Unmotivated Tears

           Unmotivated Tears

 I used to criticize

The eyes

Of those I knew

Who, at

Drops of a hat

Shed tears of ardor: God-knows-what.

 

Ascribing it

To vitamins and lack thereof,

Past, present and/or too much ‘love’.

Too something/something out of balance;

Nothing but a prevalence

Of yin or yang

Ganging up

On both those ducts.

 

Uncaring and unfeelingly – I used to be.

Now, at eighty-three it’s me.

I may need hormone therapy.

Or is it age sagacity –

Unmotivated tears

Based on a grasp of life’s chimere

That takes in all –

An all which makes one engineered

By tears

One must defer to.

Unmotivated Tears 4.24.2018 I Is Always You Is We; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Aging; Arlene Corwin

 

 

Thinking In The Sun

           Thinking In The Sun

Preoccupied with origins and ends,

Our real-life friends –

One knows that what is left is means: the present tense –

Past gone, what lies ahead not yet in sight’s attendance. 

The rest belongs to speculation.

Reasoning has limits.

Also left: the intellect and character,

Not neglecting chance or grace;

Who gets what, does what, makes choices that

Put two and two together to get four – or not. 

Sitting here out in the sun

What better theme to think upon,

The senses dong what they do,

Interpreted by you-know-who:

Me, you.

 The eye sees change [wind blowing grass].

The ear hears wind [that’s blowing grass].

The arm feels sun [that’s growing grass].

The brain sees all as change.

 Where is the toot, toot of an absolute?

One would recruit an absolute

To make things stable

If one could/were only able.

 So one sits awaiting, cogitating,

Meditating, celebrating one’s existence,

Hoping, praying it’s not nonsense

In the end,

As its end,

At the end.

Thinking In The Sun 4.22.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Nature Of & In Reality; Birth Death & In Between III; Arlene Corwin

Thinking In The Sun

           Thinking In The Sun

Preoccupied with origins and ends,

Our real-life friends –

One knows that what is left is means: the present tense –

Past gone, what lies ahead not yet in sight’s attendance.

 

The rest belongs to speculation.

Reasoning has limits.

Also left: the intellect and character,

Not neglecting chance or grace;

Who gets what, does what, makes choices that

Put two and two together to get four – or not.

 

Sitting here out in the sun

What better theme to think upon,

The senses dong what they do,

Interpreted by you-know-who:

Me, you.

 

The eye sees change [wind blowing grass].

The ear hears wind [that’s blowing grass].

The arm feels sun [that’s growing grass].

The brain sees all as change.

 

Where is the toot, toot of an absolute?

One would recruit an absolute

To make things stable

If one could/were only able.

 

So one sits awaiting, cogitating,

Meditating, celebrating one’s existence,

Hoping, praying it’s not nonsense

In the end,

As its end,

At the end.

Thinking In The Sun 4.22.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Birth, Death & In Between III;Arlene Corwin

Embedded In The Problem

Good morning!

       Embedded In The Problem

 Rooted in the problem sits an answer

Well inserted by the laws of physics:

Every energy, each action, force

Contains an opposite and equal heart.

Not obvious, because of course

You’re coming face to face with one small seam,

Large though it seems,

With un’s that scream their presence:

“We’re Unanswerable, We are Unsolvable!”

Therefore, the answer, at least at the start,

Is to see the problem as a part

Of opportunity.

That would be smart!

Embedded In The Problem 4.22.2018 Circling Round Reality; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Corwin

 

Sing Your Song All Wrong As Long As It Feels Right

Wrote this this morning after I’d seen a Swedish singing star interviewed with torn, torn jeans talking about how he came to be no longer nervous when performing.

Sing Your Song All Wrong As Long As It Feels Right

 (a prose poem  – meter but no rhyme – well, a little)

 

I used to be invisibly controlled by rules,

Sometimes blamed on pressures peer:

Perhaps I am still, will be ever.

Rules inhibit, yea, dear reader,

Leading art and your behavior.

Double whammy*, inspiration, guide and model

When you would most like to feel

Creative, and spontaneous,

Well pleased, extemporaneous.

 

Subtle, so immensely, so intensely so;

Astonishing how much one swallows,

Soaking up, believing garbage as god’s truths

So hard to scrap;

All those rules coming from the praxis of the earthliest of mouths.

 

What is it sought beyond all else?

It’s freedom, spontaneity,

Belief that what you’re doing

Is its own confession, own possession;

Valid as the others

Always followed and believed the best.

 

Now I’m older.

Times have altered.

Folk appear on television with torn jeans.

Fashions once thought awful – trends.

In the end,

The young will always be impacted by

‘The others’ they think templates,

Patterns, blueprints, guides.

I have seen the light.

Sing your song all wrong as long as it feels right.

 

Sing Your Song All Wrong 4.21.2018 Vaguely About Music II; Our Times, Our Culture II; I Is Always You Is We; Definitely Didactic; Arlene Corwin

whammy |ˈ(h)wamē|

noun ( pl. -mies) informal

an event with a powerful and unpleasant effect; a blow : the third whammy was the degradation of the financial system. See also double whammy .

an evil or unlucky influence : I’ve come to put the whammy on them.

ORIGIN 1940s: from the noun wham + -y 1 ; associated from the 1950s with the comic strip Li’l Abner, in which the hillbilly Evil-Eye Fleagle could “shoot a whammy” (put a curse on somebody) by pointing a finger with one eye open, and a [double whammy] with both eyes open.

Don’t Eat Anything That Can Run Away From You*

Do not eat a creature that can run away from you.

Is that too much a task to ask?

Chances are that if it can – if it can run,

And running’s not from simple fun,

It’s scared, has pain, a brain like yours.  It’s suffering.

So if it relays to legs four

To spring from harm and/or from killing,

My admonishment is this: be willing

To NOT eat this thinking, feeling, fleeing treat.

It is not mete to turn this flesh into a meal,

Make an object from a subject that can feel;

Act unmasks the cruel toxicity of villainry,

Defeats the heart of mercy,

Ergo,

Do not eat the thing that seeks to run away from you.

*I first heard George Osawa, the creator of macrobiotics say it in Chico, California 1963.

Don’t Eat Anything That Can Run Away From You 4.19.2018 Nature In & Of Reality; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Corwin

Poetry Is My Means

I’m always trying to figure out why I go back time and again to writing poetry.  It’s such a strange phenomenon.  Sometimes, like now, I’m allowed a glint.

      Poetry Is My Means

Poetry is my means:

To thinking out a thought;

To finding more about myself;

To analyzing good and bad:

To making tail or head

Of circumstance.

 

Poetry helps me define,

Refine,

Become a finer person,                

Binding my persona.

 

So many things I did not know

Of which I had not one iota

Of ability to see:

The sexy, silly, plus the willy-nilly

Miracle of mind,

Its mysteries revealing hints

And hinting at the revelations

Which belong to geniuses

And saints:

Everything I ain’t.

In learning and forgiving             

Poetry is everything a giving gift

Can give.

Poetry Is My Means 4.15.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative III; Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin

 

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