I talk you talk we'll talk



Home Keys

Home Keys


I know who I am

Do you?

It’s not a challenge



Maybe it’s a way to say

That if we talk

And as we listen,

It will go better if

If you have some understanding

Who you are

Me, too


C L Couch


At 5 a.m., How and Why

At 5 a.m., How and Why



You are there

And I am here

The distance between us need

Be no more than a filament

The breadth of a capillary

A pulse between two nuclei

Or the space can be

The width of a world


That has more to do with me

Since no qualifying of divine will stands

Beyond the condition you placed upon yourself

For a savior


One who redeems as God and a person

Flesh molded with spirit

Majesty in ordinary undertaking

To teach, to heal, to live, to die in innocence

And then all will returns

In death defeated


It is a Christian way to know things

It might not be yours


But to God

I wonder how you stayed the angel

Who took the knife from Abram’s hand

But would keep it in the Roman plan

To hack a cross together

Display one who dies because

A decision was made

In Sanhedrin and handwashing

Not for justice but for status quo become murderous


Abraham was flawed, so was Noah

So was Sarah, so was Isaac, so was Miriam

Yet you made them whole

As all were knit together

Except your child

Who was you and yet was not excused from execution

Out of innocence


How do you mitigate your will

And maybe you never do

You allow yourself to bleed

Blood and water, liquids running life


You could have changed it all, and you didn’t

Change a thing

I am amazed and horrified

And would never lift my eyes again


You promise joy and peace

And whoever have I been to argue with you

I must be content


Allow for Easter

For greater pain unknown anywhere on Earth,

Which splits the universe

And renders understanding into splinters

Of crystalline grace

‘Til grace is all that’s left

With which you save


With which you drag us into heaven

From drowning in deep waters

Filled with tendrils from wary sources

Always ready, in fact plotting

To bring us down

Away from light

From one day into eternity


I don’t get it

I don’t have to

I am here

You are there

And here

Closer in than I shall ever be

My God


C L Couch



Photo by Dane Deaner on Unsplash






My mother came home from the hospital today,

and I can’t handle the numbness from

exhaustion.  She has the disease, and it’s going

to kill her, but I can’t help but wonder (bad

son) about my role in this.  I try to cause three

meals a day to happen and earn enough outside

to pay some bills.  My father has proved useless.

I guess no one is surprised, though every now

and then I hope.


C L Couch



Robert Gramner

Just a lost key by a popular running trail.



Ode to Small Things

Ode to Small Things


The toast has jumped

Thank you, toast and toaster

Those who made you


Those who made you


Let’s have an ode to

Every small thing that’s good


Lids that unscrew

Peanut butter

George Washington Carver’s inventions,

The ones that were never made


You and me

And each one of us,

Small upon the planet

Large in worth

And skill

And gratitude

For being made

And someone of us who

Might fix everything


C L Couch


By Halves

By Halves


When we are revealed

In diaspora

When we are outcast

Of Earth


When all we have is gone

Used up to stay alive


When there is nothing more than

Scant hope, threadbare-blown


Then we might turn to each other

In remembrance

Of promises we never


Wishing we could know each

Other now


C L Couch




File:Wstega macha.png – Wikimedia Commons


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