First Story

(x = space)

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First Story

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The Bible is a book

Stories, sometimes

Told in poetry

The thinking of a people

And, certainly, their feelings

Faith based on

Invisibility

Not to be fanciful

But there’s a lack of evidence

That is the design

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A collection of books,

We say

Sixty-six or seventy-two

There are reasons

For the difference, we’re told

But some of us

Are wondering if

Judith was left out

By the Protestants

Because she is so heroic

While also

Scolding

Cowering men

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But take our pick, it’s still

An impressive collection

There is truth in it

In the one story, overall

Parts of the world

That point to it

Pages on leaves,

Waves telling it aloud

And other texts

And other storytellers

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It’s a book of faith

Behind that, it’s a book of love

That was the first purpose

The pleasure in the making,

We can only guess

The peace,

We’re told, is passing understanding,

Too

But maybe we can take

A guess at love

We can think it

We can think it through

We can feel it

We can feel it through

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The story is compelling

As it is pervasive

We can enjoy it

(try the creating)

We can be persuaded

We can be grossed out from

Time to time

We can be changed

We can be saved

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C L Couch

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Photo by Aleksei Ieshkin on Unsplash

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A Friday in October of 1492

(x = space)

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A Friday in October of 1492

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He got no farther west

Than Panama,

Nine days’ journey to another ocean

And an open way (it was

presumed)

To China—

This country but a way station

To the eastern lands

Of Asia,

A new sailing away

Needs driving to exist

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But the nine days would have

Been spent over land

(for now),

And he wanted ships

To make the journey

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So he demurred

And then refused,

Returning to the boats

He knew well,

Even if he did not understand

The world he had found

For Europe to exploit

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The Taino people killed,

An exchange of diseases

Gold taken

And new spices

God is offered

By the sword

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All our legacies

Over here

What is there to say

But that this is us,

All of us,

On land and over water,

Then and now

West of east

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C L Couch

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Columbus, the Lost Voyage

based on the work of Martin Dugard

narrated by Edward Hermann

(a ritual for watching

and for hearing)

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Photo by The New York Public Library on Unsplash

Manhattan, New York, NY, USA

Theoline, Pier 11 or 12, East River, Manhattan. 1936

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How We May Live

(x = space)

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How We May Live

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It’s all right

We don’t have to agree

To have a family

Or a nation

The world is filled with

Variance of thought,

And opinions bleed

And stay still

Like colors

And affiliations

Of the rainbow

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Democratic theory says

That you and I

May argue toward no

Solution or a change

Today or ever

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And democratic practice is

Even better,

For you and I may feed the hungry

And encourage those

In all kinds of trouble, all

The same

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We both and together

May fill bags

With sand along

The growling, killing river

As we (after washing) may

Dispense soup

To the rescued

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This is how to live

With variation

And to live with variation

Active in

Needs that are subsuming—those

Of the hungry or the flooded or,

After fire, the singed

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Arguing the other situations

When we may breathe

Again with clarity

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Happy days

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C L Couch

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Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Cairns, Australia

Olive oil on water. “Immiscible 1”. The photo is called immiscible because oil and water don’t mix. The background colours come from a painting behind which is titled “Joy” and is itself bubble shapes like balloons of cheerful colours, where I have tried to express the emotion of joy in a painting, much like Mark Rothko.

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Who Knows How to Live

(x = space)

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Who Knows How to Live

(not a question)

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It’s evening now,

An old movie is on TV

If there were a cat

As there has been,

She would be sleeping

Until she wakes, eats

Something, demands

Face-rubbing, then

Goes to sleep again

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C L Couch

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Photo by MILKOVÍ on Unsplash

Los Gatos Theatre, Los Gatos, United States

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For Those of Us Not Good at Praying

(x = space)

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For Those of Us Not Good at Praying

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Good God,

Please grant us

Clemency,

A fancy word

In church or court

For mercy

But don’t be fancy with us,

We need help, that’s all

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Simply and, well,

In miracles

There are hungry people

Many sick with disease

There is disease of mind

As well

And those who want

Their way and want

The rest of us as well

And there is evil in that,

The kind you say

In your book

Is under the sun,

Meaning every day

And most likely every hour

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So we must pray for food

(safe water)

And for freedom

A cure when your nature

Hurts us, a cure when

Others try to bring us down

In the other way

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We might be

At traffic lights, just now

Sitting in back seats of cars

With ear-pods in

Our ears

Or other things

Distracting

Sorry, we get around to this

Too late at times

Well, most of the time

(most of us)

We are not saints

Whoever they might be

We are only

People in need

Amen,

We should say amen

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C L Couch

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Photo by Kristy Kravchenko on Unsplash

Minneapolis, United States

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Storied Creatures

(x = space)

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Storied Creatures

(story people)

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Elves could come

At night

And cobble me some

Shoes;

Maybe a storied dwarf could spin

Some straw (maybe

the recyclables)

Into gold–

And since I know the name,

We’d keep

A healthy distance

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The kraken could rage at

All the red tide

In the bay;

A dragon could riddle me

For treasure

(I could offer books

in which these

serpents with wings and other vanities

appear to

good effect)

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A dryad could point out

Poison ivy

While I walk, while

A sibling naiad

Translate calls from frogs at ponds

For me, because

I’d rather be an ally than

A foe

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I’d like to know the spirits

From the stories

Even though there’s eldritch strength

With talent, which I

Could never touch

Or could be

Burned by

Since these creatures are magic

And their skills,

While we are mortal and

With what we do

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But, oh, the draw of living out

Some lifetimes

As these supernal creatures

Are supposed to live

(and if so,

then they must live

even if in tragedy of feeling

or of fate)

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But let’s say in the meantime

We tell all the stories

Though

Their foundation be–

Maybe the key to knowing them be–

Separation

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C L Couch

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Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

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2021

(x = space)

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2021

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Say the new year

With me

We’ll be allowed to have

More expectations

By then

Except for the things that got

In the way

Of righteous living

All the ploys

In my land

In Washington

(no stimulus until I get my way;

hand him the derivative

fiddle while

Rome burns)

The groups that have socked

Billions

While those who live

Day by day struggle

To maintain

xxxxx Is this the saying that

xxxxx War is good

xxxxx For the economy?

There will be a

Reckoning,

Though we’ve got better

Living to do now

Maybe in November,

Starting

Maybe next year

For those still here

And breathing well, at last

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C L Couch

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Photo by Erwan Hesry on Unsplash

Perros-Guirec, France

National Day Fireworks

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Night Is Gracious

(x = space)

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Night Is Gracious

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I can’t think of what

I deserve

Because I deserve nothing

Too well I understand

(with Protestants)

The wages of sin,

Not

Because I’m criminal but

Because I’m sinful,

Maybe in the way

Of all who’ve sinned and so

Deserve extinction

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But sinful state and actions

Might be

A prelude unto grace—and so

Some say there must

Be evil on the way,

And I wonder

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They don’t really go by halves,

And shadows are not evil

Evil isn’t natural

Though insistent

And when we think

The evil life is

Shadow life—they don’t combine,

Not really

Decide what you will

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Let evil sublimate for now

But shadows can delight

At night

Or teaching about night

In day

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In daylight we’ll have Parousia,

I suppose

Thought at night perhaps

We’ll celebrate,

Then rest

The rest we should have had

In Eden,

Now a rest

For all to merge

To bathe of goodness,

Leaving all distinct

Forever

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Each one a player and a part

(not the player without

an upstart part,

as Jaques laments

an irony of stasis)

In everything revealed

By light, by shade

All shades of existence

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Under the sun

(evil abrogated)

While always under stars

Belonging to night,

Where we also

Always

All belong

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C L Couch

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Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

Wisconsin State Fair Park Exposition Center, West Allis, United States

Taken from the Sky Lift at the WI State Fair, August 2017

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Waves

(x = space)

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Waves

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What do I want

To say to you

That it’s a lovely day

In an eccentric way

Everything is played down

The takeover of fall

Changing tones on trees

And on the ground

Everything played down

Under a graying sky

With brighter sunlight

Coming through

From time to time

As if the wind

(I see it on the leaves)

Were pushing the clouds out

Or the sunlight in

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C L Couch

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Photo by Fineas Anton on Unsplash

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