Let It Go
I should write early
Then release it
Each piece a journey
If a stroll
And like a tapestry
There’s thread
And there’s a loom
Something
On which something else
Is framed
The work
The weave
Go out in directions
And make patterns
And there are
The damaged parts
But it’s a
Piece at last
For all our senses
And
Overall
The sense in things
[here’s an example, first thing out most recent session, not revised to death—or life if it can’t reach]
Consideration of the Afterlife and Through-Life
So what happens next
The short answer is that we don’t know
The long answer is
We hear things
Saint Paul tells
There shall be no pain
And our bodies shall be perfect
Perfected
That is
Through some sort of transformation
Some new alignment of
The spirit and the flesh
We have stories from
Those who have
Gone
And then come back
And I don’t know
These stories
Seem
To go along with ancient texts
Of many traditions
Many followings
And
Do we translate somehow
Right away
And where might judgment be
How might it
Happen
Christians say there shall be
Advocacy
In what transpires
And that we could
Be secure of heaven
Not for being
Good
In an unerring way
But for belief
Solely by belief
Sola Dei
Sola Christus
Other groups have other ways
To understand and have
The same
To be respectful and to say
Sola-something else
Sola-someone else
We don’t know what we don’t know
But it seems
We do know things
Though it’s all
So abstract
And invisible
What happens
And criteria
Could be clearer
And frankly sensible
As in
Assuring to the senses
That we have
It all would be
Frankly
Less frightening
As well
But then our will would have no place
It seems
And for the loss of Eden
It also seems
That what we choose
Does matter
And there might be no higher stakes
In fact
Sigh
I wish it were all easier
Though even angels
Without will
We say
Manage to rebel
So all things choose
Perhaps
Nature chooses
In the changing seasons
In responding to
New
And ongoing circumstances
So try to believe
Appears to be the way
Do well
Do good
Because it’s better
More uplifting
More constructive
Evidencing of itself
The better way
Thinking
And feeling better
Too
Children
Believe
For we are all the children
And belief is our
Incumbency
Our legacy
Our lore
The words of God to tell
And evidence in
Nature
Clear enough for being made
By God
C L Couch
Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash
“And in death they were not divided. 2 Sam.1.23” (for translation programs)
Poeming Also
A poem on
Anything
Not so difficult
Say
A listing of ingredients
Gives rise
As an epic
Choose
Something else
You know
Something like a star
Track the wording
How shall the phrases
Speak
To one thing
Or how many
Craft
Revise
Get it out
Not
Done ‘til we do that
C L Couch
Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash
[next one should begin "poeming also/really difficult"]
Now the Fifth of July
(in the USA and everywhere that has the day)
Now it matters
The purpose of the fireworks
And picnics
After the celebration
And we hope the
Cleaning up
The life begins
That matters
Because it’s every day
It might not have ribbons floating
Over
Celebrations
It might not afford
Much by way of
Worldly excitement
Being
You know
Ordinary
But here it is
And here’s the test
Which is all right
Because
It’s all the same
We fail to live
We fail
After all
We choose to live
And bless the every day
We have a chance for
A nation
And a world
C L Couch
Photo by Norbert Braun on Unsplash
3 poems and each might stand (I hope) though together indicate a consequential process
What It Takes
The clock
Caught my attention
Because the hour
Had just turned
I prayed
Some praise
Some gratitude
Confession
Both for what I did
And what I should have done
An asking
Words about love
More thanks
A kind of pledge
About doing better
Then
Amen
I prayed what I meant
To pray
And looked up
Caught by the clock again
Four minutes
Four minutes
Maybe a hundred words
Out of this hour
And this day
Of such greater length
God willing
Imbalanced
I know
Terrible things have happened
In the past
And in the present
And we could guess into the future
But we’re taken up with
Wounds
And hunger
Inside ruins
Newly made
And if we could only keen
For natural disasters
Eruptions
Other explosions
Fires we say that rage
Winter storms
With hail
Sudden deprivations
From what developed
Unexpectedly
Then fell
Or rose upon us
Destroyed some of part of us
And will try for more next
Time
And time again
We could devote our science
And our military
Toward prevention
Preparation
Rescue
Restoration
And it would be hard
And often would be sad
And worse in tragedy that
Tears at us
As wars compounded
And the crimes we make
Tear at us
Even deeply
More bloodied
Threatening to take out
All the vital things
That make us
Us
The awfulness of now
And how we do things
Though not everything
Revealing
Promise
In an hour of today
When we let the fields and towns
By plan or by surprise
Be silent
And then we let in
Aid
Or help each other
Anyway
There’s hope in us
You see
Some want annihilation
Crazily
Some go for anarchy
Alike
And some are merely profiteering
On which side
Every side
That buys
But there’s that part
That quiet part
That then protests
That stands in front of weapons
Without weapons
Teaching us
Reminding us
Of how to stand
And how to act
To give ourselves a chance
All of us
The human race
To be
Simply to be
And then do better
With better
Vital
Parts of us
Don’t Forget the Two Parts Out of Three
Then
Or in the midst of it
There’s time
And willingness
To play
Even on a square we find
And sticks
And fashioning round things
For our
Projectiles
Or with time
We go to our closets
Root around
And
(funny)
Root for roots
The ancient games
With gloves and such
We used to play
And might not fit
But we’ll use
Something
And we’ll recreate
Which also might recall
How we had been made
To work
To play
To rest
The first
Time with
Our families
Or friends we met as children
On the street
(urban
suburban
sural)
And then picked up
The games
And rested after
In the shade
And then
Took jobs
And thought the rest
Unnecessary
Even rest
(in the shade)
Though we can have that
Now again
And should
C L Couch
Photo by Callum Hill on Unsplash
Water Works
I’ve written words
Here are some words
I need
More coffee
Be back soon
(soon-ish)
Back
With coffee
(rounded spoonful
thin rivulet
of count
to six for cream)
with some yogurt
Take a spoonful
Have a sip
Still missing ideas
Something
For you
For today
It is
A still day
To appreciate
Before the world’s noise
Returns
The last spoonful
And another sip
What shall I say
Beyond
Let’s have a day
And then another
Should apocalypse
Agree
Though I must
Say
I don’t spend hours
Worrying over this
And what happens next
For I don’t know
And neither
Do you
Which is a way
To say
Relax
Or at least
Worry over what there is
To worry
Over
Say
The health and joy in things
In the ones
We love especially
And the ones we pray for
Known
Or stranger
And more likely both
Maybe the message is
To pray
For there will be answers
And therein lay the risk
That when we ask
Or even state
There will be hearing
With response
Which might be a mystery
I don’t know
How it works
(you might)
Maybe we cry
Maybe
We stamp our feet for answers
That aren’t coming
On our terms
And there’s
The mystery
For there are answers
And why can’t
We always know them
Maybe best
To leave them in the air
Therein is faith
There in
And on the earth
And underneath
And in the ocean-depths
Is love
For us
(for each other
sourced
overall)
From God
Wash in all this
Clean in this
Our cleanliness ain’t perfect
But in what we may have
Be
Real good
C L Couch
. . .
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said: That's good!
James Weldon Johnson, “The Creation”
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
The Mystic, Ordinary Process
(for Evelyn Underhill)
Live the way I want
To
Which would mean
Living with you
With your nearness
With
Your love
And as a recipient of mine
Learning anew to pray
Into the world
For everything that’s wrong
And to keep
As in care for
Everything
That’s right
To practice confessing
Beyond
I’m sorry
To live out penance
Through listening
Responding to the world
And what is needed
Here
There is
So much to do
At Pooh Corner
Though contemplatives might say
The real action
As is said of many things
Is actually in the heart
And in the head
As vessels of the Spirit
Even launchpoints
For the Lord
To think
Canaveral about it all
Then to the world
To the rawness of it
To the terrors
And the grossness
And also
To the beauty
Of it all
This is
So strange
To say
And will you be with me
When my dignity’s
Surrendered
And I stand bloodied
Before
Ersatz courts
Places of injustice
Even fortresses
From which I know
Nothing
Of the entrance
Or the exit
My way through
Must be with you
Even if I’m on the way
To an earthly version
Of infernos
Not because
There is a heaven
On the other side of that
(I’m not that smart
to know)
But because I’m trying
(yes
I know
I’m trying
hah)
And you honor me enough
Bestowing companionship
Which is
I know
Enormous honor
So be with me simply
Because simple
Is all I really know
Not without art
Or an acknowledgement of grace
To have things
Understood as
Special
When things are barely moving
Or
Even in crisis
Something remarkable
(dare I say
amazing)
And when it’s quiet
And as
Such
The hour is
Still
And it’s
Simple
Easy
Once again
Plus there might be someone
And-or
It’s the two
Or three
Or four of us
And that’s a party
In which
Loving things are said
Loving games are played
And we discuss
The nature
And the aspects
And
Well
The now
Also into the future
Of everything
Foray into the past
When necessary
To keep the rest
I know
Real
But it’s now
And you are now
Help me
Forgive me
Stay with me
As I would be with you
Perfectly
But so imperfectly
For now
Until you teach me
In a place of
Frankly
Afterlife and grace
Thank you for faith
And even my response
As is
C L Couch
Photo by Richard Lee on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Ray Bradbury’s Writing Table
x
I hope it’s true
He showed it to us,
Talked us through it
Right before each
Episode;
So many toys and
Other things, reminders
Of this world
And other worlds;
There was a metal
Spaceship, the old kind
You wind up; and
There were toy dinosaurs
And many other things,
Curios and totems
Any of which
Might become
Dandelion Wine,
A Martian chronicle
Or Something Wicked
This Way Comes
x
I hope it’s true
And not a set piece,
Though I suppose it doesn’t
Matter; the writing
Table, writing place
Has been lodged in
My brain, coming
Up as memory
Every now and then,
Evocation of
Evocation, and of course
I have my own symbols
Now around me, and
I trust that
You have yours
x
C L Couch
x
x
The Ray Bradbury Theatre was a show first broadcast in the 1980s.
Ray Bradbury was a writer who created many monumental works, among them Fahrenheit 451, The Martian Chronicles, Dandelion Wine, and Something Wicked This Way Comes.
x
Photo by Charl Folscher on Unsplash
Part of a series of concept photos I took during lockdown using drawing mannequins.
x
Processional
Color is falling from the leaves
I hear wet tires pressing on the street outside
I have coffee bubbling in a machine
The toaster’s thinking about making me rye toast
(I have to put the bread in
two times)
It’s early, not so early
I have an artificial breeze, cooling me and
Inciting an illusion of faraway and underneath, say,
An Arabian archway on the clean edge of a
Desert
Early in the day
It’s cool there, too
Could I ask for more?
Of course, I could
I’m human
But this is pretty good
And I have the keyboard
With electricity
Senses sharp enough to take in more than one perspective
Pretty well,
All things considered
A song is playing
Turn around, look at me
Can you see me?
Can you hear me?
Touch me, taste me, too?
Sniff out the wet day with me?
Certainly, you can
And as far as will is concerned,
You might join me in the senses, too
I have the coffee, now
First sip (more like a slurp) is promising
Soon, there will be toast
I hear the springs just now
Launching the bread
I will put it in a bowl so I can break
It up and let the crumbs (the
bread ash)
Fall
Like the season
I wonder if the bowl was, how it was
Attached to one’s medieval belt
And taken town to town;
Put down money on the bar
To have the bowl filled
With soup or beer
One, then the other
(which first?)
Some work, then on to the next place—a
Forest for the night, maybe near some water
A spire over trees on the next morning’s walking
Signing something built, arising
On the way
One piece of bread was enthused,
Leaping halfway out of the slot
As if to say (Las-Vegas style)
This one’s a winner
So I guess we have computers, now
And carry on with screens
We don’t hand-write our way;
For most of us
Fingertips touching electrons
Cameras that work in that way, too
Numbers so many beyond the f-stop and
The film speed
Well, past time to start my day
I hope you’ll let me think
Of you,
Muse, and all companions
Present and future tense
There you are
C L Couch
Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash
Dyptik Company – France Dans L’engrenage. Ramallah Contemporary Dance Festival – Sareyyet Ramallah/Palestine.
Riding Gimbals
(blank page part 2, I think)
The blank page terrifies
No, it doesn’t terrify
It’s only a blank page
It has no weapons, no teeth
No agency to thwart us in
Our better aims
(well, maybe teeth
and when ink is added,
we say sharper than the sword
But) all we have to do is write
Try crayons as electric bits
There are some screens that let
Us do this
Take a paper page and apply paint
Relax or get excited
Whatever might compel, today
Or write then erase
(I might do that here)
Get something down, send it up
A muse might listen
Write André-Breton-like
But don’t pretend
Because if nonsense,
Say so to yourself
(me say so to me)
Yet we are meeting words again
Something like syntax
The grammar of creation might
Not be so far away
In the room, beyond the wall
Through the window flown like Pan
With lovely thoughts
Or in a recess unvisited
For a while
Pain, if we must find it there
Pleasure, if it’s due
But now some clay is on the wheel
We might need lessons
We might turn it into homework
Over days, who knows
We have what we have and want to do
To say
To be engaged
Maybe we can campaign in this
A conspiracy of art to
Break the trap
Release the net
To let us out
C L Couch
Jerrie Cobb, a well known female pilot in the 1950s, testing Gimbal Rig in the Altitude Wind Tunnel, AWT in April 1960.
NASA/GRC/Arden Wilfong – Great Images in NASA Description, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6448450
clcouch123 
Recent Comments