over 40,000

(x = space)

x

x

over 40,000

x

who is left after

are

the broken-hearted

inside broken-bodied

those left who

never believe

in anything

anymore

x

those who have no buildings left

houses or offices

or warehouses

and so sleep inside

if supplied

canvas or nylon

maybe with a floor

maybe not

or in a wide and tall shelter

that might have been

something else

in days

that we do not believe in anymore

x

earth for ground

which for many

isn’t new at all

x

my city’s count

of people gone

razored rubbled stones too big

for anyone or a small group

to lift

even though a noise is heard

or sign or life is seen

or was it imagined

x

we must wait

for healthy people

big machines

waiting on either side

clichés belied

a fresh hell

too late

too little

though

we will get to each other

whatever

living status

notwithstanding

x

there is a border

do we care

tribes

as we knew tribes

who lived in places

x

without places

where

is home

x

it’s nowhere

there is nothing

not even peace

of a flat nothingness

there is so much

cracked rock

torn sheets of metal

splintered glass

and

split ground

x

metal, plastic, cloth

pieces to remove

maybe to inventory

but first

to look and hear

and touch and taste

and smell

for signs of life

x

if there are signs of recognition

(sounds official)

any part that was alive

a writhing shape

or something

monstrously creative

for flesh

and bone

and everything that

moved

in health

not designed

in making

x

it’s visceral

and horrible

to contemplate

x

and here they are

he

she

they

and us

then lifted up

and carried

to wherever

whatever

might be left of us

to carry

and to set down

by the victims

walking

driving

bearing

with newcomers

myriad

with everything inside

that should be inside

shelters

and bodies for shelters

x

time for work

and for embraces

and feeding pets

that also

have been found

x

we must count

though all

for help

if horribly

piecemeal

whole

in-part

surprises

when we find

each other

as we find

each other

x

miracles

or awful

(without awe)

revelation

x

two nations

and all families

in shock

material and flesh

therein

all rived apart

enormous pieces

and so small

like mortal

or like venal

sin

x

we are tired

we are so tired

marrow-tired

yet we lift

like eyes to hills

with all the senses

sensing

and our muscles

weeping

like our faces

and our souls

x

hoping

fearing

to find anything

for what we’ve found

and know

so far

x

the definition

of a living hell

new definitions

ghastly or ghostly

(grim humor

or humors

medieval inquest drawn out)

for the victims

and the victims

x

nature and people

where is evil

maybe nowhere

maybe do not care

but as we can

and for the good

with what we have

get over there

x

c l couch

x

x

photo by xander ashwell on unsplash

x

On the First Day

(x = space)

x

x

On the First Day

x

Ash Wednesday

Let’s have ash

Upon our foreheads

Crosses that will smudge

And that’s all right

Throughout

The day into

The evening

For the season

x

We say it’s for remembrance

Of death

And our mortality

But our foreheads are warm

There’s temperature beneath

And all the little crosses

Bearing small,

Smudged,

And living

Testimony

Everywhere

x

Not bad for evangelism

Contraindicated for a show

Rather a story of

Black, loving humility

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Taylor Flowe on Unsplash

x

Drastic Season

(x = space)

x

x

Drastic Season

x

Soon it will be Lent

Time to think

Of Jesus

For all the times

Out scatter-gun approach

(sheesh)

Hopes to hit the mark

x

Forty days

With time off

For Sundays

For Communion

For the Catholics,

A churchly kindness

x

Otherwise,

We count

And do not count

For who says

Well, today is Lent 19

When we have it

In a book

If we must know

x

No, the season moves

Slowly

(it’s even in the name)

And we wish

For Easter treats

Especially because

We might give up something

For these days

x

It is tradition

And some choose

Something that it’s

Helpful

(healthy)

To avoid for a time

If not forever

x

Something small

Like caffeine

Something bigger

Like adultery

Or other

Eldritch bond

The priest might say

If saying

That is mortal

Meaning uneternal

For our lives

x

My, that would be a season

Of such change

To right a wrong

And who decides

Not priest

Or even angel on the shoulder

But the motivation

Of one’s own

In time

x

And such a season

Angels would approve

Though the loss

Of what sin brings

Forever

Shall seem to hurt that way

For the while

While things change

For forty days

(now a dreadful count)

And fifty

And beyond

x

As the healthy sun

Lights from far

The mortal planet

That in renewal

Might have something better

In its molecules

And the un-atomed spirits

After judgment

Knowing joy

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by James Coleman on Unsplash

x

Common Passion

(x = space)

x

x

Common Passion

(Lent)

x

O God, our help

Help me

Christ will be entering

Jerusalem soon

That’s too much for me

I wouldn’t go

I don’t like crowds

And as for all the blood

That follows

There was a crowd for that

As well

I’m not sure

Where I fit in

In the Passion story

To hear it, I suppose

Find my way to talk about it

Wish so much of it

Had not happened,

Starting with the first

Beating

x

Who are you?

What is your authority?

What is truth?

Skeptic questions

Without the thorns,

They could be honest

Without the torture

One might really want

To know

x

We can ask

Without all that

It’s been done for us

As story

As clean pages in a book

That might get stained

With water

Or with coffee

Accidents happen

So does providence

A week away

We’ll find out how it goes

I’ll take the quieter vantage point,

Thank you

After the crowds have gone

Maybe I’ll get a glimpse

Of the body

As it’s taken

Or the bodies of the thieves

Taken to paupers’ graves

Most likely,

Since there were no placards

On their crosses

Or on mine

Or maybe yours

Who were they?

Who am I?

Who are we?

We die without accord

Because no one knows

Our faces

Or our places

We die in a city at

The center of the Earth

Too much is happening there

Move on

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by 𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅 𝘙𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 on Unsplash

x

Slow Season

(x = spaces)

x

x

Slow Season

x

1

Lord,

It is Lent

Moving slowly as it should

Forty days or so

In a couple weeks, Palm Sunday

Triumph and then the Triduum

Days of friendship

And of torture

For our Lord

For you

Ignominy

Then death

Then in the earth

Like a seed that has no merit

As no growth is expected,

Behind a stone

In fact

Lent closes over

That way

While we wait

Not knowing

We should wait for anything

x

2

Half the world is at war

My God,

What do we do to each other?

What grace is kept

Withheld

Like a body in a tomb

We’d try not to open

For fear of the revenant

We’d find inside?

Forgive us, anyway

Save us, anyway

By something so, so precious

That in the world we cannot escape

That finds us

Even though we say

Get away,

I want no part of you

Before the rooster crows

x

3

And what is grace

But something sliced

Through everything

That it is as good

As if

Dispensed only through itself

No keepers on Earth

Not the church

(don’t think it)

Or the world

(won’t think it)

God’s surprise

Surprised by peace

And then delight

Don’t think it comes in

Any other way

It is wild

If there is timing,

It only knows its own

It comes to save

Better than a plan

Or pre-requirements met

Don’t ask except

To ask of it

That is all right

It can act as if it hears

The one releases

It can hear

And for our malaprops

And misinformed

Hears us, anyway

x

coda

My people cry

I must respond

They ask badly

If at all

I want to hear them, anyway

I will respond

x

Something like it

Says the Lord

In songs

And other prophecies

And the amazing grace

Of love

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Christina van der Merwe on Unsplash

x

Wintry Weekend

(x = space)

x

x

Wintry Weekend

(in the forecast)

x

God

Help us

On a Lenten Friday

Fish Friday, maybe

Yum

Or only the side dishes

To be abstemious

For the season

x

Seriously,

It is a somber time

I wish it could be

A quiet time

With normal noise

Children play

Dogs bark

Tires pressing normally

Go by

On the street

x

You know,

It’s the grownups

Who need help

Who need to understand

The opportunity

The chance to know God better

In the season

x

Why forty days?

I think largely because

Of our

Jewish parents,

If I may say parents

And the time of forty years

Spent in a wilderness

Moving toward

A promised land

Regrettably,

To conquer

x

I think Jesus

If he were

A good, Jewish man

Would know the

Number forty

Use it to count the days

In his own

Wilderness

Of silence and temptation

Before the promise

Of a ministry

Begins

x

And we wayward

Children

(grownups)

Maybe count forty, too

To have a season

Many days

To get to know you better

And all your children

Generations

Now

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Jacob Felix on Unsplash

x

Impositions

(x = space)

x

x

Impositions

x

The palms are burned

From last year

And ashes are prepared

To go on foreheads

All day long

As Lent begins with ashes

As reminders of mortality

x

We might not

Understand mortality

Since we want to live forever

x

Which might be the impulse of

Creation

To want and think the days

Will never end

As we live

Tomorrow into tomorrow

Without concern

Until concerns are imposed

x

Wondering what do we know

Of immortality

Except that we think about it

A great deal

When not ignoring

Thoughtless into tomorrow

x

The assurance of faith

Stories of coming back

Visitations

Apparitions

Scant stories

And the few that are detailed

x

Regarding intimations

Life catches up with impulse

What happens

We’ll know

We’ll know what we know

Assurance of faith

Or amazing-grace

Surprise

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by William Krause on Unsplash

Burnt bushes and trees in Sardinia, Italy.

Sardinia, Italy

x

Two Days before Lent

(x = space)

x

x

Two Days before Lent

x

There are too many

Things to pray for:

Ukraine, COVID, the

Other violence

In the world

At home

In the heart

x

As it happens,

There is a season

Starting Wednesday

A season really good

For prayer

And such

Lean living for a while,

As we can manage,

Extra services perhaps

Of kinds

x

A time whose name

Means slow and full

And other things

That say

Slow down, remember me

My teaching

From the start

As if to say

I meant creation from the start

To teach

To have us read the surfaces

As teaching and as

Starting points

From which to dig, to dive

Or from which

To fly

x

As if to say

We have this time now,

You and I,

In which to walk as if

There were a garden

In which to talk about

All things

Anything

You like

Or don’t like

But need to share with me

Because I’m wise

And all love

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Susanne Schwarz on Unsplash

x

Second Book of Genesis

(x = space)

x

x

Second Book of Genesis

x

God kept saying

That it’s good

Creation’s good

Each day of it

x

To be there

Hear the names

Have God speak into our minds

In pre-fall grace

With understanding

There is delight

And faith

In all this

Without they’re being named

Only the day and night

All the animals

Us

And then a time of rest

x

If we had been there

If we could have touched their hands

And drawn them back

From the tree

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

x