word
oh
I don’t know
the word should be
love
shouldn’t it
our shibboleth
perhaps
a password to know
the enemies
in our camp
to send them back
with a regret
if they
won’t join
with us
there is a battle
sad to say
a sortie
in a war
a war of ages
that began
who knows when
well
who on this
side
knows
is heaven’s rebellion
happening now
in fact
have a third
of angels
fallen
only recently
one third
waging war
as if to win
goaded by their chief
no doubt
to believe it
or
to act that way
and
love could stop the war
could stop all wars
if we could
bring it
to the table
and we can
it’s both
strong
and risky
to present
while those across might
react
with repudiations
then
bring their weapons out
from
hiding places
over hills
nearby
but it’s also
the only way
the only
way
that sticks
the only way that leads
to water
and to food
to shelter
and to safety
a
cessation
of hostilities
that will allow
if not incite
the
saving measures
allowing
peace
whether or not
it passes understanding
a Mispah benediction
clasping
without weapons
on
or close
and better
without weapons
in the mind
the war is over
who has won
invisible God
has won
the one who will
not gloat
or exact
spine-breaking
reparations
but will direct
the world
to rebuild itself
with help
from the angels
who are angels
for love
does this
love
does all of this
I learn this late
we learn this late
but there is time
for some
and more
in time we have
and time
beyond
time
love without
conditions
since there is too much
time
on the other side
(once there)
these
so do our best
for now
let love
be love
and to impose
with hope
and without
strategy
(consider the war
above)
or expectation
love
the word
and then the word
amen
c l couch
photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash
reasoning
(a prayer)
O God
Oh
God
(invocating
supplicating)
how are you
in our lives
how do your angels
work in dialogue
between
two sets of wills
your will
so elastic
as to have us
mess it up through
discretion
or what seems perhaps
an accident
or random thing
from us
and yet your will
predominate
your cosmic will
and will for all your spirits
made
and always
from the beginning
ending
and beginning
and everything between
so how shall we have our days
our hours
in ourselves
not pawns
but active players
in some plan of yours
one plan
and all of us
somehow
as parts
yet what we do
must matter
from the inside
to the outside
even the outermost
and is it miracle
or an extraordinary
definition
of happenstance
or some other medium
in which
we move
and have our being
and our choices
matter
they are valued
they turn into
the ultimate reality
and for our judgment
into paradise
how does that work
what stretches
most
within your will
that becomes a point of doctrine
for our lives
a code
for our discretion
well
what we know
is what we know
that our choices
make a difference
in a universe
of shared presence
manifested
so you choose
so I choose
so we chose
not in a vacuum
but some substance
our of
everything that’s real
the real
that is material
divine
individual
and overarching
if not overlording
oh
Lord
our Lord
how majestic is
your name in all the Earth
maybe an odd affirmation
(time to time)
when you
have no name
being I am
we have names
we have bodies
we have spirits
we have choices
and all of it
has value
part of your way
that goes in every
direction
where solidity
and spirituality
have room
for a plan
we don’t know part of
but in whom we are
the stake
we decide
we could always
learn the rules
(they are in many sources
universally)
then go so far as
to obey
c l couch
Psalm 8:9
photo by Árpád Czapp on Unsplash
a little chappy-book of poems
Anyday Fog
Fog
Fog today
A Dickensian lesson
(get started
on Bleak House)
To know
That like the existence
And the movement of the fog
There is connection
Between all of us
Regardless of economy
Or privilege
Or barriers
Presumed
That as far as the single race goes on
Do not stand
Aloof
We are connected
That is the way of things
Do not forget
But relish in it
The reality
And all the possibilities
Together
Or stay apart
Behind our barriers
So-called
To let the fog move
Inimically
Exuding fear and guilt
As we forbid ourselves from
Seeing
(without eyes)
And acknowledging each other
The fog connection
Irony
For there it is
Well
Then let
The better lesson of
The real thing
To a greater thing
Take over
All our humanhood
That should lower unnecessary things
In the way
Then let in
The light
(more than light)
Too Easy
Blindness
Blindness chosen
Not the sense
But the lifestyle
Even
A cause
That in the dark
We shall strike
And have our way
Forgetting
(among other things)
The anthologized
“Dover Beach” that
First-year students
Are foisted
To read
With the “ignorant armies”
In the night
That clash
Who wins
Who loses
No one knows
Except that blows are struck
And there is wounding
And humanity destroyed
By degree
Those who are blind
For real
Know the sacrifice
And the ridiculousness
In selecting darkness as
The quality
For sight
And shall we choose
To be ignorant of each other
Shall we fight
From distances too great
To know much beyond
The switch
Or the button
We could draw near each other
Rather
Withholding our destroying
Part
To leave the great part
Of curiosity
And even peace
Let go
Learn who is my neighbor
On the planet
How might the Earth do better
If we re-trained ourselves
For nature
The greater challenge
To
Like military
Pull back the extremes
To repair
Then prepare
For what’s next
To know
Who is next door
Not to pry
Or lord
Or anything overlording
Or pervasive
To learn each other
As we are
Even the agendas
Learning how to speak
To listen more
And to understand
(lessons in language
might be
the first thing)
Allowing curiosity
To be positive regard
Respect
The better agenda
Knowing which virtues to use
To influence
And which to use to
Be changed by
As we grow
In and with
Those we have relegated to
The other
As an objective distinction
(no such thing)
To render targets
Rather
Than people
Simply put
Do not destroy the world
That’s rather stupid
But put down the guns
(the buttons and the switches)
Find food
And drink
And other fixing things
With which
To approach
Nourish
And give the world
What is the real
Fighting chance
Family Game Night
(we can do it)
No one wins
No one loses
Leave that to
Real games
And remember to embrace
Congratulate
Game-winners
While in the world
We do better
With nothing like a game
At stake
But how we live
Together
Make enough
The base for everyone
Then all we reach for
After that
In other words
Feed everyone
Because
We can do it
(Rosie
says
we can)
Provide everyone
With something safe
To drink
Shelter and the opportunity
For education
Of ourselves
And the world
The unpeated past
The glories in the present
(let science say
amen)
Maybe
Remembering
The God who made
Everything
Is waiting
Withholding Armageddon
‘Til there’s faith
In the outcome
For those who choose
To care
And believe
In the world
And the living
Selves
And neighbors
It’s simply
Really
Embrace good
Eschew evil
Learning the two
More how to build
Rather than
Destroy
It’s easy
Each can prosper
After all are well
In fact
Prosperity
Will grow
While all are fed
And drinked
Have shelter
And the means
For education
Will the problems end
No way
But we’ll have a go
With advancements and
With possibilities
Which is
The world growing
Which is how it was
And how
It should be
By us
Eden
With the walls let down
The best Eden we can make
Yes
For billions
Living well
And each other
Has a chance
To go from there
To growth
To gold
Whatever might seem good
Without extremes
Of anarchy or monarchy
Rule one by one
And by assembly
Which is how
The world’s growing
(at its best)
Anyway
Grow on
Absent Lion
(not that there’s climate change)
Well
Winter’s MidAtlantic
Ended
Seventy
In western parts
So where’s
The lion
Seems not
To have arrived
There’s always
Aslan
For always good
A sign
Of faithfulness
And power
In faithfulness
There are other lions
Some as
Metaphors
Others in fact
Don’t go
To meet upfront
The real ones
For their strength
Is in
Predation
It’s the qualities
And made-up stuff
That make
The lion
Useful
(leave the real ones
out there)
As we can make
The lamb
Render its own qualities
For our own good
And at least
In these parts
Earlier
In March
What’s Blue Is Blue
Maybe this is all
I can do
For now
Write against the blue
Until
The retinas
And other parts can’t take it
Then leave
The machine alone
And even
Wonder
How we do this
All
The time
Go see
The eye doctor
Maybe she
Will know
What is healthy
What is useful
What is
Disciplined
For health and
Productivity
To ease the headaches
And the
Stress
Maybe from blues
Though maybe
I need to play the blues
C L Couch
Photo by Vestfoldmuseene on Unsplash
Manic Monday
(and don’t panic)
God sang
The song into creation
The lion did as much
And our holy words
In works
Imply
We are created
We are that song
Or its interpretation
In darkness
And in light
And the bestowal
Of a garden
With the first object lesson
For the teachers
That the garden
Stands
For something we
No longer have
While we must work
In labor
And in labor
For
What we got
Each era is a lesson
We could say
And maybe they progress
The human ages
Which is why
We say
They’re ages
(we get older)
We grow
Some
We adapt
Physically
Some
Though not as much
As one might think
For as long as we’ve
Been here
And this might not be
So much by us
As by
The touch of God
God knowing
We’ll need adaptive parts
As we go on
(grow on)
What do I know
It’s Monday
And I’m feeling existential
With the blues on electric pages
Making less sense
To me
(than could it be
our music style)
Than paper
With its white
And off-white
Receiving of
Our pen strokes
Painting
With black ink
C L Couch
[note to me and now to us
so what’s this poem about?—it’s about thinking and writing, yes, really about both]
I am having trouble with the blue lights on computers. Or the part of the lights that are blue. Or maybe feeling blue. I think it’s both.
The result is that I’m even more recalcitrant in using this thing. This vital thing. I’ve had to use it for a while then rest my eyes. Rest my eyes upon the rest of the world.
So if I’m worse about responding than is typical (and typically it can be pretty bad), then I’m sorry. But as the emperor said quite uselessly, there it is.
--Christopher
Photo by Marija Zaric on Unsplash
Nous existons. Vraiment.
God Buy Ye
God be with you
‘Til we meet again
As God is with you
Now
Which is to say
With us
And a hope
Therefore
For company
As you go upon the Earth
And through the
Changeable
Sometimes trap-laden
Population
God with you
God with me
If I may say
And certainly with us
Mine
And yours
Better than Mizpah
Certainly
More so
When Moses met the king
With the stone heart
More like near the rock
In fact
Where water
Leaped to save us
Or like Galilee
Where thousands met
To hear
The saving word
God keep you
And us
Even through
Maybe a long time
‘Til
We meet again
C L Couch
God buy ye, a Medieval understanding of salvation (paying a condemnation’s ransom with the coin that was Christ’s life); God be with ye a wish for spiritual company and comfort for a friend; all becomes Goodbye
though ironically I say hello from Pittsburgh where I was brought through cold, some snow to arrive; I get another car here, since mine was totaled (no one hurt except some cars), which is technically the main thing; I get to visit with some family, which is the real thing
hoping your winter days (or summer to the south) are grand,
God be with ye,
Christopher
space ranger God
so many
science-fiction futures
read sad to me
yet
maybe I know
why
because they are nearly
always
God-less
the meaning not mentioned
much less
taking part
in new creations
and inventions
comforting
again
our flaws
but gladdened by
the progress
humans make
it might be hard
to craft
too difficult
in fact
since we must invent
our future
stake our hold on it
come disaster
or a clean and silver form
of paradise
and how to say
there’s God in this
that God
pushed us in the spacecraft
that brought the first
to a new world
we instead
must
try to own
and have such bid for ownership
tested
and tried
by what we find
or whom we find
there
toward a final tempering
of us
that accommodates the cosmos
for the differences
we find
to mesh with them
at last
who we are
perhaps we fear
the role
of God would spoil the story
(the real story
too)
and so we play out
only ourselves
on new
planetary stages
and all the things that fly
between
smallest things
(like mustard seeds)
or
parsec-sized things
God might bide
at the launching pad
or well behind
like farewelling parents
waving kerchiefs
allowing tears
for those who leave
we shall not see
again
though
in fact
God sees
and might see toward the end
of our expansion age
how we have done
and what we’ve done
to be here
there might be
judgment following
of our accounting
then decisions
regarding more dimensions
multi-universes
to encounter
encounter serving as
the theme
maybe the most important theme
in sci-fi
and for all the real findings
it inspires
c l couch
Spaceship Earth
photo by Ronald Yang on Unsplash
Once and Future
Camelot has fallen
The last knight rides
Away
Into the sunrise
Of the first day of the year
So Tennyson decided
Maybe based on information
Or more by
Insight
That had moved the poet
Through
Construction
And destruction
The rising
And the falling
Raised by music
Like cathedrals
Or said the poet’s peers
By the command of
Merlin
While depicting in
What must have seemed
Indomitable stone
All ascent and descent
In
Human ages
By
The wizard’s art
At its command
Now fallen also
The unearthly being
Sealed away
For now
And we are left
To ride away with Bedivere
Into our uncertain year
As
A matter of courses
When this hearing is done
And in our case
Unready for the courts
Ideals
By betrayals
Story-slain
As if by Mordred
Also
Guinevere
And Lancelot
All exposed
As our
Baser impulses toward
Ruination
Wrecking the foundation
Into rubble
That can
Support nothing like
The comely towers
Anymore
What kind of year
Is this
Where is the refuge
For the refugees
Shall Camelot be rebuilt
If only by words
In songs
Until we have the might
For right
To try again
With mortar in
Our stanzas
For now
On this first day
The sounds of riding
Harsh
Like our discourse
Now concluded
‘Til we open up
The pages of our lives
Again
While in a distant place
Already to be set
In camouflage by nature
The final
Burning
Broken stones of the last battle
Settle into
What had been
A part of Earth
More glorious
Somehow
By us
C L Couch
. . .
Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King,
Down that long water opening on the deep
Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go
From less to less and vanish into light.
And the new sun rose bringing the new year.
from “The Passing of Arthur,” concluding Idylls of the King by Arthur, Lord Tennyson
Photo by Jigar Panchal on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
having been incarnated
x
oh
God
we say
you’re born
you’ve slipped inside
the pacing
of the world
flesh cells
adapting
to our measure
to our growth
and our decay
three score and ten
how does it
feel
x
I guess you knew
what this was
and is the human part
surprised
by mortal beats
the skipping
of the heart
outside
the rhythm
as we say
of the spheres
x
and are you well
will you
catch cold
or get mumps
have influenza
as our children must
from time to time
it seems
x
and you
will endure
(you must)
though it won’t be
so comfortable
with chicken pox
x
and then
grown-up
to feel
all that we feel
and think inside the vacuum
the shell
of thoughts
inhabiting the skull
and not much further on
nothing like
the mindset
you must know
inside eternity
and Godhead
x
and there are feelings
in the chest
desire
for the nation
yes
and only
for your own
because you are
humanly
entitled
x
yet what shall you have
when your body
it turns out
is for a cause
even
perhaps part of a plan
to cheat mortality
like the stratagems
of Pharisees
or statues of
self-styled kings
or emperors
x
Rome and Judea
and there is Parthia
and Britain
way-off China
and there’s India
and there are first people
everywhere
who belong
where they have moved
and stopped
and finally
no place to move
with what they have
for moving
x
all the people
of the Earth
post-Alexander
and never having known
Alexandrian expansion
or Roman roads
connecting
a known world
x
yet
are you here
for these
everywhere
which means
you might be here for us
here and now
x
I suppose
the other two
of you
will out
while you alone
are limited
while you must live here
with only us
for easy company
and reaching out
like us
often alone
sometimes in groups
though only through the shell
as we must beseech
mortally
unto the Lord
with questions
asking of a will
we do not understand
yet we believe
is there
x
how frustrating to be human
welcome here
we wish you well
we really do
because should we encounter you
there are stories
about something special
from you
something even
we don’t know
rescuing
about you
even in the flesh
x
c l couch
x
x
photo by BoliviaInteligente on Unsplash
x
clcouch123 
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