Examining “Examining My”

Regarding the poem “Examining My”: The real crux of the poem is that everything is on loan. If one understands and internalises this, one is not in despair when things break, we lose them, or they leave us in one or another way. It’s a poem meant to comfort.

You can say ‘my’ all you want in your everyday speech. But it’s not a concept that should dominate one’s priorities. The possessive simply leads to sadness and disruption.

I’m sure that wise of you agree. Defining yourself as a’one-off, singularity is possibly better, for that is what you are; a sun with a little planetary system going round you. Now that I think of it, if the sun could think, I don’t think it would call the planetary system (which surely came out of it) “Mine”. (see Examining My) 7.4.2020

Examining ‘My’

We use ‘my’ without a thought. My goodness! Oh my! We use it affectionately, sympathetically; my dear boy; my poor baby! Also belonging to or associated with the speaker: my name is Arlene; my friend.
And yet, and yet…my is possessive.

Examining ‘My’

My, means belonging to…
Does anything belong to you?
I don’t think so.
My face, body, cat or house.
Worse,
My child, my wife and coin possessed?
Preposterous and pointless.
Mine to own?
Fallacious and illusion;
All’s a loan.
Each object, person, situation
Not the tiniest bit mine.

It is better that you say:
“I go, you go, he goes, she goes”.
Goodness knows, each object goes:
Nothing’s mine and nothing’s yours;
Each thing seen, touched, held; a guise..

The range of verbs you choose to use
Should be reviewed to understand reality.
Everyone and everything but temporary.

Try to take a day or two
Getting used to finding out what, how and who
Relates to you.
Rotation, alternation, staying in our lives a day
But never staying always.

Examining ‘My’ 6.20.2020 Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Two Looks At The First Reality

Two Looks At The First Reality
(or What or Who creates it all)

Depending on one’s leanings,
And assuming one is interested,
I, myself am all-enthralled
By themes self-vested in.

One view is that Reality, the Primary
Is really One, without a sun – just one Entirety.
The second is the same Supreme
With arms, legs, body, plus an aim;
One which we address by name.
Who often spotlights sin and blame
But calls on us to love our neighbour –
Finely tuned through daily labor.

I find I prefer the former:
One which says that causes good in motive, act
Result in good-ness as a fact;
And causes whose intents are wrong
Though mind is rational and sharp
Will end in ends that taint and warp.

Each theory is complementary.
Depending on how you are born
(with preferences pre-natally ‘learned’)
You can arrive one early morn
At one with It-The-Energy,
Free from all impurity.

These little stanzas simplify
A lifelong try
At transformation.
Drawing on our screwed-up best
At wrestling with the gifts and mess
We’re born to guest.

Two Looks At The First Reality 6.7.2020 Circling Round Reality; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

Things Come & Go

Things Come & Go

Things come and go:
Lightening bright and sudden
Over in a nano-second.
Dew, its job completed,
Lost in air, evaporated.

Forms diverse;
A shared non-substance: emptiness.
A single thing the ring of truth is that we are illusory.
Still paradoxically,
But for a shape, look, name
We are the permanently same inside;
The rest a mutable ephemeral,
And seldom in the know
That things come and they go
As quickly as they do.
Things Come & Go 6.4.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin

She Let A Moth Drown In The Lake

She Let A Moth Drown In the Lake

She let a moth drown in the lake,
Waves taking stackars* little thing
Further than her oar could reach.
Standing on beach, cupped eye,
Squinting, trying…
Moth was gone.
Death had won.

Just so you know I do not lie,
That ‘she’ was I.
I am the wimp who hesitated.
Fear of depth, of cold, of wet.
Excuses inexcusable.

Death of moth, still flapping moth
Is just as undeserving as our own demise.
Pedestrian, prosaic, commonplace,
Disgusting,
Yet compulsively discussable.

All living things delight in life-ness.
While they move and throb the slightest,
They delight.
Who takes a life by standing by
Will also die.
It is essential, is it not, to cry,
Identify with kin?
Kin hereby meaning ‘life within’.

Left with remorse and shame
She self-condemns,
She takes the blame.
She hopes some force
That knows the individuality of moth
Shows sympathy in rebirth
In some future form that has a breath.

So be it, Om, Amen to Earth!

She Let A Moth Drown In the Lake 6.14.2020 Birth, Death & In Between II;Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Nature II;Pure Nakedness;Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover, Corwin

*stackars; Swedish; ‘poor thing’

Mourning Patricia’s Mom

Mourning Patricia’s Mom

Patricia’s mom, gone. Ninety-one.
How to write a requiem:
Remembrance in honor…and an honor
For this writer.

Reaching ninety-one, then gone.
I didn’t know her,
But know her daughter
And I wish to honor all I saw.

One learns a lot from observation.
More aware of what one’s got
When day comes and there’s not a dot
Of earthly earnings, birthday’s energies run out.

In the meantime, one’s learned
Love’s devotion is the winner
Where there is no sinner
But an ocean of reward:
Award: a honeycomb of golden good.

So in meekness I pay homage to:
The daughter
And the mother
And all others who, with gestures of unfeigned support,
Find words of thoughtfulness and comfort.

Dear Patricia,
Know that I impart,
The dearest feelings in my heart,
Certain that you’ll pass them on
With love and deep affection.
Without selfishness but blessedness,
A messenger to all surrounding.
Mourning mom with love abounding,
Mourning Patricias’s Mom 6.29.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

A Thought To The Writer

A Thought To The Writer

I’ve decided – no concluded
That there is no finished product –
That the motto is revision,
Which takes courage and reflection;

Perspective, understanding that
It’s destiny that leads,
Needs continually changing,
As are viewpoints –
Frame of reference
Ever you.

When you’re reading what you’ve written
(I say this from observation)
You’ve come back a different person.
You discover when reviewing,
What was smitten needs renewing:
Shakespeare tearing up the script,
To Romeo and Juliet
Because he thought the first was sh_t.
No double suicide;
No place where anyone has died.

Yes, there is no finished product;
Not in literature or life.
We inspect, reflect, reject
And we rewrite.

A ThoughtTo The writer 6.29.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Ducks Came Onto The Grass Today

Ducks Came Onto The Grass Today

It is divine. A day in June,
A paradise.
As here we sit and chat a bit
‘Bout that and this, this and that.

Paper plates of summer food.
Some tête á tête:
The world seems good.
Unparalleled.
Who could want more,
The summer air our succour.

Our new clipped lawn
Down to a our boathouse
Housing table, chair
For guests who come there.
Little rowing boat with motor
All prepared to spawn small trips
For tiny ships
Onto the relatively little waters.

Speaking of our lakefront syrup,
Ducks came up onto the grass.
They hadn’t asked,
They visited, so used to bread
Were they.. Then suddenly,
Five more waded ashore,
Ready for a bready
exploration.

Eight pm, sun still high,
Ducks swum away, good TV waiting
Sauntering, we left our haven
For the secondary heaven
Of our home some steps above.
A sort of, kind of
Paradis-ical true love.
What a day!

Ducks Came Onto The Grass Today 6.25.2020 Circling Round Nature II; Circling Round Experience;

The Benefits Of…Having Been, Becoming, Being

This started personally, turned philosophical, then existential (or vice versa) but ended with the current pandemic!

The Benefits Of…Having Been, Becoming, Being
Once you have been comatose,
Been handicapped, come home and started life.
There is no pre-supposing.
It’s a door.
You pay attention so much more.
You notice other’s posture,
Belly, maturation, stature.
On yourself and on the other –
And say nothing.
Judgement gone
It’s but to carry on.
All mankind is afflicted.

You are functions and non-functions:
Need to buy a button-hole-der, buttoner (they do exist!)
Set in motion one more ‘trick’ or sleight of hand;
Leave the left, to write with right
Hold the knife without self-wound.
When standing up to feel heel first,
Be wary when foot’s bare, ground’s wet.

Yet, what you notice even more’s, the gifted
And the giving, all the love around,
The boundless care
When your own hair is falling.
People are so kind,
So hard defined.

As for every passing day.
Creative in its way,
With pandemonium’s pandemic,
You now frolic in the kitchen,
Train and try new, fewer gimmicks,
Mimicry from TV inspiration one’s own new found brick.*

Oh, the things you learn from having been.
Most of all, that you remain.

*British informal, dated a generous, helpful, and reliable person: ‘You are really a brick,’ Gloria said.

The Benefits Of… Having Been, Becoming, Being 6.25.2020 Birth, death & In Between III; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin

How To Tackle Loneliness

Motivated first by the thought of Co-vid people (stuck down or not) living in small apartments, forced by necessity to be alone and perhaps going bonkers. Then, of course, I knew I was speaking to any- everyone – period.

How To Tackle Loneliness

Tackle: such a funny word,
A lovely word, an active word.
Loneliness: a sad, inactive, ‘only’ word
Which smells of isolation,
Friendlessness, abandonment, rejection.
Unalloyed projection
Of a mind not seeing rightly.

All it needs is rectifying;
Taking thoughts from out the air
Or in the head where thoughts are spread.
Rejecting systematically the whirling round,
And casting out their ugly sound;
Lifting hand or leg or ‘bum’
To something new albeit ‘dumb’.
It does not matter what you do.
It’s just to shift the thought somehow;
Shake the body, use the eye, eyebrow;
Limbs too are there to help you stay
New focussed, endlessly creative.

You’re not alone when you’re alone.
Make your thoughts a telephone.
Ideas are constant.
Change the coin
With which to launch the motivation –
And the whole becomes a boon
To get your ‘happy’ hormones working.
Happiness is always lurking –
There to make you comfortable.

Loneliness, the thief of solace,
A grief giver, full of malice
Leaves when you create in mind,
Find and form and shape some kind
Of Anything.

Use your senses – all of them:
Eyes, nose, ears, tongue, touch: each limb.
You’ve got a toolbox built within.
You have and are your best companion.
There! A sound and practical solution
Lies at hand.
How To Tackle Loneliness 6.22.2020 The Processes:Creative,Thinking, Meditative; Definitely Didactic II;Arlene Nover Corwin

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