
we have things now
maranatha
Lord
and as
Immanuel
be with us
as at Bethlehem
for birth
through all of the experiences
there
throughout western Asia
northern Africa
unto Europe
and the world
as we have marked it
finally
no borders as
seen from those of us
who get
to orbit
except for lines
of wonder
become only invitations
to the flesh of interest
colors that fascinate
with shapes
and textures
for our learning
in delight
for we keep learning
growing
through Parousia
and the new tasks
even exigent
that might be set before us
in what happens
now
c l couch
photo by Eugene Golovesov on Unsplash
A Sleep of Prisoners
A magnificent exchange
Of prisoners
By politics
Years in the making
Like many
Epics
What details we don’t know
What it
Took
To have this happen
By two countries
Cold with each other
In a world
So much more complex
Than what we knew before
(and how tired
must be
those fingers on the buttons
since the fifties)
It seems we can say fairly
Coming home
In whatever state
Whatever health
Free people
Once again
And may we say
Free
At last
C L Couch
Photo by Mario Scheibl on Unsplash
break/dance
in other words
(and
do I mean
at base
at heart)
please
allow
sit
still in
need
be quiet
when alone
then
talk with other
or others
who might be there
who come along
or might be asked
by you
or yet another to
join
then get up
and get on
with the day
we have
as gift
even
smally
domestically
and
don’t worry
the universal wonder
and the joy
are
coming
too
if later when
we don’t know
(and how about
we don’t merchandize
on this)
day
gift
alone
together
break
dance
c l couch
photo by Isabel Galvez on Unsplash
Bread and Un-Circuses
(respecting actual circuses)
Please don’t let them
Tell you
They own these
Or manage them
As on
Great stools
In circuses
(for ticket prices)
Grace and miracle
In miracle
There’s grace
In grace
There’s miracle
And they are free
And should go
Wild-seeming
As they may
Go
Outside
Our doctrine
Though we try to capture them
Ring them
As it were
With naming
Precepting
And merchandising
These better
Things
They happen
In the timing of the Lord
Salvation being instant
And grace
Cooperatively
Then the rest
(of grace)
And miracle
As if wild
Breathing and galloping
Over a health of possibilities
Exigence outside
Called in
By kairotic
Signals
And ugently
Once given
Salvation
Grace
And miracle
Let go by God
And without cost
Or a doctrine of control
But
Freely through
The cost
Divinely paid
Against
The worst of human means
Free of us
They turn around
And turn us around
(they turned from assigned or
unassigned
location
while us turned
by repentance
that means
turn)
To come in from the wondrousness
Of wilderness
To ordered Earth
Breaking through the ordered
Or the chaosed
To save us
So then
These
Beyond subscription
So we might do no better
Than
Simply
Marvelly
Even irascibly
Turn from the other intrusions
Rather
To open
Ourselves
Freely
To accept
Freely
Twice as much
To receive
Then
Feely
Twice as much
To give
C L Couch
(the song with “freely, freely” as I’m recalling is a hymn of forgiveness and salvation, composed by Carol Sue Owens)
Photo by Dannie Jing on Unsplash
A Psalm of Species Complaint
Up high
Down low
We
Freeze
We burn
Our efforts
Rise
And useless
Fall
Or stay down
To
Begin with
An idea
On the table
That might be forthright
But politics
As we
Know
Politics
Destroys
Where is the comfort
Cooling
Warming
Fit for seasons
Which
In time
Or place
On
Earth
Inspires
There is
Something about
Grass
Withering
Though really
It is us
Our synapses
Our growth
Our
Faith inside
And for each other
To give a world
A chance
An opening
Into
The crying needs
The cosmos
Can take in
(when we hear)
And
Why not
Us
Forgive
Inspire
Fund
Allow
Take part
In what comes after
Consider
Now
Of whom
To ask all
This
C L Couch
Isaiah 40:8
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Loss Is Great
(a fantasy)
1
Loss is great
So in loss
Like a song
I wander
And
I wonder
I’m sure the loss in heaven
Was felt greatly
More so
Maybe
Than the war that followed
That goes on
Still
Perhaps
What do we know
Of time and strategy
Among
Timeless
(and all-strategic)
Beings
Will it be over
When
Revelation says so
And how much is this war
Our war
It seems
For lack of orders
We do not fight
In this
And yet
Something like effects
Are always with us in
Mortality
That is
Temptation
Even falls
Great falls
Some of us
Take
And how much influence
How much willfulness
Decided
How much
Or all
Of it
Person or demon
Devil
Behind it all
Deceiving
That seems to be its job
So is the war all
Around us
Because
I don’t think we’re training
For it
I don’t think we’re supposed to be
Fighting
In it
Meaning
I mean
How could we
2
Orders
Above
Has me thinking
Order
Then orderly
(the noun more than
the adverb)
And might I serve as
An orderly
Behind
The line
Fixing
(helping to fix)
Wounded angels
Why
That would be
Wonderful service
Yes
The wonder
In the angels
But the wonder in
The service
For I could not fight for lack
Of wings
Or blades
Or
You know
An unlimited kind of strength
Yet
I could serve this way
To fix the angels
Then with trench-deep regret
Know
They return
And should a demon
Hurt
Come to the table
Then we fix it
Too
Because in love
There can be no other
Craft
No other option
To apply
Though
When repaired
It
Too
Returns
Maybe tries to hurt us
As it begins
I don’t know what protections
Might be
Afforded orderlies
From Earth
(or moon or Mars
depending on the length
of battle)
Maybe no succor
Whatsoever
Since
Triage
Would be for
Celestial soldiers
Of all orders
First
And there’s the word
Orders again
And maybe I wake up
To hear the cry
Or is it
Near my ear
The mourning dove
Through
Glass
And I wake
To mortal pain’s
Return
C L Couch
(one allusion is to “I Wander as I Wonder,” a song by John Jacob Niles)
Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash
alternative adventures
in dreams
and in
daylight
they fought by
dancing
the border dispute was handled
through baseball
I’ve heard
about
chess diplomacy
as well
does anything get settled by a war
with metal missiles
packed with gelatinous
geared
closed-circuit
destruction
is anything accomplished
save
assurance of another
war
staving off the final one
when afterward
all creatures
all things on Earth
are rendered atomized
and silent
in that way
peace without dimensions for
a grave
and so the horrors of these
stalling actions
for a war
having gone through the world twice
and happening
in
victimizing places
now
c l couch
photo by Laura Fuhrman on Unsplash
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