a place to talk so talk I'll talk we'll talk





Inside land

Rock entrance

No way out behind

No desire to leave


Desert mothers

And fathers


In the middle of the world

Excavating wisdom


Penitents arrive


For what’s learned



Earth and rock and light

Are home

And everything

Is God


C L Couch


Jazz Mass

Jazz Mass


Welcome to this house

Of Monk


And many more



Billie Holiday

Muddy Waters

Buddy Rich who sticks for



Sacred syncopated

Earth and all stars

Their music turns

A service

Into lifetime crazy, holy



C L Couch



“Earth and all stars,” the first words of a hymn by Herbert Brokering composed for Saint Olaf College, Minnesota, first published in 1968


Valentine’s (prose-poem)

Valentine’s is Tuesday.  A day whose origin is in sacrifice and martyrdom.  In the pesky chapter of Ephesians, it’s how the role of husbands in marriage is described.  Like the role of Jesus to the church, his bride and for whom he gave his life.  The saint exchanged messages of love from his prison cell with his followers outside.  (Who knows but someone might have been in jail with him.)  Red is not for romance but for the color of the final cause.  Enjoy the greeting cards—I will—and chocolate.  And flowers for an augur of spring in the north.  But there are higher things to think of, among them how we love this day.  And to the next.

C L Couch

Old White Men Please Stop Running Things

Old White Men Please Stop Running Things


You’ve had your chance

And this is what you’ve got

While holding others from their turn


Earth is a hurting place, and

Can it get much worse?

Of course, it can


Which is why it’s time past time

To turn over what

Was never only yours


C L Couch





There is nothing to say

That hasn’t been said before

But if I feel something new,

I’ll try

With what I have

To say what to the world

Is the same old thing


C L Couch

Psalms 52 and 53

Psalm 52

song of passion


Some things are not enough even

From an impoverished place,

Contemplating gifts.


O God,

Where is your own longing?

And where might mine match yours?



Psalm 53

song of compassion



Why should you listen to me, anyway

But I’ll keep talking, just the same

Someone is missing

And others are searching

It’s far away

I don’t know anyone there


But there are hearts

And life that always matters

So I’ll ask

Sinner before the altar


Please help those in motion

Watch around (above, under) the rescue

Help us in our better work


Bless those in need of rescue


Bless the rescued

And the rescuer



C L Couch


New Year

New Year


The rooster

Takes a turn

(the monkey

Is my year)

Oriental means eastern

But in China it is meridian

The center

For people and the life


We take these years

In twelve,

Which is significant for

Occidentals, too

Maybe we should learn to count

Together, dismiss compass



Respecting the zenith

Of each degree

Each one


C L Couch


Happy Gregorian new year.  Happy lunar new year.

Still writing from a place of pain that tends to overwhelm.  I’ll be rethinking that relationship between art and suffering, sometime.

Meanwhile I’m trying.





A blue light in the sky

Maybe green

Depends upon perspective

Looking out along the silver sea

Of an ancient world

The truth is this:

Matter exists

So does the abstract

Earth and harmony

Air and loyalty

Water and benevolence

All things come together at the last

For judgment and better

Placement in the heavens

Meantime we breathe

We move

We love the seasons

I fall and maybe you are there

To pick me up


The risk, the chance, the danger

In saying, today we live


We step, we reach

We are aware

Living is chosen for the day

Our enemies might scoff

We in turn scorn

But better worlds than these await

And we have only time until

True glory is manifest

And a paradise of grace and will travels

Arriving in our atoms,

Saving electrons, all energy



This is what we have

Who we are is how we choose

Salvation comes from love

And the faith

That persists

In you, in me, in all


C L Couch


(in my journal, after drafting for what’s above)

There.  Message for the day.  Persist.  Endure.  Celebrate a little.  Find small pleasures.  Look forward.  Move now.

My headache is bad.  The coffee helps.


Brain Burn

Brain Burn


Or the Quixote syndrome

(unofficial, made it up)

Idealism cannot last

But in my mind, it’s cauterized


After the fires, it’s clear

The windmill’s won

I ride away on my pink horse

Thankful Sancho Panza

Hadn’t seen

Or heard or felt or touched or savored


Any of this,

Flame or ash


C L Couch


Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑